Goodbye Norma Jeep

There were tears when it was upon its deathbed. Hoisted in such irreverent fashion. The auto-wrecker driver sensitively nodding as we asked to watch. 
"You have no idea. This car..." and I shook my head. Not to be dramatic. But because I didn't have words to sum up God's faithfulness via the Jeep. 
The trips we've taken. The city streets we've mobbed through. The mountains we've driven over. The snow we've plowed. The forest roads we've gotten lost on. The logging trails we've beaten down. 

Sure I've been sad about leaving a place. Like Vancouver. That was rough. 
But leaving the thing... nay, rejecting and sending away that which got us places... that's different somehow. It almost feels cruel. Off to be junked. So unfitting and end. I wish I could leave it on Mt Adams in commemoration. 
Alas. I need the cash.

I wonder what it was like for Caleb and Joshua to pack away their tents. Did they brush off the dust and fold it tenderly? Did their wives repurpose them? Curtains? Floor cushions?

If I had just a smidgen of their courage I think I'd be good to go. 
Albeit, on a bike.