Yesterday was the day Mike and I chose to park Stella into long term winter storage, where she will wait out the long, cold and dark months of winter protected from snow, ice and salty roads. Spring will never seem so sweet as it will next year when she rolls out of that garage again for the first time!
And now that I've made it through the first 'driving season' with my Corvette, I find myself reflecting on the memories it gave me in just the short handful of months I've been lucky enough to call it mine. I distinctly remember seeing it for the first time, stopping to get a closer look, and falling hook, line and sinker. It wasn't the first time I'd seen an old '70s Corvette, but it was the first time one made me feel this way. It wasn't just any antique car--it was mine.
I remember spending a week struggling with the decision to buy it or let it pass me by. I felt crazy--I couldn't even believe I was considering it. It meant not buying a house, not having that new wardrobe I'd been talking about. It meant financial sacrifices and a long term commitment to a project I literally knew nothing about.
Sometimes it takes a fleeting moment of blind courage. And just sometimes... something amazing comes out of it all.
My first ride. My first time ever inside a real Corvette, and it blew away my wildest dreams. I couldn't believe the sounds--the grumbling of the engine, the whoosh of that enormous fan. The smells of worn leather, exhaust, and heat from the engine. Or even the feel of that amazing machine, churning, vibrating and roaring beneath my legs and feet.
My arm spent a lot of time surfing the wind outside that window. As I struggled through the most difficult year of my life, I found myself comforted and soothed by time spent behind Stella's wheel. Bad days were blown away with the wind, and problems left far behind in her dust and burnt rubber. She saved me.
A few short months after that very first ride, Mike and I saved her right back. Her engine gave out on the side of the road in a puff of white smoke, and I'll never forget the smell of the coolant burning into steam off that hot engine. With my heart in my throat I asked Mike if we could breathe life back into this spent hot rod. I threw logic, reason and better judgement to the wind and made her run again.
And if I could go back, I wouldn't change a thing.
Why? Because that car is beautiful. It speaks to me and takes me away--it's my great escape and my one great indulgence. Because I truly love it.
She spent her first season with me getting shown off, admired, and driven around daily just for the absolute hell of it. With no destination in mind we cruised. We smiled and laughed, day-dreamed of the future and bragged about all our lofty plans. She posed for many pictures and with Mike behind the wheel and me riding shotgun, she memorized the streets of this town.
I'm a proud momma to this baby on four wheels, and with a first season as packed full of memories as this one, I can't wait to make more next year!
