This weekend my dear, ‘95 Honda Civic came one step closer to dying. I spent a day skiing in White Pass and on the way home the clutch wouldn’t pop into fourth gear. Or fifth. There we were— full of endorphins and vitamin D and that light feeling you get collapsing into a car after a day of exploring the mountains — and Rhonda the Honda didn’t want to rev past 50 kilometers an hour.
I’ve had Rhonda for four years now. I’ve driven her everywhere. From my hometown in Southern BC to the Yukon, to work and back, in the middle of the night to visit boyfriends, to the grocery store, in a rush to a friend’s house down the street.
Like most Canadians, I grew up in a car culture. My parents and three siblings piled into our Ford Aerostar; we turned on a crackly CBC radio and off we went. The question of whether I really needed my own car after I graduated university was never something I carefully considered. I just wanted one. I was starting my real life and a car seemed like an appropriate box to check.  I remember the thrill of buckling into the Civic the first few times, turning on the engine and knowing it was all mine.
This weekend I parked Rhonda with intention: I would not open her doors for a long time. The transmission has been gurgling for over a year now and I fear the next time I turn on the engine it’ll be toast. I don’t yet know what I’ll do with her, but buying a new transmission, or buying another car seem like ridiculously expensive options.
To be honest, it’s a sweet relief to give Rhonda a break. I would be too scared to calculate how much I’ve spent on insurance and gas and repairs in the past few years.  And it makes me cringe to think about all the times I drove Rhonda and really didn’t need to.
This morning I pulled my socks over my jeans and rode my mountain bike to work. My face was cold because I forgot to wear a scarf and my gears weren’t shifting properly, but once I got over those frustrations I could focus on the morning: the Yukon river breaking up, the green, yellow and then red of the streetlight, the crunch of tire on gravel.
My cheeks were flushed as I logged into Facebook and saw it was Earth Day. What a lovely time to say goodbye to Rhonda.
Here at BYTE we’re always looking for new ways to green everything we do. We have a few bins of composting worms that live in the corner of the office. We turn our computers off at night and try to only print when absolutely needed. And a lot of us walk and bike to work. One staff even pulls a scarf to his eyes and runs with his dog to work in the middle of the winter.
Come on by to the BYTE office and check it out.
Happy Earth Day, everybody. Here’s to another year of simplifying, reducing, and being aware of the impact of our lifestyles.
And here’s to the retirement of my first (could it be my last?) car. Rest in Peace, Rhonda.
-Nadine