Truckin

My sister and her dog, my truck and my favorite motorcycle.

A few weeks ago I decided I was tired of waiting to find a trailer ride to get my ol truck out to Denver after relocating from the western slope some 300 miles and a few major passes away. I had my Dear Cookie drop me off. She left me with my tools, some duct tape, bailing wire, and a fire extinguisher and my trusty Honda for parts store runs. I felt like I was about to do something really stupid as the truck had not been a road worthy vehicle for some 20 years and before that it was only used to collect firewood once a year. My Mom bought the truck for my Dad before I was born. They thought it was a bit ugly being yellow so they used paint brushes to make it black. Now it is proper ugly. I spent day number one doing the basic tune and service stuff. one leaky valve stem and a leaky brake cylinder did not seem enough to keep me from making the first 70 mile stint to my sister's house. I spent one more full day there making futile preparations. The unsought of naysayers was abundant. That shit only motivates me. Day 3 saw me on the road at six am. and like Tom Waits, I was feeling so holy. 50-55mph on the interstate and the first 200 miles rolled by like the playing of a favorite record. Then came the continental divide.  Would the old and porcupine chewed cooling system hold? Summit of the first pass, 11,000 ft above see level I pull over and pop the hood for visual inspection. Some popping noise. Some ass hole needs to learn to proper torque spark plugs so the don't get loose.  I never claimed to be a master mechanic, only a learning jet eye in training. Second big pass was a breeze and down, down, down we cruised all the way home. Happily ever after. The end.

Summit of Vail pass

Almost to the top Eisenhower

At the top. Tunnel of love.