The Tracker

If you have not heard, you are currently traveling out of the country. It is HOT!! The sweltering heat expected in the last weeks of August in Alabama have hit in the end of June.  Despite the heat, we took a trip in the Tracker to the Shack for dinner Friday night. 

Note: This is not a photo of our Tracker but a good representation

If you have not seen Paul driving the Tracker, you do not live in Selma. It is somewhat notorious. No one else we know has a Tracker or, before Paul, knew the Tracker was a vehicle instead of a "As Seen on TV" whatchamahigit.

My husband has a penchant for acquiring used vehicles. He justified it to me by saying "at least they don't cost much." And can I say, he is right and it shows.  Rust, missing gadgets that most car owners find essential, gages that don't exactly work...the list continues.

Since we were married, he has made some memorable purchases.  For awhile he was on an electric car kick.  Not hybrid. Not new fangled electric most currently on the market produced from a reputable car manufacturer.  No.  

Again, not a picture of our actual truck but you get the idea of it.

He purchased a mini-truck, removed all of the guts and reworked/rewired it to run off batteries stored in the bed of the truck.  He rode that around town for about year before deciding to see if he could improve the idea in a different vehicle.  Traveling to Birmingham, he spotted a VW Bug graveyard and decided he just had to have one.  He sold the truck, purchased the Bug and reengineered it to battery power.  

Our children loved this particular vehicle.  While our regular cars were exposed to the elements, the Bug had a place of honor in the carport.  The children played in it for hours in toddler hood on long otherwise boring mornings at home.  They began to think of it as their car. So much so, that when we finally took the Bug to the car crusher, Fairchild, watching the big claw picking it off the back of the trailer we were pulling, shouted "Daddy, Daddy they are taking my car off to kill it. What will I do now?"  She began to cry uncontrollably.  Smartly, knowing his daughter and how to calm her immediately, Paul promised we would get her a new PINK car. It worked. The tears quickly turned into a smile.

Also during this period of time, Paul purchased a bucket truck.  Not a new shiny bucket truck. An old one with the Alabama Power logo on the doors of the truck gone but its grey imprint noticeably and eternally memorializing its original owner.  This stayed in our yard for MONTHS.  Finally, we returned to live in our new old house, I drew a line in the sand.  The bucket truck was not invited to live with us any longer.  He still has it but I am not sure where it is stored. I learned long ago not to ask questions to which I likely don't want to hear the answer. "Where is the bucket truck?" is one of those questions. If I can't see it, I don't care where it is.

So you can imagine my thrill when Paul told me he was driving to Tennessee to pick up another vehicle.  Knowing there was nothing I could say or do to stop him, I frowned, creased my brows and said nothing. Nothing at all. To my surprise, he brought home a convertible vehicle with a decent paint job and no rust in the floor boards. Amazing. It is his around town car when it is not raining.  

So Friday night, when the children declared it was "Family Night" and Paul had the idea to eat at the Shack thirty minutes from our home,  into the Tracker we all climbed.  It was a lovely ride with 100 degree wind whipping through our hair.

I'll leave explaining the Shack to another post another day.