tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88664637854671133272024-03-12T20:43:33.918-07:00MarketPoint ProductionsDick Bear and Marketpoint ProductionsDick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06598878942420091764noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-70511076696052037092009-03-29T09:00:00.000-07:002009-03-29T13:44:04.266-07:00Until this Morning ....<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Until this morning I hadn't realized how the Army prepares its' members to say good-bye. A few hours ago we gathered in front of our house to say good-bye to Lt. Kyle Brinks; my daughter Erin's fiancée. For Jani and I it was about the 5th time we have had to say 'good-bye' and it was as difficult this time as it had been in the past. However, for Erin this was just another moment in a long string of moments requiring her to whisper 'good-bye' and offer encouragement to her best friend and soon to be husband before he drove off. </span><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNqiOqsfU2tMFtSM64-olT3lJkrLFp0twMG9oXJymjxpHvkj5L5UddIo2kT3uPOszLX127D2RluifNVTjP02_c-xKJYtp5hcWzdaoYAzxQuLmMHdCQgdxjUUEVCK__4UZxsl-tA6d_jY8/s320/IMG_1210.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318666073289920018" /><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW1inTRi4Bwa34mCqpKY8UGJsFgeh0gECiUHzADaxIFNUMVTVIcg9yGg8dJiN4xHO-_yYTAzwiYuoePVZES5hZqGbeUbmSYi4Oo9g3hKL8YCDH74Fnn_flrjyzh4zNxP41tkEFBoC8fSQ/s320/IMG_1206.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318666061985513490" /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Over the last 3 or 4-years Erin has had to say 'good-bye' to Kyle as he left Furman for ROTC duties, departed for multiple active duty assignments and after holiday gatherings. The number of times she has had to say 'good-bye' are far more numerous than I can recount and as an observer to many of those moments it appears to me that each time it gets easier for them. I don't mean to say they seem to be less connected or have less interest in being together than they did in the past but rather, because of the practice they've received over the years these moments appear to be easier now than they were in the past. I can only assume that their need to repeat it so often has strengthened them somewhat and that strength is evidence of their taking one more step in their preparation for the BIG ONE that will come too soon. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">For Kyle and Erin the moment for which the Army has been preparing both for will come next Spring when his (for now) permanent assignment as a platoon leader for a group of combat engineers at Ft Stewart will (it is rumored) result in his unit being deployed to Iraq. That will be the BIG ONE for them and no one is looking forward to the occasion. That will be the time for them to collect all the courage developed from all the 'Good-bye's' practiced in the past. They will, at that time, draw on every one of them!<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But for now the future is mostly bright with wedding plans being made and thoughts of their own family unit occupying both of their heads. So by the time Spring returns next year and the BIG ONE finally comes they will have had even more 'Good-bye' practice sessions to combine with the years of practice they have right now. And then, when most needed, all that practice and experience will converge to serve them well when it is most needed. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We pray! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Dick Bear</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-80830987618087304752009-03-14T00:18:00.000-07:002009-03-14T00:18:01.426-07:00Different Creations: McBearen<a href="http://differentcreations.blogspot.com/2009/01/mcbearen-logo.html#links">Different Creations: McBearen</a><div><br /></div><div>www.marketpointproductions.blogspot.com</div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-27480942062312354742009-03-12T06:40:00.001-07:002009-03-12T09:02:13.903-07:00Gone Junkin'<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:10px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I had often thought about doing it but never had.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">You know, taking time to stop, introduce myself and find out what junk another man might have buried under years of vegetation, in old sheds, in the grove or deep in some ditch located on the back 40.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I guess in the past I’ve never been interested enough in another mans’ junk to take the time or make the effort to stop.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Things are different now and for 3-days during Thanksgiving I’d passed a run-down deserted highway grocery too many times to ward-off the temptation any longer.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Besides, Jeffrey's </span></span></span></span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Gone Junkin’</span></span></span></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> series posted on MetalMeet.com kept running through my mind and that old roadside dump of a building met all the requirements for great discoveries as described by Jeff and the other Masters of Junk on MetalMeet.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So; as I drove through the curves leading up to the old place I would be passing for the last time I was pleasantly surprised to see an old gentleman picking his way through the overgrown patch of weeds in what had been, I suppose, the off-road parking area for the store in its’ more successful years.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The building was covered with those imported vines that seem to be taking over the landscape of the SE faster than even the Yankee immigrants.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Ked sue.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I’m sure that’s not spelled correctly but if you’ve ever seen this stuff you will remember it even if I can’t spell it.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The leaves were brown now, stunted by the season's first frosts in the mountains of North Carolina.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The vines and the few remaining leaves nearly blocked the building from view and had it not been for the two old Ford truck carcasses resting near the highway I probably wouldn’t have given the place a second glance.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It was junky.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Real junky and the store appeared to be locked in time, somewhere between old and real old, but I knew I had to stop.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Seeing that old gent made the decision easier than it might have been.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As I said, stopping was quite out-of-character for me and my slowing down followed by a quick turn directly into the weed patch caught my wife by surprise.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Before she could formulate her question, I was in a conversation with the old guy.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Not being experienced at this sort of thing and without saying even hello first, I got straight to the point. “Got any other old cars around the place?”.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Pretty impolite on my part but I guess you have to understand that I was just learning and hadn’t practiced the Gone-Junkin’ routine, not even once before.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Yep… got those two ’49 Ford pickups and that black Cadillac and the Chevelle behind it”.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Mind if I take a look?”, I asked as I got out of the car.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Nope”, he said and slowly stepped in the direction of the vehicles.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">He was obviously suffering from some medical problem, looked like he had had a stroke …. left hand and left leg weren’t able to function fully.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Be careful, don’t trip on those weeds”, I said as we walked closer to the old trucks.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Did you say they were both ‘49’s”?</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Yep, that one missed the corner and killed the guy when he hit the tree that was there”.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“He just left the truck here…?”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“He couldn’t take it with him, I guess”, the old man said with a slight smile that in addition to a sense of humor exposed an obvious life-long lack of dental hygiene.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We both laughed at his comment.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">After wading through a thick mass of sticker bushes that seemed to want to protect the old truck from anyone (me) wanting to get near, I was able to see that it was all there; including the V8 engine of some denomination and some rock hard tires that rested flat on the ground.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Major surface rust, due to a lack of annual waxing but solid, nonetheless.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As I went around the truck pulling weeds in great bundles from the cab and the box, he said, “Was going to take the parts from both trucks to make one that run”.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Never got to it ‘cause my hand stopped workin'”.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Yah, that’d be a problem without the use of your hand”, I said as I headed back through the thorns toward the second truck.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This one was in a lot worse shape than the first.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">One of the fenders was bent over the already empty engine compartment but the box looked intact and the hood, lying on the ground near by, looked to be in good shape, as well.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Have you thought of selling the trucks”, I asked.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Ya, I’d sell ‘em…”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“How much you want?”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Well, I guess ‘bout thousand”, he said and turned back slowly in the direction we had come.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“What’s in that old building there?”, I asked, pointing at a metal shed that had been hidden from view earlier.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“I got an old Cadillac in there but it’s not for sale”.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“An old Cadillac, what year is it?”, I asked.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“’59”, he said.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“What kind of Cadillac is it?”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“It’s a goodin”.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“A good one eh, but it’s not for sale?”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Nope, not for sale.”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I asked if we could get into the building to take a look and he said sure but emphasized, once again, that the Cadillac was not for sale. Keep in mind that this guy was suffering from an apparent stroke and although it would be difficult to guess his age I’d be surprised if he hadn’t celebrated at least 10-15 more birthdays than I have while still believing that what he had hidden in that old shed would be taking him to Sunday meetings before long.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We walked up to the shed and I helped him lift the plank inside the twin doors unlocking each enough for us to squeeze through the opening.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Inside I found not just a Cadillac but a monster Cadillac covered with dust but in what appeared to be perfect condition.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A quick brush of the dust from one of the classic fins exposed the polished black paint surface of a beautiful, extremely long ’59 Cadillac.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A walk along side revealed an impressive funeral procession limousine…. Not a Hurst but a limo, the type that usually transports the family to the cemetery.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“A guy offered me $12,000 for it once but I didn’t take it”, he said.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Why not?”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Didn’t want to sell it.”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Which to me sounded like a reasonable answer and since I had no need for such a vehicle I didn’t press the issue any further.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It had been a bright and beautiful Thanksgiving weekend during each of the three days we spent in the mountains and that Saturday was no exception.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Walking from the bright sunlight into that old tin shed played havoc with my eyes for a while.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Seeing the big beautiful Cadillac kept my attention until my eyes became accustomed to the relative darkness of the room.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Once I could see more clearly and I stopped stumbling over items piled on the dirt floor I looked up and nearly yelled out, “What’s that?!”</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Model T”, he said just as matter of fact as anyone can imagine.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Model T?”, I said.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Yep, got everything on it in good shape, engine and all…. had to stop working on it when my hand went bad.”</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Sure enough there was a stripped down, full-bodied model T that looked like it was nearly ready for the paint booth!</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">By this time, I was nearly going out of my mind.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My first journey into the world of Gone-Junkin' had developed into a real experience and it had only taken about 15-minutes out of our planned 3-hours travel back to Winston-Salem.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What an experience!</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I hadn’t bought anything but that didn’t matter the experience was worth it with surprises that seemed to turn-up following each new question I asked.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The answers I had received and the sights I saw that afternoon kept my mind active during the drive home and beyond.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I think I’ll do that again.</span></span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yep, the next time I’m motoring down an old country highway and see some junk along the way I’m going to stop.</span></span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yes indeed, I’m going to do some serious Gone-Junkin’ activities in the years to come.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px;">Dick Bear</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">Footnote to this entry:</span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"> On a recent trip past this,my first Gone Junkin' experience, I found that the building that housed the Cadillac and the model T had been completely destroyed by fire. A quick walk through the rubble revealed no trace of either vehicle.</span></span></span></span></span></p></span>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-44661166262776277012009-03-11T04:00:00.000-07:002009-03-11T05:08:42.725-07:00Wipe That Smile Off Your Face, Sir!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjVZjbmiGhpZurUT2PegdcQ_qHTe8rz5wkRTtuxkDTD-lL9K1dOYvYb7NXC0QjneEJkP_klfYdCIymOU0HL1033M99i4017DbxQxqAnlJKVpbilLF1yZRR5l4dxAbcFNsMHQQhFVa3M0/s1600-h/Walnut+Cove+Cop.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjVZjbmiGhpZurUT2PegdcQ_qHTe8rz5wkRTtuxkDTD-lL9K1dOYvYb7NXC0QjneEJkP_klfYdCIymOU0HL1033M99i4017DbxQxqAnlJKVpbilLF1yZRR5l4dxAbcFNsMHQQhFVa3M0/s320/Walnut+Cove+Cop.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311897691350517202" /></a><br />Wipe that smile off your face is no doubt what some uniformed officer will be saying to me sometime but for now I'm all smiles.<div><br /></div><div>"I looked down the road and saw you coming. You jumped from 35 mph to nearly 70 on my scope in just a second or two but I couldn't tell if there were two motorcycles or what it was at first. When we passed I called Dispatch and told them I had "one" but I don't think I'll be able to catch it", the Walnut Cove officer reported to us after he asked for my license and registration.</div><div><br /></div><div>Moments later he returned to the McBearen where I had been waiting and began by saying, "This is a warning ...". Those first few words from his mouth brought a smile to my face that lasted long enough to be recorded in the attached photo Chris Downey shot of the encounter. Earlier that day I had stopped to say hello to Hunter Willard who had graciously painted the McBearen the first time. He introduced me to his friend Chris D. who was visiting him from Durham and suggested that I take Chris for a ride. Chris and I were returning to Hunter's shop when I (totally out of character and completely irresponsibly) accelerated out of Walnut Cove's 35 mph speed zone to [a bit] more than the 55 mph limit of the open highway ahead. </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess the kind officer was suffering from the same illness we all were experiencing that day ... Spring Fever; brought on by clear sunny skies and a temperature in the mid 70's. </div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-27467496327086112792009-03-09T04:55:00.000-07:002009-03-09T08:12:22.781-07:00600 Mile Day Trip in W. VirginiaLess than 7-days after the previously posted snow storm the weather has broken providing sunny skies and temperatures into the 70's. Being the first sustained period of ideal driving weather I decided to take the day trip up into WV to explore the worlds most perfect and most abundant mountain roads in the eastern part of the US.<div><br /></div><div>I woke Sunday morning and opened Google Earth to map out my trip from Winston-Salem heading north up highway 8 past the Blue Ridge Parkway in search of a particular stretch of curves that parallels the New River in the vicinity of Deep Water, WV. My first stop was for breakfast at Toggles Gap and great little restaurant at the entrance of the Blue Ridge Parkway on highway 8. That is a "must stop" for me and should be for anyone who finds themselves anywhere near the place on an outing. Don't stop without trying the chocolate pie!</div><div><br /></div><div>After finishing my breakfast of eggs, country ham and a huge pancake I went out to strap into the McBearen for the rest of the day's travels. There were a couple of guys who had arrived the restaurant on motorcycles taking pictures of the car and in general scoping it out from top to bottom. Both were instructors at Virginia Tech in the Product Design Department so we had a lot to talk about. Seldom does the McB make a stop for gas or anything else without prompting conversations with others interested in knowing more about the car and today it looked like that would not be an exception to the rule. We had a great discussion, exchanges cards and I bucked into the car for parts unknown.</div><div><br /></div><div>My briefly prepare directions included only highway numbers and (unfortunately) just a few small town names like Raines Creek, Lookout and others that turned out to be very easy to miss because, as I discovered, they were simply unincorporated wide spots in the road. The result was I never found the section of road I set-out to find but the driving experience was so wonderful it didn't matter. For some reason I locked onto highway 219 north and never gained consciousness until hours later. When I finally stopped to establish exactly where I was none of the gas stations had maps and I had to rely on verbal explanations to place my whereabouts within the state. At the farthest point in my travels from Winston I was told that Pittsburgh, PA was 100-miles to the northeast and Charleston was 100-miles to the southwest. Interestingly enough the road I was originally searching for was suppose to be a short distance southeast of Charleston so you can see that the intrigue of route 219 was enough to get me off-course by over a hundred miles and 180- degrees!</div><div><br /></div><div>ThIs great day of aimless travels reminded me of the weekends my roommate and I would spend while a student at Fullerton Jr. College in California long ago in the mid-sixties.. Neither of us had a car and so for entertainment we'd stand on opposite sides of Harbor Boulevard hitch-hiking. The first one of us to get a ride was quickly joined by the other and we'd begin 2-days of traveling throughout the state going to wherever that person's transportation would take us. When we'd reach the end of a ride we'd do the same thing again until Sunday evening when we'd be pressed to get home for classes on Monday morning. It was a great way to see the country and we met several interesting people along the way. That was in a less violent age and although exciting back then I'd be fearful of doing the same thing today.</div><div><br /></div><div>Finding myself a 100-miles from no where in upstate WV required some planning on my part if I wanted to get back home at a reasonable time that evening. I decided to head for the nearest interstate for the drive to Charleston. It turned out that I-79 was just 30-miles east of my location so I headed in that direction. Traveling on the interstate toward Charleston was boring compared to the mountain curves so I exited and headed south on route 19 in an attempt to find the illusive section of highway along the New River valley. Without a map and with so many roads to choose from I was able to find the correct road (state-41) but made a critical mistake taking South 41 instead of North 41 and before I realized my error the sun indicated that it was time to head south for home.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I finally rolled into Winston I had been gone for 14-hours a had driven a little more than 600-miles. I'd had another great day of driving the McB though the mountains and neither the car nor I were any worse off than when we began. The first extended day of travel in '09 had provided all the pleasures associated with driving the McBearen. Meeting new people and seeing new views from high on tree covered ridges had once again provided a relaxing and exciting day on the worlds best public roads in the country. I can't wait to do it again but in preparation I'll create a more detailed map so I can experience the New River valley road I've heard so much about.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dick Bear</div><div><br /></div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-21532305964290636672009-03-02T09:01:00.000-08:002009-03-02T10:00:38.431-08:00Just Enough to Remind Me .....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUieg79Ph6UzElGH5X5pbK6ihGXpBSw3t1phh4pw6HWHVIi3CpmfDj6kNBRjxELNo-RAkmn8_RzsVw80b8HQzbXHJiq_xDr7kC4_ctS5oaeih-2QBzYnYTofs7U6q3WOZVNMAjNDm2V7w/s1600-h/IMG_1175.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUieg79Ph6UzElGH5X5pbK6ihGXpBSw3t1phh4pw6HWHVIi3CpmfDj6kNBRjxELNo-RAkmn8_RzsVw80b8HQzbXHJiq_xDr7kC4_ctS5oaeih-2QBzYnYTofs7U6q3WOZVNMAjNDm2V7w/s200/IMG_1175.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308645287231916706" /></a><br />Yep! Nearly every year we get enough of the white stuff to remind me of those cold, snowy winters I hated so much in Iowa. Here however we can enjoy the change and see the beauty because we know that in a day or two it will be gone. Without an army of men driving a motor pool full of road equipment capable of clearing hundreds of miles of roads in a couple hours or more most residence stay in their homes for the duration. <div><br /></div><div>Having emptied the supermarket shelves of milk and bread several days earlier, they are confident that they're prepared to wait-out the "blizzard" conditions in style. Even I have gotten into that routine. <div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtx5YX7yneFQdXkPPigGUPSTzClb1DJOO3FLAfl6oIxdBMiYImnbyzcsrxMk-0wkBpIH5rmtHLDGq0RYTapJVSXYiJNK3B4hCrj9YfaF_RSCYF7VGjmXqEJqnaUkqH0boAtuQ00LBOVGQ/s200/IMG_1184.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308645581892614818" /></div><div><br /></div><div>It's not so much that the roads are not clear but rather because you can be sure that each person you meet has no more than a hand full of days of experience driving in the stuff. It is difficult to dodge all the potentials for disaster along the way. It's simply not worth the risk. Because everyone is in the same boat, employers and shop keepers are very accommodating when freezing rain and snow begins to fly in North Carolina. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, now we've had our winter storm for this season and being the first day of March it won't be long before nearly every bush, tree and plant that grows here will be in bloom. </div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAV6QBbb_IW81EPOxeGft2an15LV-yTQl0LFcPUM7ApCpbBjOlMr14_F_XdpdphxMu1Ef3Enz1cc6Hq5GpLmxS1_MpHP24J3-st9Dd90YGTt061fGFPu9XLGtBaT-EnaF-MEyMP0W4p90/s200/IMG_1186.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308645869889088210" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Springtime in NC is perhaps the most wonderful place in all the country to be and April is only a short 4-weeks of waiting away!</div><div><br /></div><div> </div></div></div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-77514252749991888692009-03-01T15:31:00.000-08:002009-03-01T19:29:31.284-08:00200 mph plus ....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFBdFVpizn2QtBBHrC-JG1wtgNkyahxzsqYOYnwe9h9b0fzcLTt7rkCRDvoFWOv4f08tRxXhtAZQwvb0bNTAygMpmlWT_4eYKDo74c1ANat2rHD4n-evKAjb5GIpinOGk66COse2glSA/s1600-h/IMG_1149.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFBdFVpizn2QtBBHrC-JG1wtgNkyahxzsqYOYnwe9h9b0fzcLTt7rkCRDvoFWOv4f08tRxXhtAZQwvb0bNTAygMpmlWT_4eYKDo74c1ANat2rHD4n-evKAjb5GIpinOGk66COse2glSA/s200/IMG_1149.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308402429442035762" /></a>A young and enthusiastic private campaigner stopped into my shop recently to enquire if I'd be interested in helping him reach a standing mile speed record for his 4-wheel drive Evo during next month's event at the Maxton Mile near Laurenburg, North Carolina. The car he and his engine builder (Buschur Racing) have prepared generates nearly 760 HP from the surprisingly small four cylinder engine. To reach his goal of 200 mph plus, Matt's calculations indicated that it would be necessary to eliminate all possible drag factors. <div><br /><div>To do this Matt proposed enclosing the underside of the car with custom aluminum panels. </div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8U5zZgzR8zmGHqTZwhj8KlpeVFiXXA1w_w7DS2oOi1lOiawawXjAMKb_RL7XIakDcfGaWvV2S6ZboTTQdS0ewVHsFIaRX7Z2cAwkanYvCiIHMA926kxIi07uIYhj7KIhWrDHU_Eai22E/s200/IMG_1163.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308414610863407874" /><div><br /></div><div>In prior runs made on 1/4-mile strips Matt had achieved top speeds in the 150-160 mph range but to propel the vehicle through the remaining 50-mph of this run, the car's ability to slide smoothly through the air would be even more critical. The body of a Mitsubishi Evo is anything but streamlined in shape and the only surface available for modification, while remaining true the Street Classification, was the bottom. Turbulence caused by the air trapped beneath the car is compounded by the exposed nooks and crannies formed by the underside structures typical of all cars and is no different for the Evo. </div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdH26IJxV8aKHrswfieyPJBb3Ce10sdpr-R4Hx6lDkRF1dQv12Xk_OfhN9HWr85J2Xret7f6KlDdE8a6S4RbraUjHPoLsglR_KzWK3R0ZEwqTJoXU9jvJP8kZ3W48Hec8ljsJSCxcGF0/s200/IMG_1164.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308418581062603362" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Being part of this effort seemed like a interesting side-step from the other activities I had going in the shop so I agreed to do what I could to make the run successful. It was decided that the encasement would include a front splitter to slice the air as it hit the front of the car and a series of rear diffusers to reduce turbulence (drag) as air from the bottom and the top of the car reunite. In addition to these components it was also decided to nearly eliminate the obstacle created by the exhaust pipe by shortening it and encasing it in it's own aerodynamic shroud straight back to an exit point midway in the vehicle's overall length. </div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgafBOf-vXS3rfUhc7mfnd-jvD6P5Kv8clwKMg_dL7b68lr13tSEKQPLq_RmuATk_u5jDl0OGOOu38RmyZzx9EVkiav2OnOIaG-dQG6njF_hRcb5_kwicBqo3S1tzSae2c0aG-GcqZ8YWg/s200/IMG_1168.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308404243817749410" /></div><div><br /></div><div>During the first weekend in April we'll witness the results of our effort as Matt takes to the track. Hopefully he will be successful but if not, I'm sure this will not be the last time he reaches for this or other speed goals in his incredibly exciting Mitsubishi Evo. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-86580531898992008972009-01-21T23:46:00.000-08:002009-01-22T03:49:17.757-08:00The Mabaan... Dick Bear's Custom Build Number TwoWith only the recent damage caused by an up close and personal encounter with the deer to be repainted on the Mcbearen I have started another custom build. My desire to do so is the result of taking the Mcbearen to VIR last spring and finding that although the car (not always the driver) could keep pace with most everyone negotiating the corners the 2.0 liter stock Honda K20A was no match for the bigger units at top speed down those huge straight-a-ways. And even though it is the setting, executing and exiting corners on any closed circuit that is the most exciting and challenging part of road-racing, there is a point at which the desire to be among the others at the end of a straight is important, as well. To accomplish this I had two choices. I could build a track car by gutting an existing vehicle or, I could custom build a track car of my own design. Being a glutton for the work involved I chose the latter and began to build the Mabaan around the first of October. <div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_BiGALwtreR3RFf-QBTJf-_UgC80vYKw2x1FD8f6VJ8k15_PMrDh5D5SPTx_cSHXlfoaEmpxijsAWIyn45F3MHpLz9zU1pTyI92Lxy1PQmQhtqjhAu3YcVbpXufi7VTPR_mST3W4SXpU/s320/mabaan+color+draw.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294066914223795746" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Naturally I wanted this one to be as unique in appear-ance as the McB had been when it first appeared on the streets of Winston-Salem nearly two years ago .... I plan to make the Mabaan a street legal vehicle as well. As I considered several possibilities I settled on the use of a plastic model I had constructed about 20-years ago when I first came to N. Carolina. My older brother had had some involvement with Kenny Burnstein's 1988 0r '89 Indy entry through his association with Kenny's sponsor Planters Peanuts. I suppose that little yellow and white Lola model had been one of many promotional pieces produced by Planters for that years race and because it had never been constructed he gave it to me. Since then it had been sitting around my studio gathering dust and in spite of the fact that it was missing one wheel I decided it would be the perfect point of departure in building my track car.</div><div><br /></div><div>The original Lola was a monocoque so I designed the frame from scratch since I'm not qualified nor wealthy enough to design, construct and test a replica of the monocoque. After several weeks (months) of working out the configuration of the frame I began cutting and welding the structure together with the knowledge that the little rocket will be powered by a Chevy LT1 taken from a Camaro I purchased solely for its engine. When completed sometime this summer, the reduced weight and increased horse power of the Mabaan over that of the McBearen should provide some exciting track days in the region. Hopefully I'll not have to waive too many past on those long straights!</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm0ShnHg043MZgN_bfGqQlHjEuA245nNwu5el1_8HmllQSZhqqcM-d20jR5A1uTHyue_3Up_YndD-B7zXKNhheJKk0CoIGws0Mznm9rh4lRt-op2RyKPj-y9RA1AzbAaK_YHJ6EqPs1yo/s320/IMG_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294055662886622850" /><div>Just like the McBearen, the Mabaan will feature hand shaped aluminum body panels fitted over a conventionally constructed steel frame. And although I am trying to stay faithful to the general outward appearance of the Lola, there is no attempt on my part to create a replica of it. The frame consists primarily of 1" x 1" square 16 gage steel tube and I anticipate the final weight (without driver) to be between 1,250 and 1,350 pounds. It will have a wheel base of 116" long x 70" wide with an over all length of 155" including the rear wing.</div><div><br /></div><div>The following photographs are posted in the order they were taken. Since no explanations are necessary for the making (shaping and fitting) of panels the pics speak for themselves. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdZnJcmiXSE1fZSLQJpaLqZcIQhmV3FJvA6N1VfoCRfPNCDSQJkBSnLCIpIo_l1UcdS9JWk8so2iTRdJt7SYtLsV-DnNUD1VZ5jrGX4gaLJmcTFj0k2beALNJnzoncS9AYqnfKRBzcaY/s320/IMG_26.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294060479276183202" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwnHdrf9cReIN3mI4usF4Xm7D6q3KQXnFFvcYCAlMTuEZ-Kyc5m-FogtTxObnf7CzM5r2NVmyeMNXm4zU6sPaN2MhE0CzHepPwwO1INHbnj_-eIvJ1XRtF6pQveDUcvdjLgDT_smYHCc/s320/IMG_33.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294060481177046674" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uImBVP7X0yGcF1KMKPyngFKbuoosl3jUa7STy09QVrOV3QDelfwhxg8hCpfs3nZaOxjqXs1lP9BBoXpIALMm_AlnhNvCWAMBEFpGRyGz4eGub9qoTSJjfc1waZsdzgOJEIEKDIo_04Y/s320/IMG_39.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294060492002708034" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUD0SMICsR4iof1y-cmkTsMnzPx3ajYHQVW8Z8Y61SiYX87K2MAkwgQfxP5ZO0OvP1OyfGCt8tkw32bzH45b8ajBwDUV85252RMF4Jg180ypnMK8y3mu0WR-nX9kPsmoSgj53IH4bPEkA/s320/IMG_38.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294060483088913522" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfT15G6z8zvifeYcRz5UYiAm6bAUUrJOHADwEYpFFbpLR-YFM8Viam43N64s3vbIzOzjGpJEXYJguMG48UaMaJ4NpRMfnE2ZOTbLXfbRwMmvl_6_QhoxC-lZ_vuwFxNd6yFvCF9kHGl50/s320/IMG_49.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294063463587620226" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn2banB_9isqFJYfKpERbMWnUkoKXUQXNbbsSs5i3fGcmnVjaLge3bcZzHd2-dx0QDPzDZwzphW4OiooKjLPdRy3ogjiYHdbs0T_Gg4zaaXXgckJR2__arr_6ThiPXH1XFZ6iI_fPxAVA/s320/IMG_42.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294063461856325186" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sure a question or two has crossed your mind regarding the name; Mabaan. Names are picked sometimes for strange reasons. Many are chosen because they relate in some way to the item being christened and others have no connection at all. Mabaan falls into that last category .... it doesn't relate to cars, racing, speed or anything like that. It is the name of a tribe in Sudan with which my aunt and uncle (and four cousins) lived for many years and I've been fascinated by the name since I was very young. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mabaan!</div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-1929423746936114182009-01-21T07:19:00.000-08:002009-01-23T11:42:46.268-08:00The Robots Are Comin'I just received a video from Rhet (my son) who, after graduating from Art Center, has carved himself an impressive professional career as a DP (director of Photography) with several acclaimed music videos, commercials and his most recent achievement - DP for the Sarah Silverman TV series - an original approach to an otherwise lack-luster stream of automobile commercials. <div><br /></div><div>Rhet explained that this project started out as a "just for fun experiment" between himself and an associate to demonstrate the creative results achievable using "things around the house". The 30-second blurb was shot using a series of home-made camera booms mounted to Rhet's daily driver, a personal camera and edited / mixed on his personal computer. The "studio" was an empty parking ramp somewhere near his home in S. Calif. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://vid.rhetbear.com/Prius.cfm">Click here to see the video.</a></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 338px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJ_0j7vu2Zl24LSDTYgec83N1-l7KA2_uuwEQCWZdcN3_V7i0AZCFKzIRR5gQ4iVyc_eiz3ZdTfn157IataETK5bitJDgdFs5D1HlnB1r4Hge10JFfyw1V99D_qLstAFRkXx-6bWLyUHF/s400/Toyota-Layout.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294576749402269426" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>If you are interested in other videos shot by Rhet check them out at: <a href="http://www.rhetbear.com/">www.rhetbear.com</a><br /></div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-25790584641501234942009-01-17T08:45:00.000-08:002009-01-17T09:43:11.557-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDrbNohFt-9Eeim7vcr_gqmFPBwgHIZswlIRlw0QkrZ5bKc1tTLDNCXo8L1lLqUTAQDjSz6sFUakrcrMNlPmd45k3PiVZ_AuJ0u3Z8U1KW1yygywZ5HvkMbnnIW5KQFDGtMT7L5DLU2U/s1600-h/Bob+Felton.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDrbNohFt-9Eeim7vcr_gqmFPBwgHIZswlIRlw0QkrZ5bKc1tTLDNCXo8L1lLqUTAQDjSz6sFUakrcrMNlPmd45k3PiVZ_AuJ0u3Z8U1KW1yygywZ5HvkMbnnIW5KQFDGtMT7L5DLU2U/s200/Bob+Felton.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292319543385083058" /></a><br />I just received word that Bob Felton passed early yesterday morning. Our thoughts go out to the David Whitlock family during this time. Especially to the girls who will miss their cantankerous but always faithful father and grandfather. Bob was a good friend and I was fortunate to spend time with him when he visited us for a couple months in 2002. I had just purchased a lathe and mill but knew nothing about operating either of them. I invited Bob to come-on-down from Canada to teach me the basics. He agreed to come, after some persuasion, and we had a great time working in the shop together.<div><br /></div><div>I gave Bob a tooling catalogue and told him to order the items we needed for the two pieces of equipment. I had to keep an eye on him because his initial instinct was to choose the cheapest item instead of the one that would be the most appropriate in-spite of a few dollars difference in cost. Once we had the tooling we needed Bob made the machines sing a pleasant tune as he created several parts for the Hum-Bee and other bits and pieces for the shop. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the attached photo Bob is working on what I consider to be my first project involving metal shaping done before I became involved with MetalMeet.com.</div><div><br /></div><div>We'll all miss Bob but are grateful to have the memories of him to visit during his absence. </div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-17984492144140489562009-01-16T17:13:00.000-08:002009-01-16T18:22:54.594-08:00The Kenyans Are Coming! The Kenyans Are Coming ...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8qFOdOSmncUHRvPbKTHj_jQdEuNMg6R118-vqYJLQ7K7vnKUkro7zlS0Q7-5ms4uUssr9HRDXECKz-iwKqeoD1iyQNRVKGQxNBuzl4x1sTjr7hS8amdanMGhAAUoN87zs4ASFc6oZBM/s1600-h/ATT75385.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8qFOdOSmncUHRvPbKTHj_jQdEuNMg6R118-vqYJLQ7K7vnKUkro7zlS0Q7-5ms4uUssr9HRDXECKz-iwKqeoD1iyQNRVKGQxNBuzl4x1sTjr7hS8amdanMGhAAUoN87zs4ASFc6oZBM/s320/ATT75385.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292078704640363506" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It seems that once the word got out that President Elect Obama and the new First Lady were hoping to have Mrs. Obama's mother share the White House with them, many residence of Obama's paternal homeland believed that the hospitality he was demonstrating toward his mother-in-law might also be offered to them, if only they could get to DC to accept. When promoter Amal Schummad learned of the Kenyan's predicament his instincts led him to immediately create a somewhat organized desert exodus for the wanna-bee White House occupants. Their arrival in Washington DC is expected to coincide with Tuesday's inauguration festivities. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">There has been no word from the Office of the President Elect on how they plan to select or if any selection will take place, but the immigrant's vehicle parked on the front lawn promises to be interesting. From the looks of it no one should be without bedding once they get settled in. When asked what arrangements had been made for the group once they arrive in Washington DC, Schummad made it clear that his responsibility was only to get the group to the capital city. What happens to them after that is of no concern to him.</span></div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-88230291689521722692009-01-12T10:22:00.000-08:002009-01-12T11:29:01.787-08:00That's bad but you should have seen the deer<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrecHHT17T8egkaHvwPjWVQtyOs_aXzHvMkzlHzcmC4Xazu07nZGEcR4SzV54ZbrVbDJN3jn5nNAOq9dqe6bqnrapiHEYSf2jD_GwZF6FupN_5-_q2VwDdTMwCF8YOYCgNs2NZbVhb8c/s320/IMG_0744.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290479701169573266" /><br /></div><div><br /></div>I saw the deer but a bit too late!<div><br /></div><div>I saw it as it winged it's way above me and the <div>rest of the McBearen just a few weeks ago. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV3qgW3f99_6TDqRBd3HovyFdeoimYu22hZFcO4Kzehn8CkfNf4LQJjGXfKVhM_Ky3l2ZhgIAv9HIVbm2KcVyJpDRleTIldi07fBQn764tPlMEYqFRxbnFOIvHhFvpCCoh5zZouTQUcpo/s320/IMG_0746.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290482195093466914" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I hobbled to a friends house and together we beat the aluminum</div><div>out enough for me to get home.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjslIaU5tSlAP2b_qYQymb0lYGF4zTtlQBg8LN71yipSZp4ZmXPkckydVSl_TEBbWDwJV0CBVjRoE5rCjkpeSAbdP9ydZANbHKtJ8gFdb_alFkA0jLb3E13je5MA_o27y_b4bunF9MXas0/s320/IMG_0753.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290484980846657170" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The repair is nearly completed. No new metal added ... just a lot</div><div>of beatin' and bangin', dolly slapping, two new driving lights, </div><div>two headlights and paint is next.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866463785467113327.post-50844183451323471762009-01-08T21:04:00.000-08:002009-01-21T08:45:26.197-08:00A short story …. Winston-Salem to Cedar Rapids, Iowa in the McBEAREN<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Last October, my desire to take a cross-country trip in the McBearen grew too strong to ignore it any longer.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After one full year of being on the road the bright McLaren orange vehicle that I had nursed to life from a stack of square steel tubes and a few 4 x 8 sheets of aluminum was ready for the ultimate test.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It had previously proven itself at VIR and on roads in and around Winston-Salem but I had to find out if it was ready for the final exam … 800-miles to Cedar Rapids, Iowa and 800 miles back home.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the beginning extended day trips had been very important in the McB’s development.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Nearly every trip exposed something and although most issues were of a minor nature they had all helped to make the McBearen become a reliable little machine and I was confident that things would go well if I’d just pack-up and went. The soggy, rain drenched Atlanta jaunt proved that both the car and the driver could survive 7-hours of nearly constant down pour and except for one inconvenience (being completely soaked) on that outing we kept “splashing” along I-85 until blue skies and sunshin<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e caused the highway to steam for the last 20 miles into that great city.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That trip taught me more about what was needed to accommodate the driver than anyth<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ing about the car.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Although my legs stayed dry my <span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">upper body and backside were really, really wet.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Subsequent trips to Knoxville, Charleston, WV and Blacksburg, VA had all served to boost my confidence, so now it was time for the ultimate test in reliability.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Beyond the normal concerns relating to reliability on the road, I also wondered how the different law enforcement groups would react to having the McBearen suddenly appear in their domain.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If, as was the case in Atlanta, I was stopped out of curiosity, I could live with that.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Georgia trooper turned his blue lights on me because he wanted to know more about the vehicle. It turned out that he was an inquisitive motor head and he was satisfied with my ans<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">wers to a few technical questions he posed before turning me lose.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Our impromptu conversation ended in a brief photo session on the shoulder of I-85.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Making friends of complete strangers has become an integral part of the McBearen experien<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ce.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A part I enjoy.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If, on the other hand, I were stopped repeatedly and forced into a legal defense mode by local constables that could become <span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">irritating.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Worst yet would be an encounter with someone having no appreciation for things out-of-the-ordinary. I knew everything was i<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">n-order based on North Carolina law but I was equally confident that there were areas in which I didn’t conform to another states’ law.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Nothing serious … but not conforming completely might be cause for an over zealous protector to retard progress, or cause me to terminate my plans all together.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I didn’t have unlimited time to dedicate to this excursion so I had decided that if I ran into such a person I would rent a U-Haul and return home without making a scene.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9MwScMaSLGtM8NP8orOZNCzbGQGjUaSnnUaakZEPFTUIj50L6Iou6zTJE3UfSzeNe1sUK5z9pUNMlp0YRicMrWHG2kf3G0GGFGtDeicuWuncxi43l9cYakyZHAIPjTZLk-WxC4g08mwU/s200/heater+box:Headlights+up.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290444236200517602" /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Except for the years I spent in the Army <span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and university I had lived in Iowa for 48-years and was keenly aware of the ever changing weather patterns associated with mid-October.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One day you’d swear it was summer only to wake the next morning confronted with a 30-40 or more degree drop in temperature. I knew I had to be prepared for the possibility of cold weather although “prepared” in this case i<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">s a relative term because there is no way a 2-seat, open cockpit vehicle could ever be “prepared” for the worst conditions I had seen living in that state.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Having already experienced the McB in 30-degree weather in North Carolina I knew that my feet were the first to be affected by the cold so a couple of days prior to leaving I devised a system to capture a portion of the heat from the radiator and direct it toward my feet.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It is nothing too sophisticated … no fan, no on/off switch and no thermo-control dial. Nothing that involved. I simply folded up a 3-sided pan of aluminum and attached it to the backside of the radiator. Using a scrap piece of flex-hose I connected the pan to the driver’s side leg cavity and whalla … some heat!</span></span></span></span></span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJbXXvxdwf5FzLLCtOOsTuH0JMZwNifatPC94P8zTODJUb0DXmQV4akt8E6aQFi_1d1Wx7XqViFkcBHF3xcD81ypkqw_473ISlqK9P0tzYThwCi6rjvESuvjRCjuvvdb2Y26IYySrc4qQ/s200/front+view+Headlights.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290443549146064466" /><span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The last prepara</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">tory item I addressed was to increase the headlight illumination factor without detracting from the McLaren/esque) appearance of the McBearen when the lights aren’t needed.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">To do this I attached a pair of hi-beam fixtures to a rack I mounted behind the front/center body panel.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The lamps are swung into position manually and are locked up or down using a simple thumbscrew. They are wired to the high beam switch and nest out of sight beneath the radiator housing when not in use. </span></span><!--EndFragment--><span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><!--StartFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">To keep my clothes dry I purchased three plastic waterproof “baggies”… the type favored by kayak enthusiasts. These are great containers for kee<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ping things dry.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The only downside is that the cloths packed in them become hyper-wrinkled from being stuffed into the bags so tightly.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It is amazing how much you can jam into o<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ne of these 2-gallon “baggies” especially if you roll each item and mash them down!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Through no genius or pre-planning on my part these cylindrical plastic containers fit perfectly into the side-pods of the McBearen and having them safely stowed I knew that regardless of how soaked I got while driving, there would be dry cloths a<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">vailable to me at t<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">he end of the day.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dry … but very wrinkled!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The big day finally arrived and as I buckled in I announce (to myself) ready or not, the McBearen was heading out far beyond the relative safety o<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">f friends and available rollback transport vehicles.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The travel route for the first day consisted of h<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ighway 52 North to Fancy Gap, I-77 North to Charleston, WV, I-64 West to Louisville, KY, and then North on I-65 to Indianapolis.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was cool, but not cold.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The weather prediction for the two-day dash to Cedar Rapids called for moderate temperatures with clear skies although it was raining heavily just east of Winston all the way to the coast.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""> <span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The leaves were in full color and the bright sunlight flickering through the trees made the climb up the first mountain ridge toward Fancy Gap particularly beautiful. As we passed under the Blue Ridge Parkway’s stone arch I realized that the long anticipated journey had really begun.</span></span><span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Just writing about it now makes me want to <span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">jump into the McB again to feel the w<span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ind in my face, the sound of the engine and the thrill experienced when my orange creation accelerates confidently through curves <span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">in the road.</span></span><span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unfortunately it’s just too cold today, but it won’t be cold for long!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06s_y4bqE2YCC5bch6fk0CvLQLg8lc2gXkViRIbCBAFBVY30Ic1wNObfcDmtrXjtzLl-hhThzDafVO4VTF6h3Kv0BVCn_z5lKq6z1QwwtD923D-SJwiPAGsN0uacYaVNS7VGUtMHwwg0/s200/Dash.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290441886717381474" /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had decided early on to travel west via the interstate system leaving any secondary highway travel for the return leg. Since this was an endurance test for the vehicle I guessed that if anything failed it would probably fail within the first 400-miles and that any need to be rescued would be made easier from an interstate location than from some back road.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had driven the McB to Charleston, WV earlier in the year so it wasn’t until I passed there that I reached territory unfamiliar to the car. Driving along the West Virginia Turnpike is beautiful in any car but sitting low in the open-air perch of the McB heightened the experiences. For some reason I found myself visualizing what the car looked like from far above the roadway. As the car curved and climbed, slowed and sped forward an accentuated rhythm developed and I thought to myself, “this is really n<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">eat!”</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">An understatement for sure!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I passed through Charleston I was reminded that Iowa’s capital building in Des Moines is an exact replica of West Virginia’s beautiful golden <span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">dome building.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I watched it pass quickly on my left I was reminded of that fact but this time it had more importance because of the destination set for the McBearen.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">From Charleston westward to Louisville the mountain terrain slowly gives way to the rolling hills associated with the Ohio River valley.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">The rolling hills are beautiful but in my opinion nothing matches the vistas of the Appalachians and no state defines that range better than <span class="Apple-style-span" style="">West Virginia. Eastern Kentucky’s abundance of stately farms with palatial homes (not at all reminiscent of Steven Foster’s </span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">My Old Kentucky Home</span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">) most surrounded by <span class="Apple-style-span" style="">thoroughbred horse pastures outlined with brown wooden fences form undulating boarders across the rolling landscape.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">From Lexington to Frankford these beautiful homes and pastures line the road providing evidence of the wealth associated with the horse racing industry in that state. These pastures are nothing like the crammed feedlots of farms further west where the goal is to occupy every available square foot with fattened beast<span class="Apple-style-span" style="">s destined for backyard grills or franchised hamburger shops around the world.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Here it seems that there is an attempt to limit the number of animals to no more than two per 1,000 acres.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ESnkuP9Xd9sSpBYwGNRqaoDxb65CDOXlhbRxOcxHm7Gz3mC9tuIis5sZUqIXttCgfBG12Rk5ndmofOIxgE05ycEHyYwjws5VfSDxR8mbDfUp-PzDBA7DWSM_XBc4phVPzjAhJSd5ifg/s200/bridge.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290440477857999314" /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I planned to make it to Indianapolis on the first day and everything was going according to plan.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Due to the space limitation on board the McB I had to hand fabricate the twin gas tanks for the car and neither of them had a fuel level gage built in.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So my odometer doubled <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">as my fuel gage.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Throughout the months leading up to this trip I had established the range and knew I could safely go 200-miles on full tanks.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Every time I filled-up I made a mental note of the mileage and upon reaching that mileage limit I’d stop to fill up.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This system worked well except for the few times I wasn’t able to drive for an extended period of <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">time causing me to forget the target mileage for the next fill up.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On this trip I was confident that I could remember each of the mileage segments.</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At least I thought so!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Reaching Louisville in late afternoon I exited I-64 and headed north crossing the Ohio River over the unique steel bridge into Indiana on I-65.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had traveled approximately 150-miles north of Winston and since it was October I knew darkness would come sooner here than at home.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Shortly after entering Indiana the sun began to fade from the sky so I stopped to adjust the new driving lights for the evening.<br /></span></span></p><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjtflbziPM9xVQWpXKNjt9ti0wapnwlAGFza4CE4S2rU0KsubFlW5PWJmnBUFoL_7bqIbVXAxT-ngzE96hfl3AMhzKhVmNxkMr0JCzYoi8tmEtbS1px34YCdo-c07eoK7NiZeQaVw_pM/s200/Night+truck.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290428788933930114" /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was completely dark by the time I reached the motel.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The new lights worked well and I was happy I had taken the time to mount them before leaving.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was much better driving with that added light and I found myself squinting a bit when those large green overhead signs were lighted so brightly from the new fixtures.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’m confident that the other drivers on the road appreciated being able to see the McB better, as well.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It didn’t take much time to unpack the car and get it bedded down for the night.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The cockpit cover worked well <span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and although it does little to protect the car from someone messing around it does present an obvious barrier suggesting that this is off limits.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And it protects the interior from rain and other weather.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Getting wet while driving isn’t pleasant but having to sit down and buckle myself into an already wet seat would be doubly miserabl<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With the cockpit cover that prospect isn’t a factor unless it happens to be pouring while I’m getting ready to go.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In that case I’d be making the choice whether to leave right then or not.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwkwDcRek98ASZPTLYmCYTgipu2LqkB1r6WjOWUyuzdKvx3bqLvJv57y2n3wBVFnGQ6q6Fb_7eFtU9e3-1N3_9S84qaS_Fj-aOC5yfLXSkcJbCgSLqzzCOq-ETXkMuddKcqN9zR5g_DQ/s200/Bedded+down.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290438429082311106" /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With the McBear<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">en safely parked in front of my room and an entire evening with nothing to do but watch TV, an activity I despise and have no problem refraining from while at home, I sat with the notepad I had packed specifically f<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">or making notes about issues that may have come up during the day.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Interestingly, there was nothing to write about!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The car had performed during <span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">9-hours of constant motion at speed limit speeds without a single hitch and it appeared that with a simple turn of the key it was ready to do the same tomorrow.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Fact is, as I stood wasting some tim<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e on the balcony I seriously considered re-packing and driving off without spending the night.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had promised Jani that I would stop for the night so although I had the thought of leaving I knew I wouldn’t.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My body wasn’t fatigued in any way. It may be hard for some to believe but the seat and smoothness of the ride is better than many productions cars I have ridden in.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Consequently m</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">y stay in Indianapolis was not for recuperation purposes but rather a function of scheduling because both the car and the driver were ready and able to continue on indefinitely.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Indianapolis was th<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e first legs’ goal because from there I could decide how the second days’ travel would develop.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Over the last 8-9 years a cyber friendship had developed with one of my equipment suppliers who lives in Chicago.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Although we had never met he had taken a special interest in the building process of the McBearen and I thought once I got to Indianapolis I’d contact him to see if it would be convenient for me stop by.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">From Indianapolis it would be an easy jog further north on I-65 into Chicago.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After meeting with Jim I could take I-80 west toward the Quad Cities and the short 80-miles or so furth<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">er to CR.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I awoke I was pleased to find that the weather forecasters had predicted correctly …. There were blue skies as far as I could see and better than that, no one had bothered the McB during the night.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I packed everything into the car and headed-out to find someplace to eat.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">During breakfast I called Jim in Chicago but for reasons beyond our control meeting him was not going to be possible.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That was disappointing but there were still many miles to go.</span></span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNimY_EXItLljRx41_WOXbFdxaR9xIWEEAbgxK1WU2VSFFvMbFisUCcY6ffmEiXcYEIJkJ01NATAUxqPBtWGQsPr1bNZDSB3x35latPzF-tCyImHukfbZcTRflJZmuZIQxAaGJ5r8DHc/s200/Indy+gate.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290420230970792114" /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Speedway was only 2-miles from where I had breakfast.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I decided it would be nice to get a picture of the McBearen at the front gate. When I got there I could hear someone testing inside but beyond the sound of the car nothing could be seen.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There is nothing as magical as visiting large sports facilities across the country … especially when they aren’t hosting an event.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I don’t know the reason why but baseball and football stadiums, large (and even small) racetracks are especially interesting to me when there is no one around.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Perhaps it is the fact that I can imagine the crowds and hear the sounds that surround the steel, brick and concrete that make-up the otherwise cold complexes. </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Perhaps I’m impressed by huge, cold and hard structures that for a relatively few hours each year are able to become so alive.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Whatever it is, I’ve always enjoyed being around them, especially when they are empty.</span></span></p><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1eh8jAGZedwT5I6e-nJoB4yyLtEAEYarsRgpTpJ3sBH314nnLnxA1jB9_kcsxTevxHqkyBRFfv-0gDhMZUON0B6fucQeBoqtSSTG4nnB15hR-3ukFSsKAvcj5yyIvxB6KRqTbeQhc0UY/s200/big+sky.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290421663853976322" /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Following the fan photo at the gate I headed west out of Indianapolis on I-74.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If you have traveled the highways of the Midwest you’ll recognize the lack of visual intrigue associated with the landscape.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Except for a few hills near river channels the topography is flat <span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and that flatness stretches for miles and miles</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">… and miles!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’ve often wondered why Montana is called the big sky state when every state in the Midwest can claim as much sky as any other.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Standing in one spot the horizon appears to be a mere 36-inches above your feet in all directions!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Land value there isn’t measured in picturesque views but rather in production yields per acre.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Driving from Indianapolis to the Mississippi River I suggest that if you’ve seen 10-miles of roadway you’ve seen everything you’ll see in the next 200 miles and from the Mississippi on it’s the same for the next 500-miles.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I admit it does have it’s own beauty <span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">but my point is that that beauty can be easily experience within the first 10-miles.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After that, the big sky has a tendency to become boring except for the rest areas, all of <span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">which are carved from perhaps the one interesting topographical feature in each 40- 60 mile stretch of highway.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That may not be completely fair however the photo shown is typical; you be the judge.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On this day out, I was destined to become very familiar with the rest areas and as things turned-out later that was good!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Without going into detail, I have a chronic disruptive sleep disorder and depending on the day its’ effect can be frustrating at best and down right frightening at its’ worst.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unfortunately this was one of those potentially frightening days.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">To keep from falling asleep I stopped at nearly every rest area in Indiana and Illinois to take a walk or do anything to stay awake.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I began to wander if I’d ever make it to C<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">edar Rapids by nightfall but in spite of the schedule I had no choice but to stop.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At each of thes<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e stops I experienced the same interest in the car, as has always been the case from the first day I began driving it.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">People want to see it.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They have questions or they want to have their pictures taken next to it. If not that, at least a picture of it by itself.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Kids like to sit in it and I’ve most often accommodated these wishes if at all possible.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I enjoy these opportunities to talk with those who stop to see the car.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> T</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ruck drivers are always interested.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There were times at which the “gathering” around the McBearen looked like a group of visitors to a manufacturing plant bunched around a new piece of equipment on an assembly line with everyone sharing stories, asking questions and taking pictures.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was so strange to see it happening in rest areas parking lots and interesting to see it happen repeatedly throughout the day.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was as though the travelers were taking a break to visit an auto show but there was only one car at the show and the show place was happening literally in the middle of nowhere.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Then an even st<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ranger thing became apparent. As I mentioned I was stopping at the rest areas to word-off my sleepiness but I found that there were others, more than I would have ever imagined, doing the same thing.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I really don’t know why but I’d see individuals and whole families from earlier stops. The numbers of these rest stop repeaters numbered far beyond what could be explained away as a coincidence.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It got so repetitious that we’d actually greet each other like old friends each time our paths crossed.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There seems to be an underworld of rest area traveling groupies that I had no previous knowledge of and I’ve traveled a lot. I’m still confused about that situation.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I-74 makes a long turn to the north swinging around the southwest side of Galesburg, IL and I was traveling with a group of cars that had been together for several miles.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We had all been driving the same speed which was admittedly pushing the limit but not by much.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As the highway settled into its’ final northern direction I looked in my mirrors and saw a dark colored car with blue lights flashing behind me.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">All my “traveling partners” had mysteriously disappeared and the McLaren orange of the McBearen suddenly stood out in the crowd.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> There was no doubt that t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">hose lights were directed toward me!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I thought to myself, “5-mph over the posted limit, surely not?” , as I slowed, pulled onto the shoulder and stopped.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’ve been stopped one or two times before in my life but I’ve never been asked to provide the items this officer asked me to produce.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In fact had I been driving any of my other vehicles I wouldn’t have been able to produce all of the documents he wanted to see then either.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He asked to see my driver’s license, my registration and my vehicle’s INSURANCE VERIFICATION card.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I got out of my belts to searched for the papers I keep packed in a waterproof pouch deep in the driver’s side pod I thought damn, “I’m going to jail for sure”!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I knew I didn’t have an insurance card with me. I had insurance but the card he wanted was, I was sure, part <span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">of a “collection” of cards on my desk at home.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Surprise, surprise, surprise … tucked in with the registration was an insurance card albeit an outdated one.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">How and why it was there I haven’t a clue but thank goodness it was.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When the officer returned to my car he explained that I had been speeding… going 70 in a 60 mph zone.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That turned out to be the bad news.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The good news was he was giving me a warning rather than a ticket.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Being a normal law abiding citizen and being pulled over by a trooper for speeding did cause me some anxiety even without being obligated for the cost of a ticket. But, I shook it off pretty quickly and forgot about it. I also forgot that at the time he stopped me I had been on the lookout for a place to stop for gas.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It wasn’t until I felt the engine miss a beat that I remembered.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I felt the missed beat of the engine I was in the left lane passing a tractor-trailer. I slowed to pull behind the truck where, to my surprise, I found an entrance to (you guest it)… a rest area. By the time I reached the off-ramp the engine had stopped completely so I coasted in and parked as though nothing was out of order.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That was lucky!</span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But getting some gas was, it appeared, going to be a problem.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I never travel with extra gas and it seems no one else does either.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After about 20-minutes of asking each group that walked passed by if they had any gas I turned to recognize a face from an earlier rest stop.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After greeted each other as respectable rest stop groupies do he asked, what’s up? And I explained my predicament.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His response was to produce 2.5 gallons of gas in a red plastic container from the back of his truck!</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We talked while I poured about half of the gas into my tank.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I thanked him, gave him $10.00 and was on my way.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That sequence of events proved conclusively to me that good things happen in threes: the warning ticket, the rest area entrance, and my rest area groupie, the truck driver. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">By this time it was getting late and although the sun was still in my eyes I knew it would be getting dark before long.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had solved my sleepiness issue to some extent by removing my helmet to let the full impact of the wind hit my face so I settled in for the last 130 miles of the day.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Once I crossed the Mississippi into Iowa things became interesting to me once again.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The names of familiar towns, familiar highway signs and some long established truck stops on I-80 brought back memories of traveling in the past.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There remained only a few miles to go on I-80 before I would exit the interstate to drive north into Tipton.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Half way through that quaint little town I’d make a left onto a county road that passed the fairgrounds where my older brother and I spent Saturday nights working racing events for a local promoter.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Then left on US highway 30 west at Mechanicsville and right again at state highway 13 for about 4-miles before making the last left onto Mt. Vernon Road taking me into Cedar Rapids!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What a great trip! Not a single mechanical issue with the McBearen and I’m pleased that the McB build resulted in a vehicle that interested so many along the way.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I say again, “This is really neat!”</span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7niflTTQQSYSMvBAUYZeLDIcFW009fhZfoFrQ7vfR8dHhlT_XVWo-cVznCkhQ87TA_OHXHHUixHIMKQiPJc-i8x9VuNV4ldP-GnOKQadnL2ZXVcndH7el9ustK9vBqcruGgArbCFnKs/s200/McB-Me+at+Caldwells%27+house.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290435129555041458" /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:10px;"></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText2" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText2" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText2" style=""><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Final note</span></span></span></span></u></b><span style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">After a great couple of days visiting with Dr. Bob Caldwell, staying in his unbelievable home, meeting his beautiful and kind partner Sharon and taking a tour of the damage caused by last springs’ devastating flooding in that city the McBearen and I returned home without incident. It was a great experience. Hopefully I can talk Jani into going along the next time the McBearen wants to prove something!</span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText2" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> <br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoBodyText2" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><br /><p></p><p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Dick Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15728170332493530279noreply@blogger.com5