Pitiful Excuses for Road Trips

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37 Mercury

Road trips are like escaping into the Matrix. Tours, guides and planning prepare you to see only what they want you to see, casting a blind eye to certain realities. Should you stay longer and wander the area, talk to the locals or read the newspapers, you’ll realize that just beyond the pretty surface of any self-described paradise lurks the ugly.

And here is what I mean:

George's Relics

George's Cars

My boyfriend argues these rotting carcasses are roadside relics, abandoned treasures that just need a little TLC. I contend that the poorly disfigured are fodder for the recycling bin.

Being an owner of a restored ’46 Ford, his fascination with junkyards and salvage strips are emotional joyrides. I can convince him to climb a mountain with me only if we navigate the backroads where he can marvel over his insatiable appetite for scrap metal.

When my car enthusiast sees a relic of his liking, he breaks fast and jumps from the vehicle. He marvels over what’s left of the dashboard and hubcaps, takes photos of the hood and doors and pursues the owner who can recite the tale of its lifespan.

He’s been beaten up on his rusty explorations but that never stops him. Cuts and scratches from shattered glass or prickly undergrowth makes the ‘search and rescue’ that much more rewarding. Whether the car has been buried by the elements or purposely done so by the owner, little deters George from christening a disheveled wreck with his camera.

George's Cars