#dirtbagswag whips 002: Eli and His Subaru

Many say it is the greatest public works project in history. Some say it was a military conspiracy to transport  nuclear missiles during the cold war. Some say it helped destroy small highway towns like those along Route 66 (re: Cars). Still others, hopeful romantics like myself, claim that the United States Interstate Highway System is a testament that the best parts of the human spirit are still alive.

When Dwight D. Eisenhower signed the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956, he could not have anticipated the far reaching impact it would have. It's not perfect, but its 47,000 miles of highway are the physical manifestation of the human desire to go. To go where we haven't been before. To go to the places we love, the places we need. Driving is, for me, a sacred space where human spirit, deep thought, and the open road meet in an almost divine triune.

There is a stretch of Interstate 40 that runs 105 miles across Tennessee between Nashville and Crossville that holds a very special place in my heart. It is the quickest route to my favorite place in the world, the confluence of Clear Creek and the Obed River. And most of those trips have taken place riding shotgun in Elijah's 2004 Subaru Forester. In that liminal space between origin and destination, we've talked about our differing but deep appreciation for Quakerism, how Renaissance era humanism propelled French exploration, and asked why yogurt companies advertise almost exclusively to women. Over the course of two years, Elijah has become one of my closest friends and I owe much of that to Dwight D. Eisenhower and Japanese auto engineering.

They say there's more Subarus per capita in Boulder, Colorado than there are broken down RV's in the entire state of Alabama. And it's rumored that some Subaru dealerships give out free whey grass and coconut water enemas with every test drive. In 2010, a Subaru study showed that "lesbians are four more times likely to own a Subaru than their heterosexual counterparts." And in 2013, Subaru basically told the Super Bowl, "we're not a part of your system," and opted to buy ad time during Animal Planet's Puppy Bowl instead. When my roommate suggested buying one, his American-made car dealer father replied, "No son of mine will drive one of them hippie cars." And oh, by the way, Subaru's signature, symmetrical All Wheel Drive drivetrain is more rugged than John Wayne and Ronald Reagan combined. 

When it comes to Subaru's consumer demographics, Elijah is the standard -- the poster child. He is an Ellen Degeneres doppleganger, a coffee fanatic, a "grow local, eat local" enthusiast, and a pretty darn good climber too. And he has the bumper stickers to prove it. Subaru, if you're reading this and looking for a commercial or advertisement model, Eli won't answer his phone but I know where he lives and he accepts payment in Coronas and burritos. 

the quintessential

Eli may be the embodiment of Subaru's stereotypical marketing demographics, but he is also the embodiment of the human spirit and desire to go. From the northeast to Southern California, from Okinawa to Nashville, he's lived in more places than I've traveled to and he has traveled to even more. He's seen covetous amounts of the world over and yet no place enraptures his soul like the burnt orange desert landscapes of Moab, Utah and the hidden strips of sandstone along the Obed River. To hear him talk about these places is to listen to Edward Abbey or Wendell Berry or even Jefferson himself. Elijah's desire to go has never triumphed his love of place and his 2004 Subaru Forester is the mode in which those best parts of the human spirit stay alive.

Whip Specs

make and model: 2004 Subaru Forester X
under the hood: 2.5 liters and 173 wild ponies
dirtbag mods: Eli installed curtains, a bed platform, and cooking apparatus for his cross country road trip around Edward Abbey's American West, but now just prefers to lay the seats down and roll up in a comforter with his dog Rocky. It also has a CD player.

Elijah and I graduated this May and we just had our last climbing trip at the Obed for a while. Life -- the human necessity to go -- means I'm leaving for guiding work in Colorado and he'll be God only knows where (possibly Antarctica) when I get back. The good news about the interstate is it is a never ending thing. It is as unending as the human necessity and desire to move and to go. And just as the interstate's 47,000 miles merge and intersect, so does the limitless movement of our lives.

Here's to Dwight D. Eisenhower, the Father of the Interstate Highway System.

Here's to Subaru Foresters marketed almost exclusively to outdoor enthusiasts, lesbians, and outdoor enthusiast lesbian look-a-likes.

Here's to Elijah, a travel companion, study buddy, lunch date, margarita enthusiast, belay partner, and friend.