Random thoughts about roadside art, National Parks, historic preservation, philosophy of technology, and whatever else happens to cross my mind.
New years eve of 1965 a few friends with with me in my old 54 Plymouth up to the ski lodge on Mount Baker and it snowed pretty good that night. Snow plows covered the cars so the next morning we had to dig them out and there is no way it would start, coasted down the mountain in gear a couple of miles before it started firing and running.
I love the old cars; but i do remember the can of ether (starting fluid) I kept to start my car on cold winter mornings. New cars have no class, but they do start better.the Ol'Buzzard
My space, my rules: play nice and keep it on topic.