This week’s low was absolutely terrifying.

I had a horse show over the weekend, and I had to drive to New Jersey (near Trenton). The place I was staying the night before the show was in Pennsylvania, about 3 and a half hours from PSU and about 45 minutes from the barn in New Jersey. 

I left PSU on Friday night because I had to be at the show early on Saturday morning. It was around 6 pm when I got on the road, and the beginning of the drive stunk. It was rainy, foggy, dark, and just genuinely difficult to see. But that’s not even the low.

I arrived at my teammate’s house safely (we stayed with our teammates instead of in a hotel – that’s a perk of club sports – no funding from PSU means no money for hotels). I parked my car in her driveway and went to bed, excited and nervous for the next day.

The next morning, on the day of the show, I woke up at 6:15. I had to be at the show at 7:30, and it was a 45 minute drive. I wanted to give myself extra time to get there because I didn’t know where I was going. I got dressed and got into my car, still half asleep. I turned on my beloved Subaru.

My car revved to life, but there were a bunch of weird lights on my dashboard. At first, I didn’t think much of them (I blame the fact that I wasn’t fully awake yet – you should always be concerned when your car has lights on the dash). I tried to push on my break to take my car out of park, but when I pushed down it wouldn’t really move. 

“That’s weird.” I thought. And then I registered the warning lights. My stomach dropped. The lights and the brake were my Subrau’s ways of telling me that something was very wrong.

“Ok,” I thought, “maybe if I just take it out of park and drive a little, everything will be normal. It was fine when I went to bed, so nothing can be too wrong, right?”

Wrong.

I tried to reverse. Bad idea. I got my car out of park, and I had an uncontrolled, backwards roll down my teammates driveway. My break didn’t work unless I put my entire bodyweight on the pedal, and my steering wheel would not turn (I found out about the steering wheel AFTER I started rolling down the driveway). 

Eventually, I was able to shove my break down hard enough to get the car back into park. Phew.

Apparently, driving was not the solution. 

I called my dad, who said my car needed to get to a garage. He was freaking out because I was in a strange place, far from home and from Penn State. I went inside and woke up my teammate. I felt really bad, because she did not have to be at the show that day, and it was 6 in the morning. I told her I needed her parents because I had to take my car to a garage. I have no idea how to take my car to a garage. I’m an 18 year old girl, not an adult. 

We woke up her dad, and he came outside (in his pajamas) and asked if he could fiddle with my car a little. I said, “of course.” I had no idea what else to do.

He tried to push the brake down, frowned, and did the same thing I had done. He put the car in reverse and had a small, uncontrolled roll down the driveway until he was able to shove the brake down and get back into park.

Then he frowned again, turned the car off, and removed the key. I thought he had given up and was going to call a garage, but he put the key back in and started up the car. 

The lights on the dashboard were gone. He pushed the brake. It went down. He smoothly reversed out of the driveway and drove my car around the cul de sac.

When he pulled back into the driveway, he said, “I think you’re good to go.” 

I stared at him, open mouthed. I literally just had to turn it off and turn it back on. Everything was fine. I panicked that I had no car. I had woken up my dad, my teammate, AND her father instead of simply turning my car off and back on. Embarrassing.

I ended up making it to the show, and I got second. I guess that’s my high. Also, nothing is wrong with my car (yay). I’m going to pretend I’m happy about getting second. I’m not super happy with the way I rode, but I can’t think of anything else that could be a high this week (it’s been a long one). 

Maybe a small high is that I’m going home soon. But I also might not be able to get home – and that’s probably going to be the story for my next low 🙂