Cool, Crisp and Raw
The radio anouncer said 56 degrees this morning as I pullled out of the garage. My roadster thermometer registered 52. Sunny, crisp and cool at 8:00. I toyed with the thought of putting up the top as my neighbor drove by in his Mustang GT convertible. He honked, I waved and noticed,... his top was up.
WIMP!
I left mine down and pulled up the street behind him. At the stop, we pulled even and I got the crossed arms at the shoulder and a shiver look. I smiled a macho smile and yelled, "I'm fine. It's what I bought a roadster for." He smiled, shook his head, pulled his auto into gear, stepped on his wimpy six and turned right as I went left.
Blocks later, a Solara, top up. Another auto with the owner cocoooned up in her warm cabin. And then a ricer. Mitsubishi Eclipse convertible, again the top up. At the light I got the cross arm shiver, "what are you crazy?" look.
Wimps!
There is nothing like the smell and sounds of a fall morning. The sun burning off a little mist and clear, crisp, cold air in your nostrils. It is what I bought the roadster for. That contact with the real world, shifting manualy and driving by the tone of the exhaust and the sound and feel of the car as it moved over the road.
Temp at 54 degrees.
A Miata. Medium blue with, yes the black top up, windows closed. I came up fast on the interstate ramp. Buzzed him on the right and let fly into fourth. 80 MPH and 54 degrees. brrrrr!
He smiled as I went by.
Wimp!
Sports cars are built for driving. For being close to the road and one with the process of movement over the ground. The wind whipping your hair. The sense of speed. The cares of the world slipping away with the miles under your chassis.
54 degrees.
I came up on a Pontiac Vue. Sexy body, silver with a high hauch stance. Very macho from the back and good lines from the front. Small engine and the top up!
WIMP!
The driver waved as I went by. Young fella. More than likely just being nice to the crazy old fart driving much too fast on a cold day with the top down.
WIMP!
What is it with people who own roadsters or even convertibles, that they put the tops up when it's too hot and run the air. Or too cold so they run their heaters. I mean driving a sports car should be a bit rugged and tough. None of that modern comfort stuff. Bear up and drive it like you're supposed to. Top down, manual trans, work it, raw cold edge driving. Live it real.
54 degrees.
Good thing I have heated seats.
roadster with a stick
Last edited by Franc Rauscher; Oct 1, 2008 at 10:25 PM.