The Rouge Mule
Fred and I bought a maroon Equinox on the first day of fall, last year. It was supposed to be my car, but Fred picked the style, the size, and the color. It is pretty and I’m thankful we bought on it on a date that helps me remember its model name.
It is not the car I would have chosen, but it does have four wheel drive and better ground clearance than the KIA. I wanted something smaller for better gas mileage, and with more ground clearance – to get me higher into the mountains. I also wanted a backseat that folded flat so Beau could ride closer to me, without being in the front.
When I am fond of my vehicles, I name them. If I hate them, I also name them. The Lil Red Taco was my all-time-favorite, POS911 speaks for itself.
My Equinox remained nameless until last Sunday.
When I go hiking, driving to the trailhead cuts off unnecessary elevation hiking and rough terrain. Last Sunday, we tried a new trailhead. I would have parked where the road was still good and hiked, but I wanted to get as close as possible for Fred.
OMG! I have never driven such a mess! The ruts were deep enough to hang us up. Sharp rocks would have flattened lesser tires (and we were in no-phone-zone). If I had stopped, I would have had to back down to a place where I could get a run for the next incredible incline. The tires spun several times, in spite of the fact that I didn’t stop, shooting rocks out like missiles, behind us. I went over several projectiles that I cringed and lifted my butt for, but there were no big scrapes or loud bangs.
That critter went right where I aimed it, without a falter or a hiccup. Once we made it to the trailhead, we had an excellent hike.
Coming down the mountain, it was just as surefooted as when we went up. We were happy campers.
My car has earned her name: The Rouge Mule.
Who among you names your vehicles? What are some of the names you have called your pets (& enemies)?