I'm a Ford truck man...

I’m extremely busy today so this will be short.

This morning my 1997 Ford Ranger reached 100,000 miles. I’ve known this milestone was coming and was really looking forward to it, as strange as that may sound. In fact, I treated the truck to $600 worth of minor repairs last weekend. This truck has served me well for nearly eight years; not a single major breakdown, unless you consider a flat tire—at which time I discovered both the spare tire and jack were the wrong size for the truck—a problem.

Anyway, the 100,000 mile mark happened on the overpass marking the intersection of I-35W and I-494. I found it rather serendipitous that it occurred there. That junction holds special significance to me. I remember it vividly from 11 years ago when I first arrived in the Twin Cities. The I-35/494 junction marked the point where the Cities truly began, in my mind, and I white-knuckled my way down the freeway in true wet-behind-the-ears Nebraskan fashion. Now I drive the stretch like any other Minnesotan; at 90 MPH, two inches from the bumper of out-of-town idiots actually going the f-ing speed limit.

It was upon moving to the Minneapolis/St. Paul area that my life truly began. A lot of things have happened since then; some wonderful, some truly awful. If I had it to do over again, I would do so in a heartbeat, skipping the parts where I hurt other people. Life is still a tremendous struggle, but progress is being made and I attribute it largely to my decision to leave my hometown and begin life anew in the Big City.

Reaching the 100,000 mile mark was bittersweet. On one hand it provided a wonderful opportunity to reflect on the progress I’ve made. On the other hand, I was really hoping I could call my dad today and tell him the news; that one of his mechanically-inept sons had actually kept a vehicle alive to see the six-digit mark.

Oh well, I’m sure he knows. And now you do, too. You probably didn’t care, but too late. Ha ha.