Hello and welcome to a pretty nice last-Saturday-of-summer Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is September 3rd.
Yesterday was a big day at our house: the WAKWIR* got his driver’s license.
This is Kid #3 for us to get behind the wheel and is one of those cases where three times really is the charm. The first teen was overly cautious, the second was overly confident, and the third – just right. He’s also the first kid to commit himself to learning how to drive a stick shift and insisted on taking his driver’s test with our 1997 Subaru Legacy wagon. While I’ve admired his determination, it dawned on me yesterday why he was putting so much love into the Legacy: he wants it to be his car. (In spirit, not in title.) Which, I don’t mind because now that Senior 2.0 has upgraded to College Student 2.0, I’ve got my old Outback back.
The examiner kicked off the celebrations with: “The police station is right over there. You’ll want to report the incident.” Because Mr. College 2.0 did have an incident immediately upon receiving his driver’s license, I felt the déjà vu dread of Oh no, not again, until I realized he was joking. “You should see the faces of the parents who let their kids use their brand new trucks,” he said. I took it as a compliment that I hadn’t gone completely white.
After taking care of the paperwork to procure the actual license over at the DMV (another celebratory first for us: bringing all the correct documentation), the WAKWIR handed the keys over to me and said, “You drive, Ma, I’m too stressed out.” Which I happily did, because in those few short blocks from the testing site to the DMV, he was skittish on the brakes, almost drove through an intersection while a pedestrian was still crossing on the other side, and parked too close to the vehicle in front of him at the DMV. And that déjà vu dread was still slinking through my instincts like a black cat.
Soon after, kids and I were loaded up in the van to go south for my relatives’ annual family gathering. (The first since 2019!) By this time, the WAKWIR had perked up considerably and was ready to drive. I offered to take the first shift, a good call on this mama’s part because the kid conked out and snoozed almost the entire way from Warroad to Kelliher. I thought of it as completing the stress cycle.
We debated whether to get gas in Kelliher – known for its cheap gas – or, to take our chances on a quarter tank and go for Pine River – known for even cheaper gas. I even had a Plan B, Godfrey’s in Backus which I learned a few weeks ago has been pricing matching the Pine River competitors.
The WAKWIR took to the wheel and played his electronic music playlist while I broke out some limited dance moves, reminiscing about my European clubbing days in my youth when we called this techno. (“That’s a genre of electronic music, Mom.”)
“Look! Gas is $3.49!” he exclaimed as we drove through Blackduck. “Keep going,” I said, knowing from experience that Blackduck is always more expensive. I even felt a little giddy. Oh, goodie, I thought. If the gas is $3.49 in Blackduck, what’s it going to be in Pine River? We continued on our way with our merry chatting and van dancing.
The gas light turned on just south of Cass Lake.
Google Maps told me that Godfrey’s in Backus (forget about Pine River) was 45 miles away – just far enough away to not want to risk it. No worries, though; we had an emergency gas can in the back.
Feeling pretty smart about gas cans, and ready to impress my kids with this knowledge, the first trouble I had was opening it. The cap was screwed on so tightly, it felt like trying to unscrew a bolt with my bare hands. I was ready to blame my engineering husband for wrenching it on so tightly when I noticed the jagged teeth rimming the edge of the cap. Apparently, gas cans have upgraded to locking caps since my last experience with one.
It took two pairs of hands to unscrew that cap. But, hey, no worries, I thought again. I triumphantly twisted it off. As expected, there was a nozzle inside. The mechanics were a little bit different but I was able to separate the nozzle from the cap ring and reattach it appropriately. All that was left was to pour the gas into the tank and we’d be on our way.
The gas wouldn’t pour. I panicked.
While the WAKWIR was assuring me he could handle it, I called my husband, who genuinely wanted to know why I was calling him. “Because car care is your job!” More words not appropriate for this family-friendly blog volleyed back and forth until I heard: “Mom! I figured it out.”
“How’d you do it?” I asked when we were back on the road with the WAKWIR in the driver’s seat. (Now I was the one who had to recover from being stressed out.) “I looked at the pictures on the label.” Yes, it was a proud mama moment, further cemented by his next comment: “You see, Mom, now we’ve got two people in the family who know all about cars.”
We celebrated our safe arrival to the Arrowwood Lodge in Baxter with late-night Domino’s pizza, a 2-liter bottle of Coke, and Loony Toons cartoons.
By the way? The price of gas in Backus and Pine River? $3.59.
*Wannaskan Almanac Kid Writer-in-Residence
On This Day
Historic Highlights (credits)
Happy Birthday to You!🎶
Remembering You
Kim
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