Check Engine Light

Today was another day off and I finally finished the China scrapbook--exactly 100 pages! I headed out later in the afternoon to head to Boulder to get some page inserts to complete the entire thing, and my "check engine" light turned on in Roxanne (my car) about five miles outside of Estes. I pulled over on the side of the road to turn her off and then back on again and the light was still there so I headed back to town and decided to save the trip for another day.

When that light comes on, different people respond in different ways. There are some who are blinded by the light and completely stop everything until the problem is fixed, and then you have the opposite end of the spectrum where people completely ignore it until their car shuts down because it wasn't cared for properly.

It's just a tiny rectangle hidden among the gauges clustered on the dashboard near the steering wheel. When everything is well, it is blank and seemingly invisible. Then one day, unexpectedly and unaccountable, it glows that yellow-orange color and commands, "check engine." Drivers are trained to respond to this sort of mechanical order. When lights flash "low fuel," they hurry to a gas station. When a tiny indicator speaks of inadequate oil pressure, they add oil. But what about this light? Especially when (as in my case) the engine shows no obvious signs of malfunction or anything other than its usually content humming. How do you check for a problem and what do you check?

In my eyes, this isn't an immediate problem that indicates the necessity to drop everything at once until it's fixed. It's a warning of a looming disaster, but nothing that is immediate. It's too bad there isn't a "check engine" light in life--something physically there to warn of similar looming disasters and give time to respond before it's too late. It is never good to be constantly paranoid, but if there was some indicator of a potential disaster, hesitation would prevent a possible catastrophe. I guess there is a light of sorts though that helps guide through these times. That's where the idea of faith comes into play--both with a car and with life. If you have faith, you can count on getting where you need to go before the situation goes awry.

Tomorrow I have a fourteen mile hike day on the West Side. That means I have to drive over Trail Ridge Road. This is the highest road in the National Parks system, topping out at over 12,000ft before the ride back down. I'm a little apprehensive, but hopefully everything will go ok. Scott and Connor (two of the YMCA guys) are coming along, so at least I won't be completely stranded. At least Roxanne gave me a warning so I am alert enough to not send her over a cliff. The thing to look out for both with Roxanne and in my life is to make sure I don't drive around too long with that light on before I go in to understand the problem more thoroughly.