I must have blinked
When I was young, back in my salad days, we had a gold Dodge Dart 4-door. A “P.O.S.” as the kids might call it these days, but it was the family rig, a slant-six slab of Detroit heavy metal that I thought was pretty cool – of course, I was only 10. We got it in Newfoundland and drove it up there for a year or so, then my folks piloted it back to Santa Barbara, pulling a trailer with the balance of our worldly possessions loaded inside. I remember sitting in the driver’s seat in our garage in Goleta, an awkward tweener, pretending to be a race car driver. I remember learning to change the oil on a Saturday morning as my dad walked me through the process and I can still recall weekend drives to LA or up to see my Aunt Ruth at Thanksgiving.
It was a part of my formative years, that Dart. One of the things I remember as clear as day is when it turned over 100,000 miles. There were only five digits on the odometer back then, so when it turned from 99,999 miles, the whole thing reset to zero. I watched it as the fateful mile came closer but then something funny happened. I can’t recall exactly what I was looking at or the circumstances involved, but it seemed like I turned my eyes away for a minute or two and missed the big event entirely. I have a vivid memory of looking at the mile marker and seeing 2.6. The moment had passed and it was not coming back.
I bring this whole painful childhood memory up because I just noticed that, according to the counter at Blogger, this post is number 1002 of The Last Wilderness. That’s over a thousand entries since I began here over 4 years ago, back when this blog was devoted solely to the Olympic Peninsula and the variety of outdoor experiences to be had out that way. The scope has changed – although it’s still remarkably Olympic Peninsula heavy on content – but I am still pretty happy with the way it’s going.
Missed a milestone there, though. But I guess 1000 is just another number… and this odometer keeps turning.
About Ken Campbell
New Release
A story of sea kayaking and science on the rugged coast of Alaska. Coming – Spring 2014.
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