Back Country Canada

            With no radio to intrude, I listened to the sounds of Mog and learned his language.  For in that un-insulated world, all the creaks, groans, pings, and rattles were heard; and, each represented a part of the Morgan and each told a story, and as the litany would change I would know the needs of the Mog.

           The union of the human and mechanical told me that the Mog was feeling no pain.  We clipped along the black highway penetrating the cold air, sending shock waves of iced crystals slithering to the side of the road.

           What a sight the Mog and I made as we rambled down the pavement:  old goggles firmly in place; thick wool scarf wrapped as only to expose the goggles.  British driving cap pulled tightly down, the bill bisecting the horizon.  The car coat, incredibly old, double woolen, leather lined, exceedingly heavy, with it's large fleece-laden collar protecting, cocoon fashion, my body, giving an incredible hulk appearance behind the wheel.  Hands encased in large grease stained gloves were nearly frozen to the wheel.  The Mog looked his best with his narrow 16" tires and motorcycle fenders, suicide doors and high flat radiator front, exposed suspension, and separated bug eye head lights.  His leather belt, cinched tightly down over the long narrow bonnet, flapped and waved in the rushing air.  The vintage automobile with it's heatless innards and topless condition offered limited protection against the biting wind.  But what a sight!  Everywhere stares, laughter, questions, pleased people, eager to pry.

           A bus with its cargo of young minds and measured pace blocked my carefree plunge down the road.  We came up rapidly behind.  It only took seconds as excited youngsters crushed to the back of the bus to stare disbelievingly at this apparition daring to challenge their young imaginations with thoughts of adventure.;  With hand held high we roared around; the bus swayed in response to the weight of the children as they gleefully followed this strange fellow, noses and hands pressed against the frosty windows.