From Roxy to Woody

It’s hard to say goodbye to an old friend, especially when that friend has carried you through many highs and lows, from dipping arid wastelands to lofty peaks. When that buddy has been a part of the happiest adventures of your life, separating from them is painful.

Jason and I purchased my trusty Mazda Protégé, Roxy, used shortly after we got married. Before we bought her we were sharing a car, which was highly inconvenient since my workday started at 5:00 AM and his began a few hours later in the opposite direction. We had to come up with an elaborate drop off scheme to get to our jobs. Needless to say, we were extremely grateful for a second car. We purchased Roxy for very little but, to a couple of poor newlyweds, she was the height of sophistication. With power windows, electric door locks, cruise control, and comfy seats she felt like a Rolls-Royce to us. Over the years Roxy proved herself far more valuable than her cheap price tag would suggest. Besides a couple of small AC and CV joint repairs, she never really asked us for anything so I was in no hurry to swap her. Although most of our friends kept changing vehicles and nagging us about trading up, I was prepared to hold onto that car until her bumper fell off but I guess all good things must eventually end.

It's hard to believe that these dings represent $1600.
It’s hard to believe that these dings represent $1600.

Roxy was aging very well but Jason and I decided a couple of years ago that we should start saving for a new vehicle since there was no telling when she’d begin to break down. We intended on replacing her roughly sometime this winter. This plan sounded reasonable in theory but Jason may not have ever been able to convince me to go through with it if it hadn’t been for an especially snowy winter day. That particular December morning I-15 hadn’t been plowed even though about 4 inches of snow had accumulated on it. Jason was driving Roxy to work and, like most of the other commuters, he was moving at only 15 MPH due to the slick conditions but, leisurely pace notwithstanding, about halfway through his travels he suddenly started sliding into an adjacent lane. Despite his best efforts, there was just no going back. He ended up hitting a large truck that was inconveniently in the exact spot Roxy was destined to occupy. Roxy only had cosmetic damage from this incident but it was enough dints and dings to total her. Rather than paying to fix her up, we decided we’d keep her until she hit 200,000 miles, a target she was quickly approaching, and then sell her to Jason’s brother. That meant it was time to shop.

We reached 200,000 miles on Roxy with barely any repair bumps along the way.
We reached 200,000 miles on Roxy with barely any repair bumps along the way.

Jason and I are not the type of people that purchase cars on a whim. We look up as much information as possible on the vehicle class we are considering and then we test drive like crazy, examine additional figures, and ponder some more. This style of shopping is time-consuming but it has served us well. Since we’ve been extremely happy with the cars we’ve purchased using this method, we weren’t about to alter our system. Hence, it took us months to decide what we wanted to buy this time.

Our new vehicle needed to be a small or crossover SUV with 4WD or AWD. We were done skating on freeways and we wanted something hardier for our biking/snowboarding adventures. We were also looking for a car with good gas mileage that was little enough to fit easily into our cramped garage. Room to load up our bikes and boards was also a requirement. We are usually used car people, new cars really are a waste of money, but in this particular case, with our specialized needs, we found that the contenders in the used arena were pretty limited and not much cheaper. We realized that in order to get what we wanted we’d have to buy new.

As we began searching lots of spanking new vehicles, we discovered that it’s harder to shop for a new car than a used one. With new cars the selection is plentiful and the options are many: makes, models, colors, innards…we were a bit overloaded. After weeks of researching and test driving, we finally focused our attention on the Subaru Outback and Forester. We debated back and forth between these two for days but in the end I just couldn’t say no to the Forester’s large windows and spacious interior. (And Jason just can’t say no to me.) So the 2014 2.5i Limited Forester it was. The 2014 model, which has improved gas mileage, better torque, a streamlined exterior, and a swankier interior compared to the 2013, had only been shipped in restricted quantities to dealers two days earlier. Ours wasn’t even technically on the dealer’s lot when we bought it. We had the distinction of owning the only 2014 Forester on the road in Utah when we drove that baby home, a distinction I’m sure we’ve already long lost at this point. It’s barely 2013 so it doesn’t make sense that the 2014 is available at all; just try not to think about it too much. I’ve named our Forester Woodford, or Woody for short. (It’s a Forester and its name is Woody. Get it?) I love how open this SUV feels with its giant windows and huge sunroof. Woody already has quite the fan in me.

Woody is a cute and friendly car. He's just what I was looking for.
Woody is a cute and friendly car. He’s just what I was looking for.

But alas, with Woody purchased it was time to part ways with Roxy. Jason’s little brother was very excited about having a car of his own; however, I wasn’t very excited about letting her go. I’m only a little ashamed to say that before we dropped Roxy off at his house I cried. I know, with my many layers of sarcasm and constant teasing, I don’t seem like the sentimental type but deep in this complicated heart is plenty of emotional turbulence that usually emerges at embarrassing times.

Roxy has not only been a very reliable car but she’s been part of a lot of wonderful memories. My whole married life, which has been extraordinarily happy, has passed in the presence of that vehicle. Her aging is a reminder of just how much time has elapsed for me as well. Where have the years gone? It was hard to say goodbye. I’m sure Matt will take good care of her and she’ll be as dependable a friend to him as she was to me but I’ll miss her still. Here’s to Roxy! My classy girl that has far outlasted many “superior” vehicles!

Roxy is my kind of girl: steady, comfy, small but gutsy.
Roxy is my kind of girl: steady, comfy, small but gutsy.

A post script: I miss the straightforwardness of older vehicles. What happened to the days when a power door lock was as fancy as it got? When you would turn the heat on if you got cold and the AC if you got hot. Now cars practically do everything automatically, even if you’d rather they didn’t, and there are so many knobs on their control panels that you need to pass a NASA course just to figure out how to adjust your radio stations. It’s funny how complicated we’ve made “simplicity.”

And what’s up with recent car models’ tiny windows? So many of the vehicles we test drove had such small windows that you could barely see the road from their stuffy interiors. They made me feel like I was driving around in a coffin. Claustrophobics of the world unite! Sure, from the outside their designs looked sleek but I think I’d prefer being able to see traffic to having aerodynamic windows. Carmakers, let’s not sacrifice functionality and practicality just so our vehicles can look like spaceships. Remember: the only flying cars can do currently is into pavement so it would be nice to be able to see that pavement before takeoff.

Braving Brian Head

A few months ago I won a weekend stay at a condominium on Brian Head Resort, a place Jason and I had never snowboarded before, at a charity auction. We were excited to try out some new slopes, especially since these new slopes could be accessed just by walking out the front door of this condo. We decided to use our Brian Head getaway a couple weeks ago and that turned out to be very advantageous timing. A storm dropped 13 inches of fresh powder on the resort in the 48 hours before we arrived and another one threw down 8 inches while we were carving it up. Those delicious flurries made our weekend amazing but complicated. Here is the thrilling tale of our adventures at the Head.

That's the way I like it.
That’s the way I like it.

Brian Head is a little over 3 hours away, which is why we’ve always opted to hit one of the closer resorts rather than head south to its peaks. But, now that we’ve been to this secluded mountain, I think we will be returning again. Brian Head’s base elevation is actually the highest of any Utah resort at 9,600 feet and its extensive terrain satisfies boarders, skiers, snowshoers, and snowmobilers. Plus, it’s got a cool tubing hill. My favorite thing about this resort though was its lack of patrons. We didn’t have to constantly check over our shoulders for other riders as we cruised downhill. Yes, I believe we’ll be going back.

It may have been cloudy but the view from the top was still striking.
It may have been cloudy but the view from the top was still striking.

Thanks to those previously mentioned storms, and the lack of people present, the snow at Brian Head was fabulous! The powder was deep and heaped. It was glorious! Our one concern about the mountain’s conditions was the potential presence of blow-me-over air currents. The weather forecast indicated that the resort would be very windy, with gusts up to 26 MPH, all day Saturday. Not only would that much blowing make boarding cold and miserable but it could also cause the lifts to close, which would halt our fun altogether. Good thing Mr. Weatherman was incorrecto. While it was a touch breezy, the day was much more pleasant than expected. We didn’t see a lot of the sun but the constant flurries formed another thick blanket of snow by the afternoon. We were overjoyed about that extra layer of powder but, judging from the number of riders we saw stuck in the fluff after lunch, I think it may have been a vexation to the lesser skilled. When 4:30 hit and the resort closed for the day, Jason and I couldn’t believe it was already time to call it quits. Time flies when you’re flying down a mountain.

Even my limited skillset seemed to impress the crowds at Brian Head. I got cheers, waves, and gawks from those on the chairlift. It was odd but flattering.
Even my limited skill set seemed to impress the crowds at Brian Head. I got cheers, waves, and gawks from those on the chairlift. It was odd but flattering.
I think Jason was probably the best boarder on our side of the mountain. I didn't see anyone else trying his type of stunts.
I think Jason was probably the best boarder on our side of the mountain. I didn’t see anyone else trying his type of stunts.

That snow wasn’t all fun and more fun though. It piled up on the roads quickly and made it impossible for us to drive into town to get dinner that night. Luckily, the tasty local pizza joint was happy to deliver. Later that evening those expected winds finally gusted in. Both of us were woken up several times during the night by the bedroom’s shrieking windows as the storm whipped about them.

Gliding through soft powder is like pushing through cottony clouds. It never gets old.
Gliding through soft powder is like pushing through cottony clouds. It never gets old.
We stayed on Brave for a good portion of the day because we are brave?
We stayed on Brave for a good portion of the day because we are brave?

And our drive home the next day was intense to say the least. Those of you who have wound around the steep climbs of State Route 143 that lead to Brian Head can understand why any amount of snow would be extremely hazardous on that twisted narrow road. Upon leaving the resort, we had to wait about half an hour at the top of the pass with a number of other cars while plows attempted to remove the remnants of the night’s blizzard from the highway. Once we were allowed to proceed, our convoy of vehicles crept down the canyon going only 7 MPH. Even at that sluggish speed we were all still sliding precariously, the 4WDs included. Our antilock brakes got some serious use and it took us about two hours longer to get home than it should have all thanks to just 11 miles of slick drops. That fluffy powder beast may look friendly but its wagging tail will knock you off your feet.

I was freezing when we returned to our condo after boarding so I stayed right next to its fake fireplace for hours.
I was freezing when we returned to our condo after boarding so I stayed right next to its fake fireplace for hours.

Even with its scary moments, our weekend was terrific. Being able to just grab our boards and walk onto the runs was fantastically convenient and the quantity of powder on those runs was excellent, especially since we had so much of it to ourselves. Brian Head was a finer resort than we expected. We won’t wait until we win another bid to go down there again.

Valentine’s Day the Rachel Way

Every year I complain about complaining. Yup, you know the drill. I can’t handle the incessant Valentine’s Day whining that is so ubiquitous during February. For crying out loud people! Is doing something special for your special someone really that much of a burden? If they aren’t worth a little effort then one would have to wonder about the accuracy of their “special” title.

Valentine’s Day, that abhorred and adored holiday, just hit again and once more I heard lots of griping over it. For instance, one of my coworkers was grumbling about how Valentine’s Day is the stupidest of holidays because he has to buy his wife flowers. Since, out of all the February moaners, those that object to doing something nice for their spouse annoy me the most, I will focus the venom of this preachy post on that sorry group.

Jason got me such a huge bouquet of flowers I had to rearrange my desk to find a space for it.
Jason got me such a huge bouquet of flowers I had to rearrange my desk to find a space for it.

In contrast to the pathetically unromantic mentioned above, I love Valentine’s Day. It means I GET to do something thoughtful for the man that I adore. It provides an excuse for me to remind Jason, AKA the best husband in the world, that he is my favorite person. I would never waste this occasion with whining and neither would my fine hubby.

This year it was Jason’s turn to plan our Valentine’s Day activities and he wisely chose to get us tickets to Cinderella the ballet. (Yes, you men can go to the ballet with little risk that images of leotards will be permanently burned into your retinas.) We had a great time laughing at the clumsy stepsisters and admiring the grace of the other dancers. A couple of days later, Jason surprised me with another round of Valentine’s fun: a Mexican flavors cooking class up at Sur La Table. I’ve got one smart man. I love to cook and Jason’s culinary skills could use some improving so this tutorial was an excellent idea. Jason’s motives for signing us up for this course may not have been entirely selfless though. I’m sure he realized that this class would increase his chances of getting yummy Mexican food in the future. Whatever his reasons, we thoroughly enjoyed preparing and chowing our flavorful dinner of pork-and-cheese arepas, pork and beef-stuffed poblanos, chipotle-rubbed salmon tacos, and Mexican chocolate pots de crème. Tasty! Obtaining culinary masterfulness obviously requires a lot of eating; I’m willing to make the sacrifice.

Jason and I had to put some effort into eating all of this fruit arrangement before it spoiled but our hard work paid off. Not a single strawberry went bad
Jason and I had to put some serious effort into eating all of this fruit arrangement before it spoiled but our hard work paid off. Not a single strawberry went bad.

Even though it wasn’t my turn to head up our celebrations this year, I still plotted plenty. I sneakily planned a series of treats for Jason. First, I took some fancy donuts and hot chocolate to his office for him to share with his coworkers. Next, on another day, I took some balloons and handmade chocolates to his office for him not to share with his coworkers. And then, on Valentine’s Day, I showered him with a whole slew of presents that I had fastidiously wrapped.

Jason too wasn’t content with just going the extra mile on Valentine’s Day…he wanted to go the extra hundred. He brought a gorgeous bouquet of flowers to me while I was at work and then, a couple of hours later when I suspected nothing, he had another bouquet delivered. This second bouquet was made of delicious fruit and chocolate covered strawberries. I have to say that I got a twinge of warped delight from the shocked look on my coworker’s face, the one that had been complaining about having to give his wife flowers on Valentine’s Day, when he walked by my desk and saw everything Jason had sent me. That’s right dude, there are plenty of fabulous husbands out there that, unlike you, aren’t content with a mediocre marriage and I’m wedded to one of them.

The poblano peppers we stuffed in our cooking class were mighty tasty.
The poblano peppers we stuffed in our cooking class were mighty tasty.

I have the happiest marriage imaginable because both Jason and I see occasions like Valentine’s Day as opportunities not inconveniences. There’s more than just a correlation between our outlook on matters like this and our atypical bliss. I know that some of you, even after my poignant words of wisdom, are still thinking that Valentine’s Day just isn’t for you. For that group, here are a couple of the most common excuses I’ve heard for ignoring Valentine’s Day and the reasons I think that they’re invalid, especially for the permanently committed:

Excuse 1: Doing something nice for my significant other on Valentine’s Day is too expensive.

While I tend to bestow my hubby with a few too many gifts, such is my way, one can show someone how much they love them through many other means: cleaning out their car, making them a yummy dinner, serving them breakfast in bed, selflessly volunteering to take care of the kids while they have a guilt-free day out with their friends, giving them a relaxing foot massage, baking them cookies, writing them a thoughtful love note, cleaning the house, watching their favorite chick flick with them without complaint, surprising them at work with a lunch for two…like the Energizer Bunny I could just keep going and going. The point is that financial limitations are no excuse for not celebrating Valentine’s Day.

I always make sure Jason's Valentine's Day gifts are wrapped extravagantly.
I always make sure Jason’s Valentine’s Day gifts are wrapped extravagantly.

Excuse 2: I don’t like the expectations of this holiday and would rather surprise my significant other on some random day when it will actually be a surprise.

While I get this, I’ve found that those that don’t do anything special for their spouses on Valentine’s Day are usually the same people that are thoughtless the rest of the year and the least likely candidates for ever surprising their partners out of the blue. Putting effort into a relationship is a habit and a refusal to do something considerate for your significant other when given the chance, even if it’s expected, is typically indicative of a trend of marital laziness. I enjoy surprising my husband often and am known for bringing treats unpredictably to his work. (I’m quite popular with his coworkers.) But I still delight in concocting Jason-related Valentine’s Day schemes, even if he expects such shenanigans. After all, he should expect to be shown how much I adore him constantly. If he ever ceases to expect that then I have failed him as a wife.

Jason and I are supremely content with our life together and we have a blast celebrating Valentine’s Day. If you can’t say the same then perhaps you should consider putting forth a little more effort. Any physicist can tell you that you have to put energy into a system to get energy out of it. If you aren’t putting any energy into your relationship, why should you expect to get anything worthwhile out of it? Do I say this with smugness? Absolutely. I’m not exactly known for holding back my opinions on any subject but, considering the strength of my marriage, I think I’m in a pretty good position to give advice on this particular topic. So go forth and celebrate Valentine’s Day and think twice before you come crying to me about having to remember your valentine. Frankly, you’d fare better just buying those flowers without comment.