The last week has been gorgeous.
Beautiful, sunny, warm. All the snow is gone, finally. Tuesday and Wednesday it was 68 and 70 degrees Fahrenheit respectively. Hell, I was even glad to see the mosquitos.
Convertible weather. Woohoo.
My wife drives our Jeep Cherokee in the winter, but in the summer she drives her pride and joy - this:
That's an '88 Mustang ragtop, otherwise known as a 5.0 liter, 5-speed, fuel injected rocket sled. We found it for sale sitting in a field, next to a crappy rundown bar on the road to Patuxent River, Maryland. The paint was faded and the top rotting off. One of the tail lights was broken and the tires were basically bald balloons. But it only had 26,000 miles on it and the drive train and body were in excellent shape - so we bought it, for about half what it was worth.
New tires, custom paint job, new top (and it needs another one now), exhaust system, a tune up or two, various and etcetera - and it turns a few heads. Especially with my stunningly attractive wife behind the wheel.
But, it's not a winter car. It's just too lightweight and too powerful to drive on icy roads, especially on Alaskan icy roads. So we put it away when the snow flies. I fill the tank with fuel preserver and and park it in the unused stall of the attached garage and disconnect the battery. And there it sits, forlorn, until greener days.
So, the weather. Sunny, beautiful, and etcetera. Monday my wife called and got the insurance reactivated and I charged up the battery. Tuesday I started the car and pulled it into the shop for pre-season maintenance. It was running rough, fuel injectors were a little gunky from sitting for the last six months, so I pulled the throttlebody, fuel injector bar, manifold and injectors and gave them all a good cleaning. Then I put every thing back together yesterday and it runs great.
This morning I washed and waxed the car in the shop while Vista installed SP1. Understand, I started the SP1 installation and went out to the shop, it was sprinkling just a bit and looked like it might clear up, so I figured I'd do a little woodwork while I waited for it to stop raining - then I figured I'd take the Mustang out for a test drive.
About an hour later I opened the bay door to find this:
No, that's not cottonwood fluff - that's giant flakes of very wet snow.
Try to imagine the words I was thinking right at that very moment.
So, no test drive. I shut the bay door and went back to turning. It'll clear up, said I to myself said I.
Four hours later, it looks like this:
Now I've got to go move stuff around in the shop in order to move the Mustang back far enough so that I can pull my truck in for the night.
And once that is done, instead of tooling around in the Mustang with the top down - I'll be getting the plow back out. 'Cause it's three inches deep out there, and still falling.
Oh, and we took the studded tires off the jeep last weekend, so my wife will be coming home tonight driving 60 miles from Anchorage through blowing snow with the summer tires on.
Peachy, just peachy.