Why would it matter if you made it up....I am assuming most of this is made up......I love historical fiction!
Saving The Old Rustbucket--My 1982 FJ40 Tale
- Thread starter Sea Knight
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I've been asked by a MUD fact checker if the New Mexico road block girl really had Moose Drool AND Left Hand Milk Stout, or if I made that part up.
Here's the truth. She had most of a 12 pack of Moose Drool and only one LH Milk Stout. Being the gentleman that I was, I drank the Milk Stout for her. It was gettin' warm and I was afraid it might have gone bad.
Haha..I'm a fact checker now?!
That's a nice way of pointing out that I suggested you might be lying or at least embellishing the story.
I do stand corrected though and should never have doubted your integrity.
It is a great story and happy to read you caught up with the 40.
- Thread starter
- #223
No embellishing yet, but I'm glad you think so. That'll make the rest of the tale seem more believable. The lying begins when I have to write a sanitized version of the end of this chapter.
cruel....another to be continued
agomez
Frijoles
40's are babe magnets, it must be the rough ride.
yooper
SILVER Star
No sanitizing! 
the fact checkers are watching....
the fact checkers are watching....
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I would rather see " to be continued" then "THE END"
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Sent from my iPhone using IH8MUD
- Thread starter
- #229
Ah, if you say so.
No sanitizing!
"The better part of valor is discretion." --Henry IV
No worries. There's plenty more to this tale. The Turtle hasn't even broken down yet.
Soundtrack for the last chapter....
Townes Van Zandt - White Freight Liner - YouTube
and
Townes Van Zandt Colorado Girl Live - YouTube
Slaving away on the conclusion of "Danger, Will Robinson" as we speak. Hopefully done and posted this weekend.
Ah, if you say so.
"The better part of valor is discretion." --Henry IV
No worries. There's plenty more to this tale. The Turtle hasn't even broken down yet.
Soundtrack for the last chapter....
Townes Van Zandt - White Freight Liner - YouTube
and
Townes Van Zandt Colorado Girl Live - YouTube
Slaving away on the conclusion of "Danger, Will Robinson" as we speak. Hopefully done and posted this weekend.
Very nice.
Ok, not to get this off track of the tech elements, but I did have to include this.
Heartworn Highways. Townes Van Zandt. - YouTube
- Thread starter
- #231
Not off track at all. Cruiser road music tech is important.
Trivia: That video was filmed in the Clarksville section of Austin. That's Susannah Clark, Guy's wife. She was a hot hippie chick, back in the day. Thanks for posting.
Carry on.
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How do you pay back a man that in several days, has started the healing that the decades have piled on? I hope that the telling of your story brings comfort to you a hundred fold. Your journey has had a epic inpact.
Thank you for your service.
Thank you for your service.
- Thread starter
- #233
For Rustbucket Thread Addicts
Hey everyone, I appreciate your PM's, even those complaining about leaving you hangin' in suspense at the New Mexico roadblock. Not being a professional, I don't have an outline and in case you haven't noticed, I don't write in a linear fashion. Writing, for me at least, is like doing your first Birf job without the benefit of an FSM. I'm figuring it out on the fly. Be assured that the story is coming right along and the Colorado mystery girl isn't goin' anywhere until I say so.
Thanks to my cuz 1911 for helping out with locations and photos. Cause this tale is nothing if not accurate, right?
Back to writing. Stay tuned for beer opener tech and some other helpful stuff.
Hey everyone, I appreciate your PM's, even those complaining about leaving you hangin' in suspense at the New Mexico roadblock. Not being a professional, I don't have an outline and in case you haven't noticed, I don't write in a linear fashion. Writing, for me at least, is like doing your first Birf job without the benefit of an FSM. I'm figuring it out on the fly. Be assured that the story is coming right along and the Colorado mystery girl isn't goin' anywhere until I say so.
Thanks to my cuz 1911 for helping out with locations and photos. Cause this tale is nothing if not accurate, right?
Back to writing. Stay tuned for beer opener tech and some other helpful stuff.
Good stuff. Keep it coming. Thanks! I also appreciate the tech info on 40 fuel tank capacites.
- Thread starter
- #235
Danger Will Robinson, AKA The Colorado Girl--Part Two
Some years ago I read an article about the best unknown American beers. It was an opinion piece by a regular person, not a beer critic, a top ten list of non-national brews the author had run across in the course of his travels. It may have been one of those forgettable airplane magazines that you read out of desperation when there's nothing else handy, but I remembered the piece because the only two beers listed that I hadn't tried were Moose Drool and Left Hand Milk Stout. The writer had stumbled across Moose Drool on tap in a little Montana pub, and raved that it tasted so fine that he almost burst into tears after the first sip. Neither beer was available in Texas at the time but I'd later managed to taste both on a road trip to Alaska. Moose Drool didn't make me cry, but I had to admit it was definitely worthy. Both of them were.
Blonde pony tail girl comes walking back to The Turtle and opens the passenger side door. She says,"You smoke?" I say "No," and she kinda nods, like she's saying to herself "That works." She has a leather bag over her shoulder that looks more like a saddlebag than a purse, and she's carrying one of those little soft side coolers. She drops her saddlebag on the floor in front of the seat, unzips the cooler, pulls out two longnecks and opens them on the door striker. Hmm, not her first rodeo. She holds out the longnecks, one in either hand. I don't respond immediately; I'm still trying to figure out what's going on. Now I haven't mentioned this before, but I'm a savant when it comes to knowing what women are thinking, and right away I know exactly what she's thinking: "I may have made a mistake here. This guy is too dense to see that I'm offering him a beer." Finally she breaks the silence.
Her: "Moose Drool or stout? This is milk stout. Last one. Pick your poison."
Me: "Stout, if you don't mind."
Her: "Take it."
Being the gentleman that I am and not wanting to offend, I take the stout from her hand and whadda ya know, it's a Left Hand Milk Stout. She's obviously a woman of good taste and refinement. She places the cooler behind the seat, climbs in, closes the door, takes a long pull on her Moose Drool. Another lengthy silence, Townes singing...
Her: "Texas?"
Me: "What?"
Her: "Your license plate."
Me: "Oh, Yeah, Texas."
Her: "Aggie?"
Me: "What?"
Her: "Your shirt."
I look down and see that I'm wearing an old Texas A&M t-shirt.
Me: "Oh, yeah. I'm an Aggie. Or was."
Her: "They have an excellent vet school."
Me: "Yeah, so I hear."
By now it's now obvious that we're both scintillating conversationalists.
Her: "Those boys in the Rover were hassling me. Started back at the rest stop."
Me: "Want me to talk to them?"
Her: "No, they're harmless. I took care of it."
Me: "Oh?"
Her: "Yeah, I told them I was with you."
Uhhhhh....
I take this opportunity to get a closer look at my new traveling companion. I'm not good at guessing ages of the fairer sex. Thirty feet away I have trouble distinguishing late teens from thirty somethings, and from a distance I'd assumed she was a college age coed. Close up I can see that she's no teen, and likely not even twenties. She's tall, probably five ten in boots, slender but not skinny, athletic looking, like one of those beach volleyball players, and her hair is more light brown than blonde, maybe a dirty blonde, although it had looked blondish under the sun. Some kind of subtle accent that I can't quite place, a twang more than an accent. Nice white teeth, green eyes, no makeup, silver and turquoise earrings, silver bracelet. She has little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth, smile wrinkles, and a hoarse raspy sounding voice, one of those naturally throaty voices that Mickey Spillane once described as being enough to make a Bishop kick in a stained glass window. That kind of voice.
Her: "By the way, I'm Gayla."
Holy Batman! Here we go again. Gayla was the name of my one and only true love from junior high. She was tall, with dirty blonde hair and a raspy voice. She was the one that got away. The first one anyway. Her family moved to California following the ninth grade and we lost touch, but I later heard that she played volleyball for UCLA. Probably beach volleyball too. Time for another appearance from Rod Serling. De de de duh, de de de duh...
"There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition. It lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone."
Echoed voices in the night
She's a restless spirit on an endless flight
Woo hoo, witchy woman
See how high she flies
--Don Henley
She's a restless spirit on an endless flight
Woo hoo, witchy woman
See how high she flies
--Don Henley
Some years ago I read an article about the best unknown American beers. It was an opinion piece by a regular person, not a beer critic, a top ten list of non-national brews the author had run across in the course of his travels. It may have been one of those forgettable airplane magazines that you read out of desperation when there's nothing else handy, but I remembered the piece because the only two beers listed that I hadn't tried were Moose Drool and Left Hand Milk Stout. The writer had stumbled across Moose Drool on tap in a little Montana pub, and raved that it tasted so fine that he almost burst into tears after the first sip. Neither beer was available in Texas at the time but I'd later managed to taste both on a road trip to Alaska. Moose Drool didn't make me cry, but I had to admit it was definitely worthy. Both of them were.
Blonde pony tail girl comes walking back to The Turtle and opens the passenger side door. She says,"You smoke?" I say "No," and she kinda nods, like she's saying to herself "That works." She has a leather bag over her shoulder that looks more like a saddlebag than a purse, and she's carrying one of those little soft side coolers. She drops her saddlebag on the floor in front of the seat, unzips the cooler, pulls out two longnecks and opens them on the door striker. Hmm, not her first rodeo. She holds out the longnecks, one in either hand. I don't respond immediately; I'm still trying to figure out what's going on. Now I haven't mentioned this before, but I'm a savant when it comes to knowing what women are thinking, and right away I know exactly what she's thinking: "I may have made a mistake here. This guy is too dense to see that I'm offering him a beer." Finally she breaks the silence.
Her: "Moose Drool or stout? This is milk stout. Last one. Pick your poison."
Me: "Stout, if you don't mind."
Her: "Take it."
Being the gentleman that I am and not wanting to offend, I take the stout from her hand and whadda ya know, it's a Left Hand Milk Stout. She's obviously a woman of good taste and refinement. She places the cooler behind the seat, climbs in, closes the door, takes a long pull on her Moose Drool. Another lengthy silence, Townes singing...
My friends they all agree
There ain't many a fool like me
I just tell them wait and see...
There ain't many a fool like me
I just tell them wait and see...
Her: "Texas?"
Me: "What?"
Her: "Your license plate."
Me: "Oh, Yeah, Texas."
Her: "Aggie?"
Me: "What?"
Her: "Your shirt."
I look down and see that I'm wearing an old Texas A&M t-shirt.
Me: "Oh, yeah. I'm an Aggie. Or was."
Her: "They have an excellent vet school."
Me: "Yeah, so I hear."
By now it's now obvious that we're both scintillating conversationalists.
Her: "Those boys in the Rover were hassling me. Started back at the rest stop."
Me: "Want me to talk to them?"
Her: "No, they're harmless. I took care of it."
Me: "Oh?"
Her: "Yeah, I told them I was with you."
Uhhhhh....
I take this opportunity to get a closer look at my new traveling companion. I'm not good at guessing ages of the fairer sex. Thirty feet away I have trouble distinguishing late teens from thirty somethings, and from a distance I'd assumed she was a college age coed. Close up I can see that she's no teen, and likely not even twenties. She's tall, probably five ten in boots, slender but not skinny, athletic looking, like one of those beach volleyball players, and her hair is more light brown than blonde, maybe a dirty blonde, although it had looked blondish under the sun. Some kind of subtle accent that I can't quite place, a twang more than an accent. Nice white teeth, green eyes, no makeup, silver and turquoise earrings, silver bracelet. She has little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth, smile wrinkles, and a hoarse raspy sounding voice, one of those naturally throaty voices that Mickey Spillane once described as being enough to make a Bishop kick in a stained glass window. That kind of voice.
Her: "By the way, I'm Gayla."
Holy Batman! Here we go again. Gayla was the name of my one and only true love from junior high. She was tall, with dirty blonde hair and a raspy voice. She was the one that got away. The first one anyway. Her family moved to California following the ninth grade and we lost touch, but I later heard that she played volleyball for UCLA. Probably beach volleyball too. Time for another appearance from Rod Serling. De de de duh, de de de duh...
"There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition. It lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone."
Gayla deposits her empty in the cooler, pulls out another Moose Drool, and starts talking.
To be continued....
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yooper
SILVER Star
Holy Batman indeed. I need a beer now. I have two (2) LHMS left in my beer cellar....
Now there's some tech! I gotta finish up my 1/2 doors I'm making out of some original hard doors so I can put the stock strikers back on. I had no idea they doubled as bottle openers. Keep it coming!
That's some excellent tech right there!
Good tech! Great story! Glad I found this thread, keeping me entertained while I recover from foot surgery on the couch!! Keep it coming!
Holy Batman indeed. I need a beer now. I have two (2) LHMS left in my beer cellar....
View attachment 595156
Milk stout is so passe now.. you need to have the Nitro...
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