A Day for Jane

7/31/2017

Well, I’ve driven over 4200 miles so far and Jane has been lovely (except for the first day, of course). But the alignment’s gotten a bit funky after the harsh northern roads (let’s be real, it would probably be okay if I drove slower, but I don’t), she’s a thousand miles overdue for an oil change, and that pesky left rear brake has started with a slow leak again. I wonder if it got clipped by that fuel vent as it departed the vehicle. Anyways, today seemed like a good time to resolve those issues, as I had to drive through an actually populated area (Tacoma) on my way to Mount Rainier.

I called upon the knowledge of my vintage mustang buddies and managed to rustle up a tire shop and an experienced Mustang shop in the area. Not that any of the items require a Mustang-specific shop, but it’s always nice to find someone who knows their way around a vintage car.

Jane and I made our way down from the Olympic peninsula, leaving the cool rainforests and mountains behind. We skirted the convoluted Washington coastline until a singular giant snow-capped mountain suddenly came into view: Mount Rainier! We had reached Tacoma.

 

Yeah, this mountain is actually kind of really huge. 

We ducked into Kimball’s Alignment for a quick check-up on the alignment. The guys there were super nice and worked me in right away, so I left Jane in their capable hands, figuring I’d step next door for some lunch while they were at it.

I watched the mechanic start Jane up – several times – and scoot her into the bay. I have to admit, I take a kind of perverse pleasure in watching other people try to drive Jane. It almost never happens, as Jane has been declared a one-woman car, but when someone does have to drive her it’s always silly. Usually, it starts with a hard start, followed by an immediate stall. And then another harder start, and either another stall or a lot of revving from the tech to try to compensate for the attempted stall. And probably she’ll stall out again then after all that, just to be spiteful. And terrible as it is, it makes me feel better seeing other people struggle with her, because it makes me feel like my own driving skills are maybe not so bad. I don’t think that Jane is really a very easy drive.

My own petty thoughts aside, the tech did get Jane into the bay and I left them to their work. A short 45 minutes later and they called me back from lunch, having fortunately found nothing catastrophic but for a toe adjustment out of whack. I think that can probably be attributed to me breaking in the new springs in the front suspension, which lowers the car and alters the alignment somewhat. So no harm done!

At that point it was getting on in the afternoon so I opted to head for my campsite rather than bother the second shop – the Mustang Ranch of Eatonville – for an oil change and brake check at 4:15 PM. I do try not to be too rude when inflicting Jane on other people. Instead, I finished up my leisurely day with a nice leisurely drive down to my campsite at Eastcreek Campground.

This campground is really a hidden gem. It’s not something I say lightly, having camped all around the US, but I think that this may be my new favorite! As you enter the campground, you step into a twilight world reminiscent of those old growth forests found on the Olympic Peninsula. It sits tucked far back from the road in a stand of tall, old conifers with large fern bushes and moss carpeting the forest floor between the trees. The campsites are huge and secluded, and the forest absorbs any sound that your neighbors might be making, replacing it instead with the faint soothing rustling of leaves. It is one of the most peaceful campgrounds I’ve ever been in.

I pitched my tent against a group of ferns, leaving Jane between two large trees nearby to guard my site. And then I just lay there on the ground for a while, enjoying the light filtering through the spiraling branches high above me and the feel of the moss against my back. No mosquitoes, no noise, perfect weather… sublime. I think I’ll stay here a while.

Kelly signing out.