Alternative Transportation

For those of you who've been reading for a while you know all about Mike's brain cyst and the brain surgeries he went through in Mexico City. Since that time Mike has not driven and we have been a one-car (well, actually a truck) family. And somehow we have managed. But it gets tricky sometimes.

For example, when we lived in Guaymas I taught English at the Preschool and there was a big parking area for the teachers. So I drove to work. And I drove fast. In fact, it was a daily ritual…how fast could I make it to work? (Remember that speed limits are a suggestion in Mexico, not a rule…) I had it down to eight wild minutes, door-to-door. And fun at that! Shopping, appointments and going to the beach could all be arranged in the afternoon after school or on the weekends. The guy who changed the oil in our truck was about 3 blocks up the street we lived on so we walked home while waiting for the oil to get changed. In Guaymas it was never a problem with just one vehicle and just one of us driving.

Then we moved to Salem, Oregon. I worked in the Capitol Mall, and there was rarely parking available. So I usually rode my bike to work. In bad weather - I took the bus. When I knew I had a parking space – I drove. But mostly I rode my bike to work. While a lot of errands could be done on the weekend, we were lucky to have Betty as our upstairs neighbor and landlord – she took Mike to many appointments. Plus, the two of them would go swimming and sometimes shopping together. Salem was small enough to get around and we had a truck guy who came right to the house for a "house call." Again, it was never a problem with just one vehicle and just one of us driving.

And now we live in Kenmore, just north of Seattle, at the north end of Lake Washington. There is no speedy eight-minute racetrack to work. There is no guy on our block that can change our oil. There is no easy bus commute to my job. There is no neighbor for Mike to hitch a ride with (well, actually there is one guy that has taken him a couple of places…) There is no truck guy who will do "house calls" (well, there might be – but I don't know him). All of a sudden we have problems with just one vehicle and just one of us driving.

Saturday morning we had an appointment at Midas to get three belts replaced. It was going to be a long appointment because one of the belts was the timing belt (one of the most expen$ive belts to replace, of course!) and the Midas guy wanted us to drop the truck off at 8:00 AM and pick it up "sometime in the afternoon." So what to do? What to do? Well, we knew exactly what to do!

Friday evening Mike got my bike out of our garden shed, checked the tires for air, and schlepped it into the truck bed. Saturday morning I drove to Midas, gave them the keys and hopped on my bike. The Burke Gilman Trail was a block away and after a leisurely ride west on the Trail, I was home within 15 minutes. Around 2:00 we got a call advising that the truck was ready. By now it was drizzling, but no matter. I got back on my bike, rode the quick ride to Midas, paid, put my bike in the truck and was home by 3:00. Not bad, huh?

Where there is a will, there is a way!