After marrying my lovely wife and moving to New England, it quickly became clear that there is now little need for my truck's services- my wife's car is newer, quieter and more fuel efficient; the truck has never handled winters particularly well; and what with my wife working at the same University as me, I go essentially nowhere without her (and we thus have little need for a second vehicle). The final bittersweet icing on the cake is that we are now moving to Cambridge, which is both metropolitan and old, and thus parking/storing my truck would have been well nigh impossible.
And so the decision was nearly made for me: the time had come to sell my truck.
I advertised on Craigslist, and found a buyer who, eerily enough, proclaimed upon coming to see the truck: "This is the exact model my grandfather owned!" He promised to take care of the truck (indeed he even used the words 'well loved') and I couldn't have asked for a better outcome for the situation.
[The new owner, and the old owner]
I must say, Rusty has had a good life. His original owners were my Shearer grandparents, from whom I took over around 2001, at the age of 17. I have now owned Rusty for over a decade, and we've been so many places together- the beach, the mountains, the desert, the Midwest, etc. We've been up and down The Rockies (with all my earthly possessions in tow), we've gotten stuck (literally) in the Mojave Desert, and done so many other adventurous/dangerous things together that I shan't bore you with today. He was my lone companion on many a camping trip, providing both transportation and a fairly roomy instant-hotel-room. By my count, Rusty and I have been together to over half the states in the union (see map below). How's that for a 26-year-old vehicle?
[States that Trusty Rusty and I have visited together are in black]
The few remaining mementos I have left from Rusty include one license plate (the other went to my grandmother) and this old pair of sunglasses which were in the glove compartment the day I got the truck (seen here on my face the day I gave the truck up.)
And so it is, a very bittersweet moment. The passing of the rust-colored torch. I can at least rest happily that he has gone to a good home. Below is the last picture I have of my old friend- one last hug!
Keep on trucking Rusty! Here's to 25 more years!