By Sarah Fishman

The author getting set up for the perfect eclipse shot. (Courtesy Sarah Fishman)At 7 o’clock on the morning of Sunday, Aug. 20. I got into my beloved Chevy Trail Blazer and left my house in upstate New York, setting out for… somewhere on the path of totality. I wasn’t quite sure of my destination. I thought maybe it would be Charleston or Nashville, as they were about equidistant from my starting point, but figured I’d play it by ear and just head generally south until I made my decision.

I was making great time and didn’t feel restless or bored behind the wheel at all. Going in to the trip, I had worried about spending so much time alone with my thoughts, as I had just learned that my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me for half of our relationship. I was pleased to find, however, that being alone with my thoughts wasn’t scary at all. It was actually quite cathartic. I was able to think through all the reasons why it was a good thing he was out of my life for good. It was right in the middle of one of those thoughts, speeding down I-81 South in West Virginia, that I felt a jolt in my car. I looked down at my dashboard to see that my RPM had skyrocketed to 5,000 but my gas pedal wasn’t responding at all.

I quickly pulled off to the side of the highway and put the car in park. Realizing I wasn’t as far off the road as I would have liked, I shifted back into drive and attempted to pull a little closer to the guardrail. Instead the RPM jumped to 5,000 again and I started rolling backwards into oncoming traffic. Immediately I turned off the car and decided I was fine right where I was.