Saturday, June 9, 2018

Driving with the top down!

I don't own a convertible.  But my car does have a landau roof.  The so-called sun roof (or moon roof) only retracts a small amount but once opened - and with the combination of glass throughout most of the roof - the impression is quite breezy. Naturally when doing so I also put down the front and back side windows for the complete airy effect.  Having owned two convertibles I readily acknowledge that the landau roof on a 4-door sedan is tame competition for a 2-door sporty model like a Mustang or Cutlass Supreme (I'm guessing).  Yet what surprised me was that the balmy summer wind today blended beautifully with the sedan and lent the carefree ardour of a vagabond.

Operating a smooth machine is a thrill.  Though I am reluctant to suggest that my hearing is perfect, I can however say without reservation that the sound and feel of the engine were exquisite.  All the while I had the delightful sensation of being in an open car.  There was no point attempting to listen to music on the radio or iPhone - the wind noise capitalized on any other din.

My road journey this afternoon was a circle from Almonte along the 4-lane highway (#417) to Arnprior, down White Lake Road through to Burnstown (where I stopped for an espresso café at Neat Coffee Shop) then along Calabogie Road in McNab/Braeside Township of the County of Renfrew through Arnprior to Kinburn Road and the Village of Pakenham whence I flew along the back road to the Village of Blakeney (formerly Rosebank) into Almonte and home. These country roads are incomparable - except perhaps A1A along the Atlantic Ocean in eastern United States. I never tire of repeating the identical route here when aimlessly cruising.  The interludes at Neat Coffee Shop (or at the beanery in White Lake, the Antrim Truck Stop in Arnprior or the deck at Cedar Cove Resort) make for a pleasant outing rain or shine (though certainly the sunny weather today improved the view considerably).

I can't but feel terribly complacent when so blatantly swooning over such mundane activity. It helped to expiate my guilt that earlier this morning we had bicycled the usual ten kilometres along Country Street and the 8th Concession Line. When briefly attending a vernissage this afternoon I reminded myself how much I despise standing or walking.  My subsequent prostration in the car was more than welcome, it was a necessity - and all the better for the open windows!

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