Letting The Past Go

That was me on i-84 eastbound just after troutdale and somewhere before Multnomah falls on Sunday. Me with the hood up on the el camino, my beloved EL-C, you in your fancy, new, high efficiency, gutless wonder giving you a "new car smell" high because your all sealed in huffing plastic, glue and fumes that aren't in American built muscle cars and listening to some fancy lad euro boy band.

It goes like this, last week I found $10 under an empty 40 at the park. I saved the cash and decided to get a decent breakfast at the truck stop before heading to hood river for the first real cross race. When i hit the road I gunned it for old times sake on the on ramp and blew a head gasket in the vehicle i've loved longer than any woman has loved me.

Alot went through my head while i waited for the AAA truck and I watched racers go past with cross bikes ontop of there cars. Every one of you bastards looked like a 4-wheeled fist giving me the bird with your skinny seat and extra long seat post sticking out of your carbon fiber cross bike.

I guess i'll sell the EL-C to my girlfriends step son. He's young enough to think that car is cool again, dumb enouhg to buy a car that don't run and ugly enough to have time to fix it because the girls are all scared away by the poor rat's acne.