Three hundred and thirty miles in a 1964 Ford 2-ton truck with a fully (and I can’t emphasis fully fully enough) loaded box.
Just drove from Malo, WA to Magnolia, WA with my faded-blue truck, big-ass aluminum box on the back and the stuff of my inheritance inside. Shake shake shake rumble. Long, loud trip.
See, the truck truly is a farm truck. Drives like one. Comes with assorted debris of the ages in the cab, and the classic “Gas Grass or Ass. No one rides for free” sticker on the glove box.
Did I mention loud? And hurky jerky? All along the highway. Tiring. Plus, three mountain passes between here and there.
But I did it! And the truck is now parked here at my home, with the looming chore of unloading and finding homes for all the contents.
Did I mention fully loaded?
sounds like a great truck and a great trip… well except for the rough ride and the noise…
… but why would anyone want to leave Malo?
DD
Posted on 21-Nov-07 at 9:04 pm | Permalinkahhh. Malo is one of those places that sane people are “from” … beautiful, but isolated–physically and philosophically.
Posted on 21-Nov-07 at 9:11 pm | Permalink