Ladies and Gentlemen:
Fortunately, the Voyager (Plymouth minivan) had a flat tire (tyre, or tar)
this evening when I set out to drive a load of folding chairs to our studio
in preparation for a special function tomorrow. I say fortunately, because
it hadn’t dawned on me to haul chairs with the MGA, but it would really be
much better suited for the twenty-two mile round trip over the snaky,
hilly, forest route. Right?
But how does one fit ten Samsonite chairs into a, how should I put it, less
than Samson-like conveyance? Well, if you want to follow along and try this
at home the trick is to take the passenger seat cushion out. Seven chairs,
folded and stacked, filled the space from floor to instrument panel, the
last one encouraged in by opening the door and going at it sideways. I
tried to leave a little room to reach the handbrake, just in case. One
chair, folded in the tonneau cover, fit transversely behind the seats --
its gray tube frame suggesting a very optimistic, low-profile roll bar.
That left two chairs for the luggage rack. These I strapped on with a piece
of kernmantle shock cord.
Dusk was insinuating itself over the Ozark hills as I switched on the
lights and rolled up our lane to the highway. The waxing moon perched very
nicely about a gearshift lever’s length above the left corner of the
windscreen as I steered out onto the roadway. The night air was cool, the
asphalt still warm from baking in the day’s sun as the tires bit the road
surface. The highway was completely deserted.
I loafed along enjoying the sound of the engine while watching for owls and
whippoorwills alongside the road. I did see a wild turkey hen with a few of
her young poults crossing the road behind her. They were out awfully late I
thought, no doubt flushed off of the nest by some hungry, marauding
quadruped.
I reached my destination, off-loaded the chairs and turned back toward
home. I picked up the pace a bit as I now didn’t have to worry about the
prospect of a chair coming unattached from someplace, clattering over the
sheet metal and grinding itself across the roadbed behind. The moon was
even brighter as the first stars were making their evening debut. The
familiar asterism of the Big Dipper emerged, its cup stars pointing to the
Pole. Overhead was Arcturus, Spica, and the Summer Triangle was rising in
the East. All a clear sign that the high days of summer are here with their
promise of many other enjoyable if not necessary drives ahead.
May you, too, have safe and happy drives this summer and if you have any
chairs to deliver, I just might be available.
Regards,
David F. Darby
Interior Highlands, Missouri USA
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