Goodbye to the Great Big White Cargo Van

Yesterday marked something of an “end of an era” in the life of Celtic Heritage: I said goodbye to the great big white Ford E-350 Super Duty diesel van.

The great big white cargo van that towed an Airstream trailer and transported two road warriors and one faithful canine to venues from Bangor, Maine to Waukesha, Wisconsin, from Marathon, Florida to Houston, Texas, and hundreds of other stops within that oddly-shaped quadrilateral that frames the eastern half of the United States.

It was a bittersweet parting. Emptying it out in preparation for a trade was like taking a trip down memory lane. The five-gallon bucket that held miscellaneous necessaries including a hammer, a rubber mallet, two different types of screwdrivers, 50-gallon trash bags, large clips and even larger clips, a pair of heavy-duty leather gloves, a can of WD-40, and duct tape -- several rolls of duct tape, in a couple of different colors and widths. Because you can’t say “necessary” and forget WD-40 and duct tape, the two most necessary items in the world: 1. if it doesn’t move and it should, then WD-40; and 2. if it moves and it shouldn’t, then duct tape.

Tucked away in other storage areas and odd nooks and crannies were the yards and yards of bright yellow caution tape that marked off a safety perimeter for Highland athletics ... the neon pink twine that roped off an area for the sheepherding demonstration ... the massively heavy bin containing hundreds of feet of heavy-duty extension cord -- I used to say we could run power to the Moon, with all the extension cords! The indestructably sturdy dolly (that I used to move the extension cord bin into the storage shed) ... the push pins, kept handy just in case there were a few posters that needed to be put up ... the yellow firemen’s rain slickers that sure came in handy when the weird storm hit one of our festivals. The security strap for the guitar stand -- I found it, Don! After -- how many years? -- I found it!

So many, many memories came flooding back as I emptied and then swept. Swept up dirt and dog hair. Some dirt and lots and lots of dog hair.

As I made the final climb into the big white van,

 
and took the driver’s seat for the last time,

 
then turned the key to make an unhurried drive down to Brandon (FL), I did actually feel a pang of regret. This van was purchased in 2005, after Greg and I had made the decision that, as much time as we were spending away from home and on the road, our tiny little 19-foot travel trailer just wasn’t going to cut it. We’d picked out a larger, 28-foot, Airstream, but needed a pull vehicle with enough power to haul hundreds of pounds of equipment and merchandise plus thousands of pounds of trailer, and concluded that only a diesel engine could do the work. Knowing that diesels, properly maintained, can be good for a million miles or more, Greg remarked, “This will be the last vehicle we ever have to buy.”

And that turned out to be true. Though certainly not in the way we expected.

And I was sad.

But that van took us to lots of happy adventures! To Highland Games and Renaissance Faires and State/County Fairs. Through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. To the French Quarter in New Orleans. Through Old Order Amish country and through Washington, D.C. Along the Blue Ridge Parkway and up the New York State Thruway. To Lakes Erie and Huron and Michigan and Superior. Through the Seneca Nation. To Key West and Stone Mountain and Banner Elk and Fredericksburg and the New River Gorge and Cape Cod.  To lots of Celtic Heritage festivals -- individually, about 50 of them, all told -- and to hundreds of concerts and other performances by Marcille Wallis / Marcille Wallis & Friends. Almost 200,000 miles of adventures.

So I’ll focus on the happy.

Things have shifted, slightly, for Celtic Heritage. The Airstream no longer needs to be hauled into New England or along the Great Lakes or across the mighty Mississippi. The great big white cargo van has been, for a couple of years now, “vehicular overkill,” and I’ll welcome actually being able to execute a u-turn or enter a parking garage. I’ve replaced the great big white cargo van with a smaller SUV -- still white, of course! -- that has the same basic range between fueling stops, but at a fraction of the cost to refuel. It’s a new chapter for me -- a Step Forward.

As I left the Ford dealership in my brand-spankin’-new vehicle, I paused for a few moments, to take one last long look at the great big white cargo van.

 
Step Forward.