I dusted off my motorbike this past week. When I put the new sticker on the registration plate I started removing the old ones, and realized I have owned it since 2011. 9 years, two wheels, and one very, very close call.
This January I bought myself a 1970 Cessna 150k. It’s the smallest Cessna made, and I think I travel faster on my motorcycle. It has a tricycle landing gear. 3 wheels, but mostly none.
My trucks, the only things I do admit to abusing, are my best friends. I still have Old Red and have asked a mechanic to bring it to life. My grey Ford, now a tired old man himself, has 390k on it. It’s my daily driver. 4 wheels, just don’t count the lug nuts.
I’m not sure if it’s the trucker hat that I found in a clients home, which she graciously gave me, but I’ve recently found myself wanting to learn how to drive an 18 wheeler. All the boys I grew up with seemed to think it was the coolest thing to do, and maybe I’m just late to the party.
I see friends on Facebook who are drivers posting pictures of the sites the see as they travel. There seems to be a lone wolf nature to it, a freedom from society. That kind of freedom has always appealed to me. I imagine it’s not unlike the freedom I feel when I escape on two wheels, and lose contact with the Earth with three.
I’ve gone on a short trip in an 18 wheeler with my great friend, Cory. I really enjoyed it, and can only imagine how much more I’d enjoy it alone, without him. I’m certain he feels the same.
I’d get the hat, buy some cowboy boots, put a rubber duck on my dash, and some of those dancing hula girls to keep the duck happy. I’d get some sunscreen for my left arm and cheek. I’d definitely get myself a CB radio. Depending on my ever fluctuating Bodyweight, I’d be ‘Big T’ or possibly ‘T-boney’. However, its likely after a few months of driving my peers would just call me ‘Jackknife’.
I’d listen to Alabama’s 40 Hour Week as I drive down the highway. Except, I’d only work a 20 hour week. Most drivers try to hide hours in a log, I’d round up. The Sheriff would inspect my log in Golden B.C…..
“You sure you have 6 hours in? Your log says you’ve only driven from Calgary to Golden?” he might question.
“Don’t you have bigger fish to fry?” I might reply.
“You do realize even at 6 hours you are not nearly timed out right?” He would likely persist.
“Listen Bear, I like to err on the side of caution.” I’d respond, “I might not be tired but the Hula girls need a rest.”
“Ok, just asking, have a great nap.” He’d acknowledge.
“10-4, catch you on the flip flop.” Id say with a drawl.
I want an old truck. A light trailer and room for my dog. I want to drive wherever I feel like, and not have a timeline. I want free gas too. I’ll stop for breakfast 3x a day. When I get to where I’m going, I will feel like I have arrived.
If you read this crap, thank you.
Tris.
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