What is your all time favorite automobile?
There are some things in life that mark you forever. Your first crush. That perfect meal you can still taste years later. That one weekend you drove a Chevy Trailblazer across state lines and suddenly understood what Americans mean when they say “road trip.”
Let me take you back to that weekend when I was living in the States. I needed to drive to another state—the details of why are fuzzy now, lost to time and the general chaos of life—but what I remember with crystal clarity is walking up to that rental car lot and seeing her.
Okay, fine, I didn’t know it was going to be love at first sight. I probably just needed something with four wheels that wouldn’t break down halfway through my journey. But then I slid into the driver’s seat of that Chevy Trailblazer, and something clicked.
The Weekend Everything Changed
It wasn’t just a car. It was a feeling. You know that sensation when everything just feels right? When the steering wheel fits perfectly in your hands, when the acceleration is smooth but powerful enough to make you feel like you’re in a movie, when the view from that slightly elevated SUV position makes you feel like the captain of your own destiny?
That was me, cruising down American highways, probably with the radio too loud, definitely with the air conditioning on full blast (because American summers don’t play), living my best life in a vehicle that cost more for that one weekend than I was comfortable admitting to my bank account.
The Trailblazer and I had a moment. Multiple moments, actually. We conquered highways. We parallel parked (okay, I parallel parked her, and she made it look easy despite my questionable skills). We sat in drive-through lines together. We became a team.
And then Monday came, as Mondays cruelly do, and I had to return her to the rental place. I remember looking back as I walked away, probably more dramatically than the situation warranted. “One day,” I whispered to the universe, or maybe just to myself. “One day, you’ll be mine.”
The Dream Deferred (But Not Dead)
Here’s the thing about dreams: they don’t always follow a logical timeline. They certainly don’t care about practical considerations like “which continent you live on” or “local market availability.”
Fast forward to present-day Kenya, where I now reside, and where American-made cars are about as common as snow in Mombasa. I’ve looked. Oh, have I looked. Every time I’m on the road, my eyes scan the traffic like a meerkat searching for predators, except I’m searching for that distinctive Trailblazer silhouette.
Occasionally, I spot one. It’s always a moment. I crane my neck. I probably make my passengers uncomfortable with my sudden excitement. “THERE’S ONE!” I announce, pointing like I’ve just spotted a rare bird. My friends have learned to just nod supportively.
The Waiting Game
The truth is, owning a Chevy Trailblazer in Kenya would be an adventure in itself. Finding parts? An epic quest. Finding a mechanic who knows their way around American engineering? Possibly mythical. Explaining to people why I didn’t just buy a Toyota Land Cruiser like a sensible person? Priceless.
But love isn’t always sensible, is it?
I think about that weekend often. Not in a sad way, but in that warm, nostalgic way you think about things that showed you what you wanted before you were ready to have it. That Trailblazer taught me that sometimes joy comes from the most unexpected places—like a rental car agreement and an open highway.
The Hope
So here I am, years later, still dreaming of the day I’ll own one. Maybe it’ll happen when I least expect it. Maybe I’ll be scrolling through some obscure car import website at 2 AM (as one does) and there she’ll be. Maybe the universe will align, the stars will cooperate, and the exchange rate will be favorable.
Or maybe the dream itself is enough for now. Maybe the anticipation of one day sliding back into that driver’s seat, this time knowing the car is mine, is part of the joy. Maybe the journey toward the dream is just as important as the destination.
But also, if anyone knows where to buy a reasonably priced Chevy Trailblazer in Kenya, please call me. Immediately. I’ll be the one sprinting in your direction, ready to hand over whatever amount of money it takes, finally ready to reunite with the automobile that started it all.
Until then, I’ll keep dreaming, keep looking, and keep telling this story to anyone who’ll listen. Because some loves are worth waiting for, even if they come with a steering wheel and an American engine.
Somewhere out there, there’s a Trailblazer with my name on it. And one day, we’ll ride off into the sunset together. Probably stuck in Nairobi traffic, but still. It’ll be magical.
