I may have shared with the list that my wife and I love to take the TR out
for a "stooge" - an RAF WW2 expression meaning going out with no particular
destination in mind and with no schedule for getting there or getting back.
"Reconnaissance of the scenery" fits the description well.
Well, today we were about 20 miles away from home and were approaching a
long left-hand corner when a black Mustang approached from the other
direction, lost control and drifted broadside into our lane. Tires were
squealing, smoke billowing, the wife screaming. The guy must have been
doing about 80 on a two-lane road and I truly felt this was it. I saw a gap
on the right between two fence posts, turned the wheel sharp right and
headed for the grass. The TR was great, clung to the road and steered us to
safer pastures. We were fine.
I have always loved my car, but now I have an ever deeper respect for its
abilities.
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