Hands down, my favourite car I’ve owned so far would be my granny smith apple green VW 1960’s bus. From the moment I paid the nice gypsy woman $500.00 for it (over a nice two paycheck payment plan so I would still have enough gas to drive), and the moment I took the wheel and drove it home, I was in love.
It represented everything I thought I was, or hoped to be, at that time in my life.
It was a beast that had no A/C, or heat for wintertime, and a manual transmission that would routinely give me a little trouble. I was also a little short for it, and I had to squinch up the front seat in order to reach the gas pedal. It only played music tapes, and the only tape I had was the Best of Jim Croce. I became a big fan.
But it was all worth it when a group of us would gather to head to the mountains, either for a overnight camping party, or a chill day hike along the sweet Wasatch mountains. I had many crazy, wonderful times in the magic bus, but their is one day in particular that I remember with much fondness….
It was July 24th, which in my fair part of the world is a State holiday. We packed the bus with a cooler of drinks, and the usual food to cook over a fire. I started heading up the winding road in Big Cottonwood canyon.
|a girl I can’t remember & my room mate Colby|
|me, psycho Paul, and Colbster|