I'm in a Lyft on the first rainy fall day on I-5 headed to the border. On the other side is a 1963 Land Rover Series IIa that might be the jankiest, scratch that - the most patina'd Series out there. A lot of questions remain at this point: will it start, will it run, how does it drive, can I get it into the US, what is to going to be like driving 4 hours back to Seattle? A lot of questions. I'm in the wind.
The guy I bought it from handed me a towel before I left. I've had a lot of cars in my lifetime and this is the first one that ever came with a towel.
So, why? Well, this was a way in to a car I've wanted for a long time. Sourced on Canada Craigslist the price was right and the seller seemed great, of course he's nice, he's Canadian. But the process, my process is what I found so amusing and familiar as I sat in the back of that Lyft. I think the doubt, the questions are part of the adventure for me. As we get older our world can get smaller and it probably gets safer. Nothing about a 60 year old car makes sense so maybe this uncertainty is part of the appeal.
As I made my way down Hwy 9 the oil pressure light was coming on when I went down hill or braked. I figured I better pull over and put some oil in it. Pretty much every scenario I worked out in my head ended up with me on the side of the road somewhere. The closer I got to Seattle the more real it seemed. Easy and safe would've been, well easier and safer.
Cut to the chase, yeah, I made it. The truck made it. I was fried at the end. Old cars are about the experience. You can get anywhere faster, cheaper, more efficiently and safer in pretty much any car relative to this old series but it was a day of adventure that wouldn't have happened with a sure thing.
