I’d like to personally thank my Range Rover

This is probably the most heartfelt blog post I’ve ever written.

Last Friday, I was driving out of my neighborhood as I’ve done thousands of times before when a dark Subaru ran a red light and smashed into the driver’s side door of my Range Rover.  I’ve honestly never seen a vehicle so committed to making a bad decision.  It didn’t appear there was an effort to avoid me until it was far too late. Unfortunately, because I was driving, I was seated just on the other side of that door.  A few moments before impact, I could see the Subaru barreling down upon me.  I can’t adequately describe what it’s like watching an SUV coming straight for you at 60mph making no attempt to stop whatsoever and knowing you are going to get hit.

For those few seconds prior to impact, I remember thinking, “I’m about to die.”

I’ve never had this sort of thought before.  I probably thought I did, but I really didn’t.  For instance, I once ate the buffet at a popular local Indian restaurant and suffered the worst case of food poisoning imaginable.  Throwing up and in intense pain, I remember thinking, “This is it for me.”  Looking back, I was probably just being dramatic.  There is literally nothing that compares to seeing a car clearly determined to crash into you.  It isn’t even close.

The impact was explosive as you might imagine.  The airbag in the driver’s door deployed and something (part of the airbag I’m guessing) struck me in the side of the head.  I felt incredible chest pain.  Now I realize it was probably the seatbelt I was thankfully wearing.  At the time, I was pretty sure it was a heart attack.  I immediately unbuckled my seatbelt and crawled as fast as I could over the console between the seats and into the passenger seat.  I wanted to be as far away from the crushed driver’s door as I could get.  Immediately, I heard two voices.  One was the emergency system operator in my car asking me if I was okay.  I said, “No.”  Then I heard another voice, “This is 911.  Are you injured?”  It was coming from my Apple iPhone which had flung all the way across the car from the center console to the floorboard on the passenger side.  It took a few minutes for me to find it, but soon I found myself talking to two people at once begging for help as fast as they could get to me.

Let me take a moment to commend Apple.  

Lately, I’ve had lots of issues with my iPhone.  My children would probably tell you that a lot of it is user error since I’m the least technologically savvy person around.  I’ll take some of the blame for that.  Still, I don’t think it’s my fault that people call me and it goes straight to voicemail.  All the while, I’m holding the phone in my hand looking at it.  Makes no sense.  Nevertheless, for all its possible flaws, when it detected that something in my life had gone seriously wrong, it was there to offer help.  There aren’t many things in life where you can really say that.

Soon there were sheriffs, firetrucks, and an ambulance at the scene to help.  I remember my first inclination was the strangest one—find my purse.  It took a few minutes because things flew everywhere but I did locate it.  I also found my sunglasses.  I didn’t, however, come out with my brand-new package of Altoids or my umbrella.  They are all resting comfortably in a tow yard somewhere.  I hope they find closure as I’m attempting to do.  

I’ll go ahead and spoil the ending. 

I lived.

I regard all the above-mentioned first responders as heroes in this story but none greater than my dark blue matte finish Range Rover.

It saved my life.

If you know anything about Range Rovers, they are not inexpensive cars.  It was a huge decision to buy one.  We also have a Toyota Land Cruiser.  That’s certainly not a cheap car, but it’s not crazy expensive. The Range Rover is for special occasions.  The Land Cruiser is for everyday driving.

The Land Cruiser is also for when you’d like to actually arrive at your destination without a warning light emotionally terrorizing you.

For the brief time I owned the Range Rover, I’ve had a complicated love/hate relationship with it. 

 Mostly hate. 

That hatred began a few months ago while I was picking up my dog, Luka, from a trainer located in what can best be described as “the beginning of a Dateline episode.” Not long into the drive home, a warning light appeared indicating there was an electrical issue requiring immediate attention. Since I didn’t want this to be the location where authorities eventually discovered my skeletal remains beside a disabled luxury SUV, I called the dealership. I asked the Service Department if I could safely continue driving toward civilization. I didn’t argue with their answer (“pull over immediately”) because just as they said this another warning light appeared: “Gear Box Overheating.”

Thankfully, I found a convenience store where Luka and I sat for several hours waiting for a tow truck and reevaluating every financial decision that had brought me to this moment.

The repair turned out to be simple. The software had glitched. Nothing was overheating. There was no electrical problem. The car was essentially just having an emotional episode.

Giphy

Not long after that, another warning light informed me I needed new brake pads. In all my years of owning cars, I’d never had brake pads wear out at 12,000 miles. I assumed this was yet another software malfunction and ignored it for a while, which I realize is ironic considering the overall theme of this essay is: PLEASE PAY ATTENTION WHEN OPERATING A MOTOR VEHICLE.

Eventually I took the car in.

As it turns out, I really did need entirely new brake pads because evidently my particular Range Rover model burns through brake pads with the intensity of a teenage boy emptying a refrigerator. That single trip to the dealership cost roughly $2,000.

At that point, I felt trapped. The car was too expensive to keep and too expensive to get rid of. It was less a vehicle and more a dependent.

But all that hatred melted into true love last Friday when my beloved sweet Range Rover sacrificed itself and saved my life. 

Gif by GeneralMotors on Giphy

Ever since the accident, I’ve replayed everything in my mind countless times. There are many horrifying possibilities. One of them is what might have happened had I chosen to drive the Land Cruiser that morning instead. I’m not saying the Land Cruiser wouldn’t have protected me. I’m just saying if you’d seen the force of the impact and how the Range Rover absorbed that direct hit, you might currently find me standing outside a Land Rover dealership placing flowers beneath a framed photo.

I don’t have much to say about the person who hit me except for this.  Fortunately, he was able to walk away from the accident.  A Subaru is also a safe vehicle. He looked like a nice man probably in his seventies with a t-shirt reading “Bearded and Jolly.”  He apologized to me and confessed immediately to the sheriff that this was all his fault.  He even called and left me a message later asking if I was okay.  I would say we are two extremely lucky people, and I bear him no ill will.

I do, however, question what he was doing to not see me until he did.  I can only imagine he might have been doing what lots of drivers do these days:  texting, talking on the phone, changing a station, or eating his lunch to name a few.  Let’s face it, too many of us are far too distracted driving these days.  We rely way too much on our super computerized cars to do all the thinking for us and put other people in danger.

I probably won’t get another Range Rover.  I can’t afford it and insurance never gives you what the car is actually worth and values luxury vehicles the same way Facebook Marketplace does sectional sofas. I will, however, prioritizing finding the safest car I can afford.

In the meantime, I’ll genuinely miss my beloved blue Range Rover.

Goodbye, dear friend.  

And thank you.  I’m forever grateful.