Getting a rental was a bit more problematic. After explaining my situation to two representatives (“My life was in my car, with bicycle in tow”), they direct us to a Hertz office about 15 minutes away. We have 18 minutes to get there before they close.
The last non-sedan car on the lot is a Nissan Pathfinder. The agent unlocks the door and has me sit in the drivers’ seat. It is hot and smells vaguely of vomit. It has a keyless push-button start, an utterly pointless innovation, in my estimation, and I’ll spend the next week trying to figure out what the hell to do with the damn door-lock fob once I am in the driver’s seat. I ask the agent where the release for the fuel door is, and he has no idea. We are finally reduced to pulling out the car manual, and even following written instructions, it does not work as explained. The car is one big blind spot — has a back-up camera to compensate for pervasive and egregious poor design. It is a car that should not exist. However — it fits all my stuff AND my bicycle easily, which I try to remind myself every time I crawl into the thing. Gratitude is gonna go a long way on this journey.