The Beginning of the End

2,500 lbs. 75 mph. I can drive the Mini down the freeway with one hand. I can adjust my course with the slightest pressure of my thumb. I can navigate a bend in the road by arching my wrist.

Over 6 years and 4 months, the Mini and I have traveled 94,000 miles. Back then we traveled to Mankato and Fargo, now we travel to San Diego and San Francisco. We've been through snowstorms, rain storms, hail, and close enough to fire for it to count. We've been cut off, we've dodged flying sheet rock and flying furniture, and we've been rear ended twice. We've (allegedly) rear ended someone else. And we've rolled down not one, but two hills, slamming our rear end into misplaced objects at the bottom.

For 3 years, we ran the gauntlet of stop signs, snowplows, and city buses that littered Franklin, Nicollet, and Hennepin Avenues. We circled the block, we parallel parked, we dug our way out of snow with the help of MCAD students. We moved in and out of 2 apartments and then moved halfway across the country and, again, halfway across town. Now we bravely climb up mountains, merge across 8 lane highways, and dodge rogue motorcycles.

We've been taking it easy now. That speeding ticket received on the way to meet a baby Kaytlyn was for a noble cause, but it hurt the checkbook. It seems we've moved past some of the problems of the past -- unpaid tabs and parking tickets -- and moved into new ones. Now we face new brakes, new tires, new spark plugs, a new battery, fan, bumper, and clutch. This hurts the checkbook much, much more.

No longer will I be able to steer the Mini with my thumb. Because the power steering will soon fail, I will begin to feel the weight of its 2,500 lbs. We've been through so much together but there is no way I will pay $1100 to fix the Mini. I decided several years ago to run it into the ground. So it begins.