My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

14 foot boat in a 12 foot box

Still lookin’ for a truck. Went to Pacifica and checked out an old workhorse, ten gears with a PTO dump. (The bed raises by using power from the motor.) I’m startin’ to learn about what I need. Sounds spiritual or somethin’ but I’m just talkin’ about how there’s a lot of different trucks out there and each serves a different purpose.

For instance, I don’t need an old wood chipper truck. The wheels stood four an a half feet tall. I had to run and jump to get in the bed. Won’t be any fun throwing a load up and over into that one. But having a ten speed would’ve been nice. 5 low and 5 high. Granny gear. You step onto the external gas tank (there’s a 30 gallon tank strapped to each side) and climb into the seat.

I went further down the line and checked out that ’51 I showed you yesterday. That was a wreck. Squirrels hanging out and snacking on all the wiring. Stuffing half chewed nuts into the pistons. They stole the radio. But it was a beautiful day to drive down the coast among wildflower covered hills, in and out of redwood forest, sweeping corners that reveal teetering old barbed wire fence posts falling like a line of drunk soldiers.

Locke lives down in a holler not far from that rusted old thing with shredded tires. Pulled in and bounced along a washed out dirt road till we got to his place. You’ll see a bunch of old cars and boats tucked under some oak trees and then four or five mowers lined up and an empty trailer and a duck pond a little bigger round than a kids pool. Then there’s Locke’s place. Built it himself. Has running water and electricity and some plywood laid down over big holes in the deck. Heats it with a stove and wood he takes from neighboring ranches.

To make a long story short, one that involved a pot luck and wine and bluegrass music, he ended up helping me load one of his old aluminum boats in the back of my box truck. Which may be more fun this summer than another vehicle.