It’s been three wonderful years, but the leased life of the Land Rover is at an end.
Saying goodbye is never easy, especially with such a solid companion for over 50,000 miles. But frankly, I can’t justify the ultra-fine interior with the feeling of unease I have at highway speeds. I can’t justify the clean boxy lines with the dent in my pocketbook every time I fill up the tank. And lastly, removing this payment from the budget will allow me to work less. And like the hokey pokey, that is what it is all about.
I emptied the contents of the gas-hog and peeled off the Bear Pride and Switzerland flags this overcast afternoon.
I should get a boombox and play taps when I part ways for good with Ol’ Salty (The Vehicle Identification Number started with SALTY, even though none of those characters are numbers). Just a detail and inspection left. Perhaps I can do a little roadtrip this weekend and see him off proper.
I’m a touch verklempt.
This isn’t really about becoming post-bear, it’s about letting a vehicle go back to its home.