Ah, yes, driving a convertible at night. One of my favourite
activities. I was reminded of this myself last evening as I headed for
my bed at about midnight, just over 45 degrees, and stars lit like tiny
halogen bulbs in the sky. The cold brisk wind whipping at my tangled
hair, the warm as toast air from the heater on my feet, the rumble and
roar from the twin exhausts at 1500 and 5000 rpm murmering in my cold
ears, the snick and solid feel of the shifter on one hand, the tug of
the road on the big Yokohamas at the other end of the steering in the
other hand. But mostly it is the stars that get me when driving at
night. Last night I felt as if I could turn off the lights and drive by
the stars, it was so bright and clear. Lizbeth and I felt as if we
could drive until dawn came up over the Berkshires.
Of course this doesn't include the chat I had with the New York State
police who were disturbed by the lack of an inspection sticker until
they saw the plates were from Wisconsin...Good thing it was dark out.
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