Hot

When cars had character. I can’t tell them apart anymore.

With technical difficulties behind I’ll try posting another short blog and hope for the best. This is a tribute to all the motorheads out there. These are folks whose passions lay with vehicles and where their particular tastes may take them. I make my living twisting wrenches and care only about travelling safely from A to B. Other people see vehicles as an art form and turn the mundane into the beautiful. Enough said. These photos were taken within an hour on a very hot Saturday afternoon in the parking lot of the Jaffray Pub. So hot in fact that my mobile phone/camera refused to work, displaying a message about being overheated and refusing to take more photos. Really!

Personality
A two door
This is more my flavour
I doubt that many new trucks this year will make it to this age.
It’s hard to believe this truck is sixty-some years old. The green International was old at that time.
Another International from the early fifties
Beautifully restored things like this add-on toolbox look like they belong.
This was every schoolboy’s dream. A few of them, geezers now, managed to fulfill that passion.
Butt-ugly, boring family transport from the sixties. The appeal of this beast is that it is entirely original, even the faded paint.
The interior is in amazing condition, the seatbelts were an optional feature.
Whatever floats your boat. It doesn’t suit my tastes but the work on it is amazing.
Even the radio antennae sport a hot rod cartoon character. Ratfink stands on a skull.
Just paint some flames on the sides.

I’m writing in the cool of dawn before another work day. The air is smoky and dust-filled. It is choking me. Water bombers orbited above us yesterday tending to a blaze a few miles south. It was probably ignited during the previous night’s thunderstorms. There is a weary hush outside. A robin and then a raven call mournfully. The only other sound is the white noise of my neighbour’s incessant air conditioner. There’s another long day ahead.

Nature’s purple flames growing in hot, bone dry dust
Beside the path

Sometimes you just have to jump in a mud puddle because it’s there. Never get so old that you forget about having fun.”

Tom Giaquinto (Be A Good Human)

Author: Fred Bailey

Fred is a slightly-past middle age sailor /, writer / photographer with plenty of eclectic hands-on skills and experiences. Some would describe him as the old hippy who doesn't know the war is over. He is certainly reluctant to grow up and readily admits to being the eternal dreamer. He has written several books including two novels, 'The Keeper' and 'Storm Ecstasy,' as well as 'The Water Rushing By', 'Sins Of The Fathers', 'The Magic Stick', as well as an extensive inventory of poetry, essays, short stories, anecdotes and photographs. His first passion is the ocean, sailboats, voyaging and all those people who are similarly drawn to the sea. He lived aboard and extensively cruised the BC Coast on 'Seafire' the boat he refitted to go voyaging, to explore new horizons both inner and outer. This blog was about that journey and the preparations for it. Circumstances prevailed which forced the sale of his beloved vessel. Now on a different tack, the voyage continues. If you follow this blog your interest may provide some of the energy that helps fuel the journey. Namaste Contact me at svpaxboat@gmail.com

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