Jackson Alexander
The Camry's Last Hurrah
By March of this year I knew the Camry was done for. Leah and I had owned a '94 Camry since the middle of 2023 and by the time we got it she was already coughing up blood. The car constantly hemorrhaged oil, shook like a small dog when idling, and the timing belt was not only impossible to change without an engine hoist, it was 14 years old. The car had done a 1,200 mile road trip around the Gaspe peninsula in the dead of winter, a 1,000 mile road trip to New York, and endless commuting in between. It never once died on us, and I just had to replace basic parts every now and then. It always made me nervous but kept on trucking. She was a damn good car, but as life moved on and paychecks get larger, cars that piss themselves in your driveway on the regular tend to fall out of favor.
With all of this in mind, come March I was certain the Camry was going to be sold. I was sick of the constant upkeep, even though I loved the thing. We already knew we were going to buy something else by the time my buddy had gone out for some training on the G15 job out of NMJ. One of the days he was training the sky decided it wanted to put a nice blanket of snow on Maine in late March, and I saw this as an opportunity to give the Camry one last chase in the season it did so well in. For a little FWD sedan, that fucker ate up powder. So I drove down to Searsport and had a nice chat with my conductor and trainee friends alike, and off I went on the chase.
She didn't go out without a fight. The Camry was besting the hills of Route 1A, sliding around corners, and fearing no slick conditions along the chase. I may or may not have had an operator error along the way that was corrected by a friend of mine however. Driving up to a rural crossing I thought I heard them blowing for, I slammed on the brakes. I'd rather go into a ditch than be hit by my own friends, but alas they weren't there yet and my car was now teetering on the edge of a deep ditch. A friend of mine helped with a push and we were on our way again.
The last shot of the chase came at the trestle in Frankfort. A classic shot of the old BAR now overcome with trees, I decided to try a ground angle on this day. It would prove to be my favorite shot of the line to Searsport from NMJ to date.
After this, the Camry drove my fiance to work for another week or two before we bought a 2015 Volvo S80 and let the Camry go to a younger fella from the local area. The car is still running and apparently he plans on fixing every issue I was not inclined to fix. God bless the Toyota Camry.
The Camry's Last Hurrah
By March of this year I knew the Camry was done for. Leah and I had owned a '94 Camry since the middle of 2023 and by the time we got it she was already coughing up blood. The car constantly hemorrhaged oil, shook like a small dog when idling, and the timing belt was not only impossible to change without an engine hoist, it was 14 years old. The car had done a 1,200 mile road trip around the Gaspe peninsula in the dead of winter, a 1,000 mile road trip to New York, and endless commuting in between. It never once died on us, and I just had to replace basic parts every now and then. It always made me nervous but kept on trucking. She was a damn good car, but as life moved on and paychecks get larger, cars that piss themselves in your driveway on the regular tend to fall out of favor.
With all of this in mind, come March I was certain the Camry was going to be sold. I was sick of the constant upkeep, even though I loved the thing. We already knew we were going to buy something else by the time my buddy had gone out for some training on the G15 job out of NMJ. One of the days he was training the sky decided it wanted to put a nice blanket of snow on Maine in late March, and I saw this as an opportunity to give the Camry one last chase in the season it did so well in. For a little FWD sedan, that fucker ate up powder. So I drove down to Searsport and had a nice chat with my conductor and trainee friends alike, and off I went on the chase.
She didn't go out without a fight. The Camry was besting the hills of Route 1A, sliding around corners, and fearing no slick conditions along the chase. I may or may not have had an operator error along the way that was corrected by a friend of mine however. Driving up to a rural crossing I thought I heard them blowing for, I slammed on the brakes. I'd rather go into a ditch than be hit by my own friends, but alas they weren't there yet and my car was now teetering on the edge of a deep ditch. A friend of mine helped with a push and we were on our way again.
The last shot of the chase came at the trestle in Frankfort. A classic shot of the old BAR now overcome with trees, I decided to try a ground angle on this day. It would prove to be my favorite shot of the line to Searsport from NMJ to date.
After this, the Camry drove my fiance to work for another week or two before we bought a 2015 Volvo S80 and let the Camry go to a younger fella from the local area. The car is still running and apparently he plans on fixing every issue I was not inclined to fix. God bless the Toyota Camry.