River of Love

Louis Ziob

English 101

27 January 2016

River of Love

"Shit, shit, shit" I muttered to myself. Already there was honking from behind me. Mercifully my new, almost 25 year old car grumbled back to life (1991 Mazda Miata, red, with a drop top, a beautiful little car.) I'd stalled at a red light on a hill, it was now shining green and I was struggling to get the car going again. I started sweating profusely, whether it was the heat from the sun beating down on my exposed neck or the stress of the situation I do not know. This was the second day of ownership with my new car, and coincendily also my first day of driving a manual. I still figured out how to smoothly make it into first gear, as we lurched forwards, the sudden blast of air from the open car cooled my sweat and I felt at ease once more. Beside me sat Amelia, my girlfriend, who at that moment was fighting her long raven hair into a baseball cap. We had all the essentials packed; a bag of our favorite snacks (sour spaghetti, salt and vinegar chips, ect) sunscreen, towels, two rubber tires, and an air pump. We were going tubing on the Wenatchee River just outside Leavenworth, WA.

It was by all definitions a perfect day, the sun sat high in the sky, warming us as the fresh air of the Mount Baker National Forest blasted around us, giving off the faint scent of pine needles. Thick, full clouds relieved us from the sun now and then as they drifted across the sky. I took full advantage of the perfect conditions and the winding nature of route 2 to become more familiar with my new car. The manual steering meant I felt intimately connected to the road beneath me, I slowly learned where the sweet spot was for the clutch and I tried to match my revs in order to make my shift changes smoother. This was a whole new kind of driving for me. It felt like I was in full control of the car, giving me greater confidence in the corners and making the experience of driving a true joy. We continued to cruise through lush evergreen forests and small lakes, enjoying ourselves so much that we failed to notice the clouds becoming more and more prominent in the sky, blocking out the sun for continuously longer periods of time.

Now I was born in Germany and have visited my family there on multiple occasions. As we rolled into Leavenworth I couldn’t help but giggle. From the alpine style McDonald's to the Germanic lettering on the street signs, the idea of a small town acting as a sort of theme park for Bavaria was highly amusing. We made it through the fake cobblestone streets lined by shops with fairly tale facades and arrived at the park boarding the Wenatchee River. We rapidly unpacked our things and began pumping up our tires, and just as I finished the last one I was