Bikes on Cars


A search for a picture of Donna in uniform for a Veterans Day Instagram post sent her on a treasure hunt into several of the boxes that are full family photos. After a couple hours of searching she found a wallet size of her Navy Boot Camp Graduation photo. But just as she was locating that one, I found the directory on the PC where I had stored a couple of scanned images we used at ASCO for a Veterans Day thing a couple of years ago.

But she also unearthed a couple interesting pictures of our cars with bikes on them. First up is our 1982 Honda Civic 4-Door Sedan with two road bikes upright on top. I think with this combo the car was now taller than it was long. I also almost screwed up once big time with this rack when it was on our 1979 Accord Hatchback. I pulled into a hotel portico without thinking and I only had about 4 inches to spare.

Number two is is the replacement rack for the one in the first photo. When we bought a Miata we lost a roof to put a roof rack on. This was a nifty rack that would fit on almost any trunk by adjusting the angle of the front arms and removing the front wheels. The front wheels sat in their own mounts between the two bicycles. We used this for over a decade until something broke on it that couldn’t be repaired. They weren’t making this style rack any more, so now we use a regular bumper mount rack.

Happy 29th Miataversary

A 34 year old man and his 34 hour old car.

Twenty-nine years ago today I became a Miata owner and I have had one ever since. Along the way there have been a total of four and I’ve logged nearly 425,000 miles in Miatas. At this pace, by the time I’m 70 I will have reached a half a million Miata miles and probably will be on Miata number five. For now though, I’ll be enjoying the heck out of this current one for the next, say, at least 4 years.

A 63 year old man and his 16 year old car.

69,000 Yellow Leaves

The below is a shameful massaging of an email I sent to a friend last night, about our weekend trip to the world famous Tail of the Dragon and its 318 turns in 11 miles.

We had 5 Miatas from the Masters Miata Club scheduled for the weekend trip. One of our Miata club members is also a member of a local Corvette Club and he invited some of his fellow ‘Vette guys to join. We had two who wanted to come, but neither was going to drive their Corvette. One was going to drive a Miata and the other was going to drive a Porsche. At the last minute, the Miata driver backed out, leaving just the mystery Porsche driver to meet us in Elberton, GA on Friday. Trust me, it was fairly easy to spot his Lava Orange 911 GT3 RS in the McDonald’s lot. 🙂

Our Porsche guest was a great sport about just loafing around with us slow poke Miatas and rode mid pack on the trip up. He had been as far up into North Carolina as Highlands, but had never driven into these western parts, so he was just happy to be with us and soak up our knowledge of the area.

After driving the 200 miles to get Robbinsville, no one wanted to drive the 50 extra miles total to do a Dragon run, except for our Porsche driver and me. So instead of the two of us driving, I asked if I could ride along with him. “Sure,” he said. While the cost of the Porsche was roughly equivalent to the cost of all of our 5 Miatas put together, he promptly justified the high cost of the car to me by demonstrating how it would feel to do the trip in a low flying Blue Angels jet.

And let me tell you, this car gets some respect on the road. On the way up to the start of the Gap going up US129, we came across a tight 3 pack of cars, traveling 60 MPH or so, going the same way. The stock looking Civic SI in the back surrendered first, approximately 1/4 mile after we came right up on his rear. The middle car, an older model GTR, withstood about two miles of him having this orange beast filling his mirror before he hit his flashers and slowed on a short stretch of straight. The lead car, a late model Mustang that looked a bit modified, hung on leading for about the next three miles (he was doing pretty good), but after we past a small tangle of cars turning into the Tapoco Lodge he finally gave in on the first wide spot after the sharp uphill turn past the dam. He quickly disappeared in our mirror.

For a minute I was afraid this trip would make the same drive in a Miata feel pedestrian, but on Saturday morning on our early morning trip through the gap and back, it actually was the opposite, the Miata felt almost more fun, for a lot less work, so I probably won’t be cashing in my 401k to buy my own GT3 RS.

Somewhere around the lovely town of Cross Anchor, SC on the way home today the CTBNL reached the 69,000 mile mark.

So, I’m Getting A New Hat

But I’m not sure I deserve it, I only watched 2 games all the way through.

I went to bed in the seventh inning of game one, with the Sox up by two runs, but just sure they were going to lose (they didn’t.) For Game 2, I did watch the whole thing (they won.) For game 3, I bailed at the bottom of the tenth with the scored tied 1-1 and went to bed sure they were going to lose. I woke up 3 hours later to use the bathroom and went in to the computer to see what the score was. It was 2-2 in the 18th inning. It was still going on! By the time I got  the TV on I watched a Dodger dump Gatorade on another Dodger (they lost.) Next day for game four, I turned off the TV after the Dodgers scored 4 runs in the bottom of the 6th inning just sure they were going to lose (they didn’t.) Game 5, I watched the whole thing and they won. They won the whole thing.

So, I’m getting a new hat. Good thing too, because my 2013 hat is starting to look a little tired. After 2004, when the Red Sox won the World Series for the first time in 86 years I broke down and bought a souvenir hat. Three years later I replaced it, when they won the Series again. I bought a replacement for that 2007 cap six years later. And now after 5 more years it is time for another new World Series Winner Hat.

25 Years Ago – Fall 1993

Stingray

by
Tom Voelk
Seattle, WA

“Red, definitely red,” I instructed the salesman on the other end of the phone. The words were sure. The words were firm. The words have been dreamed about for a very long time. And they took me back to a day so very long ago.

It was twenty years ago, that day was. I will never forget it. Lying in the backyard, the summer wind dancing across me. The smell, the tickle offish cut grass. The anticipation. Mom singing softly as she hung the laundry on the line. Brilliant white clouds soared across a big blue Minnesota sky. Oh yes, that day. My tenth birthday.

My rusty, old, crummy old, stupid old bike inherited from my big brother Mike was about to be replaced. I just knew it. Lying there in the grass with my head in the clouds, I was already riding my new Stingray. A red Schwinn Stingray.

Actually blue would be just fine. So would green. Ooooh no. Green was kind of dorky, it would have to be either red or blue. No, definitely red with the sparkled banana seat, high rise handlebars and chrome fenders. Oh! What a machine! The fastest in the neighborhood! Morn stopped hanging the laundry to ask what I was grinning about.

So when Dad asked me to help him “pick something up downtown,” well, I knew exactly what was happening. I didn’t let on though. For one thing, my Dad was stem and didn’t appreciate emotional displays. For another, our family wasn’t exactly rich, and I wasn’t going to spoil his big surprise. I wanted to sprint to the car. I walked. Casually.

Wow. I never knew a car could go so slow, or that traffic lights could stay red so long. Red. Oh yeah, that red Schwinn Stingray. My new bike, my Stingray, was certainly going to be the best on the block! It would also probably go faster than this old car.

And it was at that moment my daydreaming gave way to a sickening reality. I scrambled around to look out the back window. Dad had passed right by the Schwinn dealer! Didn’t he know? Hadn’t I made myself perfectly clear these past months? A Stingray! He kept driving. Past the bakery. Past the drug store. I slumped back around. The Stingray was long gone. The car was very quiet. I felt confused and betrayed as Dad pulled the Oldsmobile up in front of Sears.

How can you forget a day like that? It started with such promise and ended so bittersweetly. As I rode home that day I passed the Schwinn dealer and saw the shiny new Stingray I thought would be mine still in the window. That was the day I learned all about compromise, except for the fact I ate all the birthday cake I wanted.

So now twenty years later, I’m on the phone with a guy named Dave at Island Mazda. My wife has suggested a number of practical automobiles to replace my rusty old, crummy old car that was bought second-hand. She knows it’s in vain though. She knows what I really want. After just five minutes on the phone, Dave and I agree on a price for a new Miata.

Now in twenty years I’ve had larger setbacks in life than not getting a bicycle I wanted as a kid. But as he asked me what color I want-ed, I realized here, one childhood dream was coming true. He had no idea of the memories flooding my head. He couldn’t see my quiet smile. All he heard was, “Red. Definitely red.”

Copyright 1993, Miata Magazine. Reprinted without permission.

 

Carolina Panthers Car


In the ten months since I added the black 1″ stripes outlining the 2 large blue stripes on the silver car, only one person has mentioned the similarity of the color combo to the uniforms and helmets of the NFL’s Carolina Panthers. During last weekend’s trip thru northern South Carolina and southern North Carolina I got that observation 3 times.

My response to these folks was always, “It was purely coincidental.” But it got me thinking, maybe I need to change something to keep from getting this comment. Swapping the color of the big blue stripes was out of the question, too much money. Removing the stripes all together was also a non-starter, so that left replacing the black narrow stripes with a different color. After mocking up several colors and dismissing most, only two were marginally considered, maroon (a nod to the dearly departed Emperor) and a dark blue. I like the dark blue best and think if done in a reflective tape it would even look quite interesting at night.

Of course there is one other more extreme option, we could move all the way across country where probably no one would make the connection…

68,000 Sharp Edges

It is time, well actually past time, to replace our backyard garden shed. I have spray painted the doors with rustoleum a couple times and we have garden decorations on the side to disguise its decrepit appearance. It was here when we moved in 30 years ago, so it is at least that old and although I doubt the shed is as old as the house (63) it has got to be close. The previous owner left us a folder of stuff about the appliances, etc and in it was the brochure for the shed. It is a 10′ x 9′ Sears Lawn Building Model No. 696.60157 and the line drawing on the front cover is right out of the Mad Men era, very mid-century.

We ordered our Arrow 10′ x 8′ replacement from Home Depot. Went with the Ship-to-Store option because that was free instead of the $55 to have it dropped at the end of our driveway. I always say, “A Miata is as good as a pick-up truck on a sunny day.”, but in this case it just wouldn’t do the trick. The box it came in was 3′ x 7′ x 0.5′ and weighed 150 pounds. This time we needed an actual truck (thanks Doug.) Donna and I started to assemble it this afternoon and managed to get some of the bones together in the 2 hours we worked at it until I cut my finger on one of the 68,000 sharp edges and decided it was time to call it a day.

Somewhere around St Matthews, South Carolina on the way home from beautiful Rockingham, North Carolina the CTBNL passed the 68,000 mile mark.