After being confined to mostly the same 5-kilometer radius or so for the past four months, I was hungry for a small adventure. A two-hour drive from Dublin was this hiking trail that intrigued me and seemed ripe for such an adventure. The walk had a boardwalk all the way to the top, and after seeing many pictures, I wanted to be apart of that beauty. It seemed the only way to do accomplish this and get some fresh air would be to rent a car to drive there. So, my friend Shelby and I rented a car – unbeknownst to us, the car rental portion would dominate of the adventure.
As a former Sustainability Coordinator, and someone who generally cares about minimizing the human impact on the planet, I should have been more excited about renting an electric car. But I think a part of me knew that it would be a more complicated endeavor, to drive two hours away for a hike in a vehicle that had to be charged every 100 miles or 160 kilometers. But through this rental company, the only way to ensure that we would drive an automatic car was by renting electric.
When we left Dublin, the car said it had 220 kilometers until an empty tank — perfect amount to get us to the trailhead some 175 kilometers away and then back to Cavan. In Cavan there would be a charging station that would fill the rest of the tank to return to Dublin. Though surprising to us, as we approached Cavan on our way to the hike, the numbers on the car didn’t add up. So we pulled over to a charging station that I had saved through my maps app. As we stumbled to get the car connected to the small charging station, a passerby suggested that we use the ‘faster’ charging port which had recently been installed in town. This man was probably an angel. We found this new fangled charging station and plugged in our car. Little did we know, we used the wrong cord.
At the point of stopping we needed enough charge to get us roughly 100 kilometers to get us to the trailhead and back to Cavan. When we stopped to charge, we had roughly 40 kilometers until an empty tank. After an hour and a half of charging, we had only increased the charge to get us an additional 20 kilometers – 63 kilometers to an empty tank. Defeated, we drove away, in hopes that the numbers were wrong. They weren’t. What ensued was a stressful 30 minutes driving back to Cavan with an unspecified number of kilometers left charged. Once back in that same parking lot which we had already spent an hour and a half, we figured out which cord would optimize the charge. With the proper cord plugged in, there would only be an hour until we again had a full tank. After anticipating an arrival to Cuilcagh – or the Stairway to Heaven – at 10 am, we arrived four hours later, at 2 pm.
The hike itself was stunning. Breathing in the fresh air, untainted by fumes and humans brought us a new sense of refreshment. The many steps of a boardwalk constructed to illustrate a dramatic path carved into the side of this mountain. Once on top of this mountain, we wandered and explored, the native vegetation at our feet and spectacular sights ahead. Apart from a relatively crowded trail on the way up, there were no more debacles. On the drive back, we found a lake and spontaneously stopped to take in the rolling green hills in the background, the random party, and live music at the lake’s edge.
After surviving that day, we reflected on how there were few people that could have persevered through this silly adversity and still emerge on the other side laughing and singing at the top of our lungs. Rather than hostility or frustration, we found laughter and hope to get through.
Shelby and I became friends at some point in undergrad. We shared a field of study and a few common pals. A year and a half ago we agonized about the next step after graduating from the University of Portland. It was at this point when Shelby suggested this Visa that Ireland offers. Fast forward eight months later, and I was on a plane with that Visa in hand, excited to meet up with Shelby, who had already begun to establish a life there. We knew that our lives would be relatively separate once arriving in Ireland – she was pursuing a Masters in International Relations, while I was seeking full-time work. But having someone in a foreign land who intimately understands the context I have come from has been an essential luxury.
Through moving to a new country, our friendship deepened. But in lockdown, our friendship blossomed. We have hardly spent more than a few days away from each other since I moved from Dublin 16 to Dublin 6. Initially, I was a fifteen-minute walk away, and when I moved again, I was a five-minute walk. Our proximity in terms of where we lived coincided with the proximity of friendship. There have been countless coffee breaks, pints, and competitive connect four and card games between us.
This new-found close friendship was evident as we shared subtle vulnerability. Blasting down the highway, blaring music that we know at least 70% of the words to, we felt a new sense of freedom. We were reminded that Life is a Highway, full of Wide Open Spaces and we would travel A Thousand Miles in a Fast Car singing Our Song – we’re Sorry Not Sorry.