Funny how a car can influence your whole being. Well, it can mine. Way back I was the not-so-proud owner of a Mazda MPV, a mini-van, a mom van. It served its purpose. Many a diaper was changed in the rear, and it hauled both my boys safely to and fro. Ultimately it transformed into the nursery van (plants not children) and harbored enough dirt to become a container garden. Despite my total disdain of being remotely associated with such a van, I readily admit to shedding more than one tear when I sold it many years and 175,000 miles later.

What took its place is what I endearingly refer to as my divorce car. My, yes I know my children are moments away from being large teenagers, and yes I know this thing will haul one 5-gallon plant if I’m lucky and can bend it in half, my I don’t give a rat’s ass if your knees are in your chest, my I am single and Charlize Theron you freaking rock and I loved The Italian Job, and oh my god I have my very own turquoise MINI Cooper S!!!! I have never, in all my life, felt so bad ass in a car. It changed me, as if holding that leather steering wheel sent a current of confidence throughout my entire body. It was also the subject of the world’s best first date ice breaker. Texting conversation prior to meeting at a restaurant: Me, upon parking, “I’ll be the one in the turquoise MINI.” Me, after realizing how silly that sounded because of course I wouldn’t be staying in my car, “Well, I’ll be getting out of it. I don’t plan on staying in it.” Him: “OH MY GOD, I thought you meant your skirt!!!” (Sadly, the date was a disaster.) The Cooper was without a doubt the single most impractical purchase of my life but it was worth every stinking penny. Well, until it started needing maintenance. I was warned about MINIs, and the cost of fixing them, but I bought it anyway, and had two fantastically fabulous years in it, and I wouldn’t do a damn thing different. And yes, I found a dress to match it.


In the spirit of full disclosure, it wasn’t just the cost of repairs that influenced me to part with the MINI. I started dating a Mercedes salesman. And seeing as how MINIs are essentially BMWs in disguise, and BMW is the anti-christ to a Mercedes aficionado, well, two months in and I was signing papers on a C280. Which, don’t get me wrong, was freaking awesome and I never in a million years saw myself behind the wheel of a luxury car, but, bottom line it was a 4-door white sedan. Yes, it was safe. That V6 was zippy. It had heated seats, and good grief I felt dull in it. And pretentious. And whoa, I only thought the repairs on the MINI were expensive. Ouch. Once the relationship and the warranty expired I was SOL and needed something different ASAP. Fortunately I never ended up with a matching white dress.


Enter Kia. Months of research led me to the Soul. Affordable, safe, spacious, different, funky.  Boxy, but not a full on cube. Dare I say cute? How about ugly sexy, kinda like Gerard Butler? Yeah, that’s a stretch, and holy moly there is nothing ugly about him. Point is, it doesn’t aesthetically appeal to everyone. Yet I was drawn to it but couldn’t pinpoint why. And then one day it hit me. I happened to see a Soul right next to a MINI. They are remarkably similar. The Kia Soul is, I can barely type this, ugh it almost hurts to say it, deep breath, like a practical MINI Cooper. My now giant teenagers fit in it without resorting to yoga positions (I actually had a 6’4″ man comfortably in the back seat with a full size human in front of him); it can clear speed bumps at the local grocery store; it gets 25-29 MPG and won’t cost an arm and a leg to fix (fingers crossed). AND, it’s fun and sporty and when I get behind the wheel I feel a connection. I feel bad ass again. No, I’m not the first one out of the gate anymore at the stoplight, but maybe that’s ok. Granted, I was not in the market for red, but it’s definitely growing on me. And duh, who doesn’t want a new red dress?!? You’ll have to wait on a pic of that.


Shortly after I bought my Soul I began to hear it referred to as the Hamster Wagon. A little info about me here: I own a TV. It’s even connected to DirecTV. Mind you, I couldn’t access that service if I tried. The only thing it is ever used for is movie viewing, either on a disc or streamed through Netflix. Any conversation that starts with, “Have you seen the commercial…” can be abruptly answered with, “no.” Needless to say, I had no idea why my new-to-me car was getting called such names. Yeah, it’s not particularly fast, but it’s not powered by rodents either. Then someone sent me a link to the Kia commercials that apparently everyone on the planet but me has seen. Ok, they have a certain catchiness to them. But come on, Kia?? Quite honestly, if I’d seen the ads first, I would have had major second thoughts about my purchase. In fact, I’m not sure I would have even considered the Soul. Seriously, there is nothing bad ass about hamsters. So, I give you my very own ad campaign for the awesome Kia Soul:

Going where my Soul takes me.

Remember I mentioned I don’t do TV? My soul cries a little each time a commercial comes on (oh, the irony of that statement in a potential ad campaign). Reality TV makes me sick to my stomach, and I’d honestly rather die alone tomorrow than spend my precious days and/or nights slumped on a couch with someone and their remote. Give me wide open spaces, and a long white line. I want to feel the wind in my hair, the salt on my skin, and see a little more of this gorgeous planet every chance I get. Luckily I now have a job that allows me two days off in a row, occasionally three, and ultimately three weeks of paid time off! I love my work, but by no means do I live to work, and given the opportunity I will hit the road. And yes, I will go wherever my Soul takes me. In the six short weeks since I’ve owned my Kia she’s travelled over 3,000 miles: from the Texas Hill Country, to the Gulf Coast, to far West Texas damn near the Mexican border. Not once did my legs cramp, or my back ache, even during the ten hour return trip from west of the middle of nowhere. Yep, I’m pretty dang happy with my Soul. We will go far.  

Destination: Fredericksburg. First road trip in my Soul, a simple day trip to see how she feels out on the open road. Requisite stop for ripe, juicy Texas peaches!  

Downtown F’burg. Lunch at the fantastic Vaudeville. Since she had to wait at the curb I brought back a doggy-bag for her.


Next stop: Enchanted Rock. Unfortunately she’s not four-wheel drive, and cars aren’t allowed on the mammoth granite dome anyway, but I think she enjoyed the view from the parking lot. I sure enjoyed it from the top.  


Destination: Port Aransas, aka, Port A!!!!! My soul was craving beach time like you would not believe so it was the obvious choice for the next road trip in the Soul. A super comfy 4-hour drive later, a $12 parking permit, and bam: sun, sand, and surf. She seemed quite content working on her tan while I played in the waves.

Destination: Chinati Hot Springs. Three days off in a row and time to up the ante. 499 miles one way, 36 of them on the Mexican border, the last 7 gravel. I needed to check out, and hot springs in the middle of nowhere without cell service sounded blissful. It was. First stop: Marfa.

Three hours later the gravel road to relaxation begins.  

She handled it like a champ. High five.

Two days, two stellar hikes, multiple soaks in the hot springs later, we reluctantly loaded back up.  


As much as we all wanted to cross over to Mexico (those mountains in the distance), we opted to save that for another adventure.


Safely back home, I’m already gassed up and fantasizing about the next trip.  


My mini-van cradled my babies and hauled my livelihood, my MINI Cooper liberated me, and my Mercedes pampered me. My Soul is going to take me places. Real life, on the road, dusty, bumpy, sandy, free. Way better than hamsters. Way better.