Every now and then you run into someone who enjoys the adventure as much as you; and that’s when the inspiration hits to put it down in words.
I still remember when we first met. I remember pulling up halfway down the street and getting lost. I had my gps locked up till the actual address, and at this weird crossroad, I called her up going, “So I think I’m pretty much where I need to be, and I think I’m close, but google is telling me to turn left which would take me through your neighbor’s house.” She got on the phone and turned on the lights and was waving at me and I recall this silhouette of this goofball gal waving like crazy and I drove forward and there she was. I had to give her some shit because she was waving frantically with the front living room light on waving like a total dork. Her words kind of crack me up, here’s an excerpt of what I mean--
“There I was, like a high school girl, nervously waiting on the couch in the front room of my house. Heart racing I messaged my friends that he was only minutes away and sent photos of my freshly curled hair.
And then I heard it…That low rumble of fun that was slowly making its way down my street and I knew it was him. I heard the rumble go down the wrong side road near my house and back toward the main street again before turning around.
He was looking for my weirdly numbered and placed house on this confusing curvy street. I stood up and looked out the big bay window just behind the couch.
My phone rang...
‘You are almost here’ I said, ‘do you see me waving?’
He laughed and called me a creeper. He moved forward allowing me to finally see in the twilight the source of the noise. And there it was, pretty in the setting sunlight…The Avocado”
The interesting thing was that we had already shared some adventures up to a place called “Mary’s Peak” which was this absolutely gorgeous place for hiking. We took her car this time. She certainly wasn’t afraid to have some fun in twisties. I remember thinking, “her steering wheel position and habits could use some work, but she’s certainly confident driving a manual and certainly confident having fun in the twisties.” I knew this was going to be fun later. I’m certainly not going to lie, a woman that knows how to have fun in a manual of any kind is a giant plus in my book.
She mentioned going on a mini road trip, a day trip, to this place she loved that had “Artisan Ice Cream.” We took the top off of the 931 and headed out some back roads she was familiar with. I’m not familiar with places that make their own ice cream, and I’m honestly not huge on ice cream, but she was interesting, fun, and we were just having a blast. A mini road trip, an adventure, the kind of thing you enjoy sharing with others. The entire road was filled with tight corners. 15mph corners, 90 degree bends, 35mph corners, off camber technical corners, the kind of thing you would expect on a backroad that would put a giant smile on your face. We were having a ton of fun in the 931.
"The gorgeous breeze, a bright sunny day, a wonderful person at my side looking out the window soaking in the day and both of us with a grin on our face having just had the best ice cream of the millennium—We. Were. In. Heaven."
We rolled up into the parking and as we parked, this little Subaru, some little 80s or early 90s model, came up behind us and yanked their parking brake getting completely sideways behind us into their parking spot. She went, “DID YOU SEE THAT?” and was super excited. Everyone in their car was laughing their ass off, she was laughing and I only caught a glimpse but enough to know that I was in the company of people who knew how to have fun. We got out of the car and headed in.
I’ve had ice cream before, but I have never in my life had hand-made ice cream made from scratch, made by the owner of an artisan diner with that kind of presentation—fresh strawberry and chocolate and ice cream to match. It was easily one of the best ice cream dishes I have ever been served. We soaked it in for as long as we could.
The gorgeous breeze, a bright sunny day, a wonderful person at my side looking out the window soaking in the day and both of us with a grin on our face having just had the best ice cream of the millennium…We. Were. In. Heaven.
It wasn’t necessarily the fact of being in a Porsche, nor the ice cream…it wasn’t even about the twisties. I had the chance to share it with someone who got it, who enjoyed it as much as I did, and that’s what was all about. The adventure. The trip, the connection.
People who click are so far and so few between. Whether you end up being with them a short time or for a lifetime, the fact is that for that moment, you are there—you’re both there.
It may sound sentimental or sappy, but I’m a giant connoisseur of the cosmos; one of my biggest hobbies is astronomy. A large part of me feels that we are all part of this huge cosmos, part of the same thing; the same atoms and energy. You are atoms and energy, experiencing atoms and energy. To find someone who can enjoy the same thing, who gets that, who is enjoying being part of that entire experience, someone who lives for that moment, regardless of the amount of time you have, is a kindred spirit. It's like part of the universe is enjoying itself with another chunk of it. We were completely sharing that moment.
I’ve met a lot of gals, dated my fair share of shit storms, and even had my fair share of weird and bad experiences. I honestly was quite fine with being single, but we clicked. Have you ever had that feeling where you’re sick and tired of dealing with shit storms, drama queens and decide that all you want to do is adventure by yourself? That’s where I was at. One day my sis calls me and goes, “You need to meet this girl. She likes cars, cigars, astronomy, science and speaks geek.” I was skeptical and as you can imagine, it took me months on end to even give the thought a chance. I was too busy flying and working on my Lambo. Fuck dating. Forget worrying about that kind of thing. But one day we decided to talk to each other and chat a bit and something just clicked. I headed to meet her one weekend after realizing that I’d be stupid to disregard a great connection and the rest has been history.
While I do not feel that cars are a “necessity” to a relationship, it’s refreshing at the very least to meet someone who understands that your passions in life are an important part of who you are, your identity; and a part of who you are also includes your accomplishments in life.
Later in the following weeks, we took the 931 off-roading to my favorite shooting spot. The goal: To eliminate as many shittily burned CDs that no longer functioned as possible. How, you may ask? Via a Mossberg Tactical 500 and a Keltec PF9. We ended up driving the 931 off road on some pretty gnarly and questionable areas, ending up at our destination. We spent an awful lot of rounds eliminating imaginary zombies, some pretty shittily burned CDs, and an awful lot of pre-made targets.
What did I learn? Well, she’s a pretty damn good shot and certainly knows her firearms. Certainly a welcoming quality when a woman knows how to drive a stick shift and handle her firearms. More so, we tore through a good box of ammo and targets. It gave me a good reason to modify my little carry pistol and look forward to more shooting sessions. I also learned that the 931 is quite perfectly capable off road, so long as you keep yourself in check and are realistic about your height and travel. All in all, I was pretty proud that we managed to navigate some pretty gnarly rocks, some terrible terrain and make it out there in a Porsche.
You know it’s funny; I see these little hashtag posts on Facebook and Twitter now and then of people in their little first generation Boxsters and 996 cars grocery shopping with “#PorscheEveryDay” and I kind of laugh. I enjoy tagging myself in those as a rite of passage when I can show my little 80s 931 off the road, navigating some not so desirable terrain to get where I need to go, on backroads and weird and odd situations, in a car that most people would call “Undesirable” Or “Unreliable” for such circumstances. But you know what? It isn’t about practicality these days, it’s about adventure.
As I grow older, I care less about practicality and care more about the things I enjoy. Practicality? Sure, some. Reliability? Of course, if you keep on top of it. Consistency? Sure, if you want a Honda; this is Porsche territory though. How often do you see a Turbo Porsche of any kind hitting the backroads for a rare form of ice cream, carving up the corners, having fun, and ending up off-road to go out for target practice with random fire arms. I feel like anyone could go out there with your average 4x4, your standard truck, your standard whatever. But at the end of the day the experience is about what you take from it—what you get from it.
You are part of this universe. Atoms made of energy, the only part of the universe that you are aware of that is capable of experiencing what it is like to be atoms and energy. If you ever find a moment to share your own experiences with another form of atoms and energy, in a Porsche or otherwise, savor it while you can. Life is short.
Life is a path. Death is a destination. Enjoy the journey to the destination. Forget about the destination. We all know where we are headed; enjoy the journey for as long as you can. You can’t take it to the grave, you can polish it as much as you want, you can make it as meticulous as can be. In the end, the important thing that matters is whether or not you enjoyed your journey to the destination.
Seconds, a minute, hours, months or years—enjoy every moment of your journey, my friends. Namaste, peace, celebration, cheers, what have you, however you want to say it.