Cars have never been particularly special to me, other than their ability to transport me from point A to B. I bought my first car at 24, relying on bus, bike, or a friend or family member’s car prior to that. Early in our relationship I remember Russ quizzing me on the model or even make of cars we passed. I was pretty good with VW, and that was about it. Add to that a shared frugality we both have (and having been together for over forty years), and it may not be surprising that up until last week, our cars were both 20+ years old. Those eight years ago when I bought my electric bike, I told myself it was a good way to go to reduce my dependence on gasoline while we awaited purchasing an electric vehicle. We also consciously identified driving a car as long as possible to be sustainable, especially since neither of us used our cars to commute to work in this past couple decades.

Back when we bought our Ford Explorer in 2002, I pushed back. I’ve never liked driving larger vehicles. Yet, as I lay in a trauma ward at Emmanuel Hospital, following the totaling of our Toyota Tercel, Russ insisted on asking all the medical professionals which car they recommend for safety. He pushed a bit for a suburban, but of course I put my foot down, and we chose the Explorer. Two years later we replaced our (old) Volvo wagon (this one we donated to OPB) with this newly used Hyundai. For the past year we have known we were due to replace it, but we are pretty good at ignoring major purchases. At least those that don’t (yet) feel essential. But it was when driving home from taking care of the little guy a couple of weeks ago I sensed we had reached the time. I barely made it up Hidden Springs, and a cracked radiator sprayed a cloud of hot steam and coolant from the hood as I pulled into our driveway. Honestly, I was simply grateful not to be on the side of I-205. It was shortly after that when we went shopping. More on that in a moment. But first…

Moments of serendipity flow through my life. The transferring of our little red car is no exception. Dozens of years ago I worked with a guy. Let’s call him Chris. I was young, co-raising our two small daughters and going to work (when I wasn’t visiting clients) in a building on Northeast Mississippi, back before it became hip. Our daughters’ height marks were still on the wall when Marine and Environmental Testing, the consulting firm I worked for, sold the building. (Today the location is the Q Center.) But Chris was even younger than me. Our kids were intrigued with this young guy who, while an industrial hygienist like me, also was into cars and had a bit of experience (let us say) with speeding tickets. The two of us rarely see each other these days, perhaps at the biannual Governor’s Safety and Health Conference or some safety-related function. But, as he learned about the status of our car, he reached out. Yes, even with all the downsides, FaceBook can be helpful in reach and connection. As we saw each other today, he reminded me how I referred him to the job he still has years later. I reminded him back when we had that horrible car accident on Timberline Road and I was out of work for six weeks with a broken back. And my fellow co-workers, like Chris, gifted me their sick leave since I was back then working part-time and unbenefitted. That was a gift to us.

Although I did work in a bike shop during Missoula college days, most of my responsibilities then were selling bikes, changing tires and occasionally cleaning chains. I’ve never considered myself much of a mechanic and leave a lot of the car stuff to Russ who tends to be more interested, even though I do find satisfaction in fixing things. Although I can be a bit dangerous if given the internet, I’m pleased to report coming up with a helpful “fix” as Chris replaced the radiator. And soon, his daughter will be driving our old car. The same one our kids learned to drive. I’d just say there’s something pretty special about all this.

While I tend to say I don’t care much about cars, my motto is changing. I adore our new electric car, a 2027 Chevy Bolt. And while we thought it would be out of our price range for a bit longer, thanks to an Oregon rebate, and another from Costco, it’s feeling like a pretty good deal. Especially if we look at the price of gas. More than any of that, I am astounded as I realize choosing to drive it does not sacrifice my intention to reduce our personal consumption of fossil fuels. I do understand electricity has its own costs, but I too know it is currently a better way to go. How many times I have taken the bus or chosen my e-bike because I didn’t want to add my footprint to climate change or pollution!

Gratefully, in making these choices for so many years, I have come to adore riding my e-bike. Yes, I’ll be on it later today to meet up with Russ, also on his bike, in Willamette. Just as I too enjoy my occasional bus rides to Portland. And yes, if I was still working at OHSU, I’d choose my e-bike or bus, even with this cool new vehicle.

PS. Books and Events

Lake Oswego Library Third Tuesday

I offer a big thank you to the Lake Oswego Public Library for inviting me to present earlier this week as their Third Tuesday Author. After the fact, I recognized how pleased I was that the event was both live-streamed and recorded. You can watch it now on the library’s YouTube channel or below. Of course, in watching the recording, I too found a few times I misspoke (nope, Chloe and William were in Oregon City in 1844 not 1834, and the photo toward the end is of West Linn’s paper mill, not Oregon City’s.) Alas, the older I get the more I understand and nearly embrace the fact that none of us are perfect!

Clackamas County Historical Society’s Look Back Series

I look forward to presenting Where the river meets the story at the Museum of the Oregon Territory (MOOT) next Thursday, September 24 from 7-8 pm. Find us at: 2nd Floor (Murdock Gallery)
211 Tumwater Dr. in Oregon City. And yes, admission fees help MOOT continue with programs, staffing and exhibits!

“Join six-generation Oregonian and West Linn author Dede Montgomery as she explores the history, stories, and family legacies shaped by the Willamette River. Growing up on its banks in Wilsonville, Dede’s deep regional roots inspire her six books—including My Music Man and A Map of Her Own. Discover how she blends history, memoir, and fiction to bring the Pacific Northwest landscape to life.”

Astoria 2026 Writing Festival: The Urgency of Words

I’m thrilled to join a panel with Evan Morgan Williams and Carolyn Dasher at this year’s Writing Festival. The festival runs from October 2-4 at the Barbey Center located at 2042 Marine Dr., Astoria. Our panel is scheduled for Sunday, October 4 from 9:30-10:45 AM. See you there?

Dede’s Books