November 28, 2021

The long and winding road (driven very fast)

The spousal unit is on the hunt for a mid-size van that we can equip with either a side door power lift or a ramp for his power chair. A van, any van, is NOT my idea of how to even go get the mail out of the box at the end of my lane. I do not like vans. 

I do not like vans. Not for any reason. Yes, it could possibly be to his benefit but trust me when I say it won't be anything other than a waste of money. It'll be a new auto loan for him and frankly, he's at the point where he almost never drives. We go everywhere in the Charger and he does NOT get to drive my car. So he's looking at buying a vehicle that will sit in the driveway, in the way of all other vehicles, tractors, and mowers, and rarely be used. It's not something I'll be driving, that's for sure. Does this make financial sense? No. But it's NOT my money. If he thinks I'm going to help finance this misadventure, he's very much mistaken. There's a very good reason my money and his money never meet. But I digress...

I do not like vans. Period. 

I like Challengers, Chargers, Camaros, vintage and classic Mustangs, MOPAR, and Chevy trucks. It's a short list and there is not a van on it. 

This past Friday, instead of doing anything productive, Himself trolled the Internet (or should I start calling it the interwebs because change for the sake of change is hip). He saw a Dodge van at a dealership just north of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. That is over an hour's drive away. It did not please me to go but we hopped in the Charger on Saturday morning and headed out. Yes, I made him fill my gas tank first. 

We got as far as Thurmont, Maryland, before his phone rang. They'd sold the van the night before. I'm very grateful they called before we headed up Route 15 and the longest stretch of the trip. I would have been pissed to get all the way up there and then find out the van had been sold. My inner bitch was already on alert, poised for a good opportunity to launch. Thankfully, it became unnecessary. 

The drive to Thurmont is scenic, even with the leaves off the trees. Route 77, which meanders through Cunningham Falls State Park and Catoctin State Park, is a dream to drive when you have a car that corners on a rail, which my Charger does. 

Being in time for it, we cruised into McDonald's and got breakfast before heading back home. It was a truly lovely morning full of sunshine and blue sky. I was burning his gasoline, and so I took a little drive through Catoctin State Park and ended up driving past Camp David. 

I am now recorded on some military satellite, whizzing down the winding road like it's my personal NASCAR road course. I'm sure a bunch of "hidden" cameras were clicking away, too. Should I be worried? Undoubtedly. Big Brother knows all. 

Then again, those guys stuck with military vehicles are likely jealous they can't take three-hundred horses deep into a corner and power out the other side without body roll or braking. 

And as for Himself? Do THAT in a fucking van.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

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