Hello all. I know, I know, it's been a long time since I've posted to this auto blog. I have excuses, some of which are plausible, but I'm too tire to get into that now. You see, I just got back from the annual Summer Nationals in Worcester, Massachusetts. It was, of course, a life altering experience! I'll have more pictures later, but here are a few teaser shots to tide you over.

This is my brother. His name is Nate and he's the only certified ADTRAN tech in the state. His company just went belly-up. Please, someone give him a job. He's very employable, really.

I know it's been a while since I last posted here. Sorry, seems I've been carried away with my new camera and the corresponding photo blog. So, here's some pics from the local airport. My pal, Cliff (the guy on the right), runs the place and spend his days wrenching on float planes and old Yugoslavian fighters. Not a bad life, eh?

Easter Antics

Today, I installed a steering column in the race rabbit. Do not be alarmed, the race rabbit has always had a steering column. It's just that the bushings in the original column - after more than 168,xxx miles - are, well, shot.

As fortune would have it, I happen to have a parts-car standing by for just such an occasion. By-the-way, my wife cringes every time I say the words "parts-car." Sometimes, when I'm feeling malevolent, I whisper the phrase into her ear while she's sleeping. Invariably, she awakes with a jerk, her protuberant eyes searching the bedroom as if the pariah, derelict-of-a-vehicle might actually be present in the house, stocking her.

Aside from inducing psycho-motor agitation, parts-cars are a veritable treasure trove capable of yielding rare or expensive components that might be otherwise unobtainable. It's like finding a little Spanish gold in your backyard - well, sort of. Please, check your local zoning regulations before acquiring your own parts-car.

Now, let me quickly tell you the story of how I acquired my parts-car. It was about seven-years-ago when I happened to be driving along the main road in North Springfield, Vt when I glanced to my left and beheld a mystifying vision. There, parked on a grassy side-lot, was a heavily oxidized, dun-colored '83 Volkswagen Jetta. On its windshield, tucked under a wiper blade was a scrap of cardboard emblazoned in black Sharpy with the words "4 Sale." If I recall correctly the "S" was written backwards. With great aplomb I halted my vehicle. In fact, the only thing I might have stopped faster for would be a bungee cord lying in the middle of the road. I love free bungee cords and it distresses me to see them so carelessly abandoned. Ask me someday, and I'll show you my collection.

Anyway, back to the story. Upon inquiring with the property owner I discovered that this gem-of-a-Volkswagen could be had on the cheap.

"50 bucks and it's yours, heck, if you can get it started I'll let it go for free," was the owner's offer. It seemed I would not need to barter.

"What's wrong with it?" I inquired.

"It doesn't have a battery and the mechanic says it needs a fuel pump," was the reply.

It just so happened that I had such a battery stowed in the trunk of my trusty Saturn. As for the fuel pump, turns out that the mechanic was mistaken. After installing the battery, I slipped behind the steering wheel and discovered that the fuel-pump relay had slid out of the fuse block. This malady was easily remedied and after two tries that little Jetta fired up. Did I mention it was free.

Back to the present. After installing the steering column from the parts-car into the race Rabbit, I decided that I would switch over all the lock cylinders from the parts-car so that I would only need one key for the Rabbit. See, due to a repair by the previous owner, the Rabbit has always had separate keys for each door.

Considering that I had swapped over the ignition block with key cylinder intact, I figured the rest would be easy. In fact, it was with little trouble that I was able to swap the door handles from the parts-car to the race Rabbit, however - and this is where things get a little, well, miraculous - the Rabbit is a hatch-back and the Jetta a notch-back. The locking mechanism for the hatch on the Rabbit is, of course, different from the Jetta's arrangements. Sure, I figured, I could swap the actual lock cylinders, but I was getting tired and the cold was starting to seep into my internal organs.

What the heck, I thought, let's see if the Jetta key will work in the Rabbit's hatch lock. After all, we've all heard those urban legends about people leaving the grocery store in a stranger's Chevy because the car was an exact match to there own-right down to the key. It's not until later, when they discover a kilo of cocaine or a dead Jimmy Hoffa in the trunk that they realize their blunder. But, that was the 70s. Still, you never know. So, with this in mind, I slipped the Jetta key into the Rabbit's hatch lock and, behold, it turned.

Of course, I proclaimed this a miracle. The fact that it was Easter, only lent credence to my claim. My wife, upon hearing my inspiring re-telling of the divinely-touched tale of Volkswagen repair, was nonplussed. She smiled broadly but said nothing.

"Are you smiling because you're happy that I've had such good fortune?" I asked.

"Oh no, " she explained, "I'm smiling because a few more parts have left the junk Jetta(what she calls the parts-car) and this is a sign that it may be going away someday."

I've launch a new blog. Check out my street photos at: http://sevencardanvtscenes.blogspot.com . Feed back is always welcome and, in fact, I even have one documented blog "follower." Woohoo. That proves it, I'm not just talking to myself.

Street Legal Airplane

What's this, you say, another dreadful entry about my flying car fantasy?! Ahh, say I, It's closer to being a reality than you think.

Earlier this month, Terrafugia of Woburn, Ma, conducted the first test flights of their "roadable aircraft" at the Plattsburgh, Ny airport (that's just across the lake from my humble hovel in ole St. A - which, I should add, is less humble now that we've ditched the old beige '70s stove for a new, state-of-the-art, duel-oven, glass top jobby with a digital read-out. Wow, who'd of thought a full set of working burners could make cooking so easy. I think we'll get one of those microwaves next.) Video of Terrafugia's first flight can be readily found on Youtube or at the company's website (www.terrafougia.com).

The best thing about the "Transition," that's what the folks at Terrafugia have dubbed their aero-car, is that it has been set up with the same controls that are found in a regular car. Just like the Chevy in your driveway, the driver sits on the left with the passenger to right. Naturally, the steering wheel, brake and throttle pedals are to be found in the usual places. I wonder if Terrafugia plans to make a right-seated-driver for the Brits.

Motivated by a 100 hp Rotax 912S engine that delivers power to the front wheels, the "Transition" runs on super unleaded(which, of course, can be sourced from any corner gas station) and is good for top speeds of about 65 mph. According to the company's website, this "roadable airplane" is capable of obtaining 30 miles-per-gallon at highway speed. Equiped with standard seatbelts, airbags and auto safety glass, the transition has been designed to meet the same safety standards as every other modern automobile. As for usable storage space, the "Transition" is not ideal for a jaunt to the grocery. The company states that it has trunk space large enough for skis, a set of golf clubs or a fishing pole - but not all these items at once.

On paper, these specs, modern safety standards aside, are about what I'd expect from my '74 Super Beetle.

That is, until the "Transition's" 27.5 ft bi-folding wings are deployed - via controls located in the cockpit - transforming this auto to aero in seconds. With the wings deployed, power is automatically re-routed from the front wheels to a rear mounted propeller. According to Terrafugia, the "Transition" can take off and land at any runway of at least 2500 ft. Thanks to Eisenhower, I can think of several Interstate stretches that meet this requirement - though the authorities might take issue with a stunt like that. In the air, Terrafugia's strange, little bird can sustain cruising speeds of 115 mph and has a range of 460 miles. This is it, this is the future.

Now, if I only had the $10 large to put down as deposit on the $194,000 final purchase price.