The Worlds Largest...What does this have to do with Classic Cars? Everything. I am especially lucky to live in the good old US of A. I am a driving fool, always have been, always will be. Unless I absolutely positively need to be there the next day, I prefer the old fashioned method of travel. Drive, baby. I have driven an automobile, a motorcycle or a plain old pick-up truck through a vast portion of this great land of ours. There only a few states I have yet to leave my burned air-fuel mixture in and I plan to drive through them soon. If I had my choice and of course the access to unlimited funds, I would gas up my vintage car with high-test, fold up and stuff the AAA road map into the visor, stack a 12 pack of Diet Mountain Dew on the vinyl split bench and head west. Yeah, that's it. Drive out to Chicago; pick up the remnants of route 66 and serpentine along the blacktop until I sink into the Pacific Ocean. Or perhaps pick up 80 to 79 to 94 and cross the northern passage. It doesn't matter, regardless of the route, the lure of the "Blue Highway" draws me like a moth to a flame. So what is the attraction? Isn't it just aiming your vehicle down an endless black stretch of faceless geography with only the monotonous drone of your engine keeping you company? Nope. This is America. The land of the World's Largest...  continued... |
"Drive out to Chicago; pick up the remnants of route 66 and serpentine along the
blacktop until I sink into the Pacific Ocean. " God Bless America |
