No more rust

We have a special attachment to this car.

When the movers were gone everything left had to fit in the car. Parked on the street in Brooklyn we packed and repacked until achieving the perfect sequence of stuffing and cramming to fit all our belongings into the trunk and back seat with just enough room left for us and the dog. The bikes went on the roof rack and we were at last completely self contained in a twelve year old car of questionable background. Our situation bore similarities to the Joads and other Oakies setting out west in overstuffed vehicles only to encounter Grapes of Wrath. As we sat in the Key Food parking lot on the verge of our great adventure across the country I was fairly certain we were just a few hours away from being broken down somewhere in Jersey. Instead, we zipped over the East river, across Canal Street, through the Holland Tunnel, and in true New Yorker poster style, to points west. The zigzag course across the country included Niagara Falls, Canada, Detroit, Iowa, Montana and Colorado. Our trusty old diesel tacked across the country at 80 mph getting up to 40 miles per gallon. It didn’t slow down when we hit the Rockies and didn’t falter on exploratory trips down washboard roads, it just kept on going.
It has continued to serve us reliably as we put roots down out here. It has helped me launch my business delivering me safely and promptly through terrible traffic to surveys all over Northern California. We plan to bring home our baby from the hospital in this car. The least we could do was take care of the advancing rust and multiple scrapes and gouges that were becoming impossible to ignore. For the cost of one good survey, Earl Sheib has given our beloved bullet a new life. Sure, there was some “overspray” and a few funny looking spots but at a distance, it looks damn good.
Although we own our home, boat and our child is about to be born here, I can’t help but look at the car as Captain Cook must have looked at the good ship Endeavour anchored somewhere across the globe from England: it got us out here and its our ticket back. Hopefully I won’t be killed and cooked before then.