Traveling Alone [with a Crowd]

I had help today with my article--Leo must have known my subject matter.

I just scheduled an appointment with my mechanic. In addition to the usual oil change, there is the leak to be dealt with. It poured yesterday and I took some drives, using many strategically placed paper towels to find the source – not a complete success but I did discover the water is not coming in where I thought it was – so that is some kind of progress. Aside from these things, the most important thing on the maintenance list this year is “just” a general request to my mechanic, “Can you look over the car for anything

that might be worn or cause me trouble during five months of heavy driving in Europe?”

I laughed at myself when I got off the call. This is a crazy thing to ask when your car is 55 years old. It’s a bit like going to my doctor and telling her to replace all my worn joints and used organs. Just in case. But I trust my mechanic and hope the regular maintenance on the Blue Car and my tendency to fix things as soon as they break will head off a heart stopper of a bill this year.

As I was adding the appointment to my calendar (strategically placed after German Car Day at Larz Anderson Auto Museum and well enough before Auto Cross in July so I can do both), I wondered if I am a bit crazy for not being more worried about the Blue Car breaking down in Europe.

To be clear, I didn’t say “I know the Blue Car won’t break down.” I am simply not worried about it. I think there is a good probability that I will have some sort of mechanical trouble along the way, no matter how much I and my mechanic prepare. And of course, if I do have car trouble, it will likely happen at the worst possible time: pouring rain or a sudden and unexpected snowstorm at night on a lonely road many kilometers from the nearest town with no cell service in a place where no one has ever heard English. There could be worse things (I know, I know…I hear you) but this is the scenario I am willing to entertain and I find it useful to imagine myself dealing with it as it unfolds. I have found that once I consider something and expect it, once I visualize it, it’s usually not as bad as it could be. And I will be prepared: I have emergency supplies in the car and a roadside emergency kit. And if all that isn’t working too well, I have been known to simply repeat to myself, “Relax Susan, this will be a good story when it’s all over. Breathe deeply and smile.”

I expected a breakdown would be part of my U.S. road trip experience and then the Blue Car tricked me: I enjoyed 14,000 miles over many months with no mishap. My theory about this is simple. After years of getting road time for only a few hundred miles each driving season, the Blue Car was doing everything it could to make me happy and push future annual mileage way up. I am happy to say it was a successful strategy After all, the car and I are going to Europe together. I now know how this game works and I am very willing to play: I regularly tell the Blue Car that if this Europe trip goes well, there are other epic journeys waiting for us in the future. Annual miles driven could hit 20,000 or 30,000. Bribery? Yes. And I am proud of it.

It also occurs to me that in the case of car trouble, I will likely find more Porsche mechanics in Europe than I did for much of my U.S. driving. There was a long stretch between Minneapolis and Jackson Hole (1100 + miles) where I didn’t see another Porsche. Not one. The 1400 + miles of roads from the tip of the boot of Italy to Stuttgart, Germany have simply got to have more Porsches on the road and Porsche mechanics. It’s a comforting thought.

Most of all, I am not worried about breakdowns because I am not traveling alone.

There, I said it. My secret is out.

Last Sunday, I attended the Porsche Club Cars and Coffee at Sweet Berry Farm in Middletown, RI. I was in the middle of a conversation when a woman I had never seen before came running toward me, arms outstretched. “Susan! Susan, it’s Kris! It’s great to meet you in person!” I was delighted. We had warm hugs for each other before I introduced her to the puzzled person at my side. Kris is just one (delightful) example of everyone who travels with me by replying to my photos, articles and posts -- from the Porsche Facebook Groups, to my readers on my website and Substack, and even those I meet along the way.

I didn’t realize how fabulous this is until I needed an oil change coming into Minneapolis and a quick check-in with the local Porsche Club yielded some choices to get the work done. The mechanic heard about my road trip and time constraints and pushed me to the head of the line (apologies to that unknown person I bumped). By the time the Blue Car had a new filter and fresh oil, there was a group of workers and Porsche owners surrounding me offering all kinds of suggestions for roads to travel, restaurants to enjoy, and hikes to take. In Nashville, on the way home from the west coast, I found another shop the same way and the owner let me use the hose to wash the car. The next morning, I took up the invitation to visit a PCA Club member’s home where a few people were working on a Porsche on his garage lift.

In Napa, a chance meeting with two Porsche owners at a wine tasting led to a text the next morning from a complete stranger, inviting me to EASY Cars and Coffee in Emoryville, CA which then led me to LePit Club’s Cars and Coffee a day later in Lafayette. At EASY, I met Michael Allen Ross, automobile photographer par excellence, and got some tips (oh, to take photos of cars like he does), heard the lowdown on shipping cars to Europe from another Porsche owner (thank you!) and got recommendations for some good roads to travel. A week earlier, while I was getting in my car in Mendocino, a man came running out of a store in the quaint downtown, waving his arms. He wanted to tell me about his father’s vintage Porsche and the memories he had of childhood rides. The next day I had an email from the father, who shared stories and encouraged me along the trip.

I spend whole days in solitude in the Blue Car, time I never knew I needed until recently. But I am not traveling alone. Ever. At any given minute I know there is a network out there that I can reach out to for help, for advice, for encouragement, and even a laugh. I expect my trip next year to be no different. Already there are generous and enthusiastic European souls in Porsche Facebook Groups helping me plan the best adventures. I hope some of us will meet up and share some fantastic rides.

This crowd along for my road trips has caused me to think about the people that have been along for the story of my life. I like to think I have managed on my own, that I have been independent, and that I have been strong. But that is a story that is only half told: the truth is that there has been a small crowd along for my wild ride of a life. A small crowd of family, friends, and sometimes strangers propping me up, cheering me on, raising a toast, or just going for a walk when I needed a friendly ear and exercise to work things out.

I am so very grateful for this. Here’s to the magic and beauty of crowds, or villages, or communities, or whatever we want to call them. While I believe I can deal alone with most of the things thrown at me, it’s nice to know I don’t have to.