It happened for my DW co-founder a few months before it happened for me.

I thought my time would never come. Or if it did, it would be shortly before I’d be on the side of the road, helpless as a deer with two flat tires.

Instead, it all worked out.

My odometer hit 200,000 and was good for more.

I have owned a lot of vehicles and, for reasons this and that, have never hit 200,000 miles. I always traded things in. Or somebody had wrecked my ride. But the 2009 Toyota Camry, my favorite model — a 2009 Paid4 — is still getting it done. It is a puke green so a chick mobile for sure (JOKE!), but I am just glad it runs.

The magic moment occurred after I came home from an East Coast college football game Friday night. Thursday, I’d caught the fancy ‘aeroplane’ in Monroe for the game to take me east. My odemoter sat on 199,900 solid.

Late Friday night, the high-falutin’ plane landed Saturday morning back in Monore about 1:30 am. I didn’t want to drive my car to Shreveport but it was the only way to get home.

I was on I-20 West, in Bossier City, between where the interstate signs read “Airline Dr. Next Exit” and “Airline Drive” when it happened. Mile Marker 22ish. My odemoter, she rolled over to 200,000.

Emmylou Harris was singing Ashes By Now.” It was 2:49 am. I was almost home. Traffic was light, and I didn’t HAVE to do anything all the rest of the day except get safely in bed.

After 200,000 miles, that’s a good thing.

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