When I was little, my mom used to take me with her to the car wash, where I would sit inside the car and watch as she hosed down the exterior. I used to love to watch the water as it hit the windows.
For some reason, washing the car seemed like a very grown-up activity — almost a rite of passage — and I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to help, because that would mean I was officially a grownup. Being a grownup was my only real goal in life. Grownups got to stay up late and do cool stuff like washing the car and cooking dinner.
I’ve never really lost my enthusiasm for the car wash. I have a whole collection of photographs of self-serve car wash bays from up and down Route 66. I guess that’s a weird thing to photograph, but it reminds me of time I spent with Mom when I was little.
Here in Coldwater, we have a two-bay car wash down the street from the Tumbleweed. I don’t use it very often (this is, after all, New Mexico, and I’d feel guilty about wasting water on something so frivolous), but the weather today was gorgeous, so I decided to wash the truck.
There’s not usually much grass in Coldwater, but you can see from the picture that there’s a little bit near the bays. I guess it grows there because the runoff keeps it watered regularly.
I love the car wash….
— Sierra
