For over a year my car (that I call "Ferrari Red") sat in the exact same spot in front of the house. Just kickin' it. I liked to think of it as my own personal weather channel. If I looked out the window and it was wet I knew it was raining. If it was dry, it wasn't. You get the point. She was always there, a spare "doughnut" tire on the back, one flat in the front, moss growing out of the windshield wipers and a square of random wind-blown trash and leaves around it from where the street sweeper couldn't reach—then those assholes stole Maureen's truck.
I had to get her back on the road, so I charged up the battery, fixed the tires, scraped off the moss and Ferrari Red was back on the road. Maureen's truck was found a week later, but Red is still on the road. Why? 'Cause it is become novelty. After getting everywhere via bicycle for a year it's nice to go somewhere without showing up soaking wet or freezing. Oh—and I am lazy as hell. Did I mention that? But I gotta get back on that steel horse, I think the only thing inflating faster than the gas prices is my waist line. I don't know what this has to do with the photo, or the title for that matter. Maybe 'cause I took the photo in Europe and it's of bikes... I need to ride mine... Wrap it up Chris, wrap it up...
