The summer of 84 I drove my TR6 from SLC to San Hoser. I used it as daily
transport for the three months I was there, as well as trips to various
northern wineries. I think also Sears Point for an IMSA GT race (we may have
taken Dave's Fiat) and then back home to SLC. The only trouble I had was the
water pump starting to leak as I was leaving Milpitas for Salt Lake. Luckily
even though it was the sunday of Labor Day weekend, I did find a parts store
with one in stock and was soon on my merry way. I avoided the interstates
where possible, going up through the Sierras, up through Carson and Fallon,
Nevada, then along US 50. You know, there is *nothing* like winding up that
thumping straight six along a forest road, and actually being able to smell
the pines warming in the sun.
There is a neat little road that runs through a small mountain range just south
of 50. For those of you who may actually have been alive while Coventry was
cranking out TR3s, there is an interesting little aspect to this one road, set
in the heart of the Nevada wasteland. After it leaves the mountains, the road
makes about a 12 mile beeline for US 50. Flat. Straight. The last time I
drove it, the warning sign at the start was no longer there, the 5 mile
marker was, the 10 mile was gone. When I first saw the sign, I had no film
in my camera, and there was, needless to say, not a 7-11 in sight. Anyway,
the whole point of this was that at one time Nevada had no speed limits.
They did have 10 miles of straight, smooth pavement, with 0, 5 and 10 miles
marked. Sigh. Now, the road is rough and rutted, seldom traveled. Maybe
the next time I drive to California...
Also in the very same car I hopped into it at a moments notice, after loading
up my friend's luggage and drove him the 300 miles to Jackson. It rained and
snowed a lot, but we made it with no trouble. The return home was better, as
it had cleared up and was almost warm. No car troubles at all. Ironically,
though, between Big Piney and Pinedale we did see a late model TR6, red,
looking forlorn at the side of the road. I meant to leave him my number.
So those of you driving from California or the Northwest, or from the wrong
side of the Mississippi, do it! It will be an experience not often repeated
if done in a strong and spirited roadster, or it will be a few hours of your
life wasted in the comfort of an airliner. And of course, for those coming
in from the west the Fat Chance will be more than happy to accomodate all it
can, with Spares and Suds close to hand.
mjb.
|