Finding new treasures.

I can't believe how quickly this week has gone by! Last night was Friday night and I was still finishing Monday's newspaper. I feel badly that I've only done a couple of posts here. Right now it's 6 AM. I'm wolfing down two fried eggs on a toasted bagel. Time to go teach in a little bit. In order to not be too neglectful I'm doing a short post. Not that a lot hasn't happened this week. I just haven't had time to play scribe.

Wednesday night I went home through Brownsville. This is the small, quaint little town on the long way home. I noticed that the Russian side-car rig was parked downtown again. It seems to be there often. Right beside where it's parked is a bar and grill. Wonder if the rider comes in for supper and a pint. One day I might look them up.

Since there wasn't any rush to get home and the weather was great, I tooled around the small, older, part of the town. I'd seen this car with a tarp over it before. This time it was uncovered so I parked the bike to look. As I'm standing looking it over, an elderly lady came out of the house. We had a pleasant conversation about the car. Turns out it's a kit car. The woman told me that the kit was based on a 1937 Mercedes. Underneath it all is a Volkswagon motor.

Years ago the woman went to California to pick it up. She'd seen it advertised and went to look at it. Then she drove it home to Brownsville. It's always cool to find a kindred soul. A sense of adventure shouldn't have age limits. The motor is "dead" as she puts it. Selling the car or fixing it is the decision of the moment.

The car reminds me of some other situations in life. You can't always make an accurate assessment based on looks. You really won't know the truth until you "look under the hood".

If I were commuting in a car I probably wouldn't have seen this in the first place. It just seems we get in a car and take the direct route. Chances are great that, even if I had seen it, I wouldn't have stopped. There's this psychological barrier to having to find a bigger place to park, open the car door, and pull oneself out of the vehicle. With the bike being small and nimble, it's no job to turn around and go back. I'm already out in the open. Sliding off the bike is just a small thing. So many adventures we have are a direct result of being on a bike instead of a car.

Ain't it great?

Miles and smiles,
Dan