When we can look back at this year, 2020, I suspect that we will be happy just to have survived it. Those yet unborn, we hope, will wonder at how we did, while others might wonder at how we got it all so screwed up in the first place. Beyond coronavirus, all of us have had to endure, as Hirohito once said, the unendurable.
I have written before of my frustration with the lack of activity for myself and for the LBC (Little British Car) girls. I know that most people have felt much the same, and that many have had to deal with worse, so I am not whining. In fact, I have recently busted out, and I have taken Polly, Sara, and, of course, the dingo with me. In a few weeks, we are going to bust out again!
You may remember that last year, Polly and I traveled to Dripping Springs, Texas, for the annual gathering and convention of Vintage Triumph Register. While we were there, we made the acquaintance of some friendly Texas Triumph owners who were kind enough to include us in their social group and their activities in and around Hill Country. We were orphans at the gathering, the only representatives of our entire state and most of the region beyond. So again, I salute the South Texas Triumph Association.
In August, one of the STTA members paid me a visit in his TR8, a Wedge, as TR7s and TR8s are known to some. Others call them, affectionately, I think, British Doorstops. Anyway, it was an excuse to travel just a bit. Only daytrips for Sara and Polly, but it was the first real outing of any sort for them or for me since early March. I was grateful for the opportunity and the excuse.
Not being fools, Larry and I took our restaurant meals outdoors. As is required, we always masked while in public, and we maintained distance from others. Yes, it is odd, this “new normal,” but we survived, and you will, too. Making pub stops was tough. I have yet to devise any method of quaffing a brew whilst masked, and, as we are all aware, loud speaking and inadequate distancing are hazards of the pub scene. Our pub stops tended toward mid-afternoon affairs, after-lunch crowds and before the after-work troops. Problem solved.
On two of the days, Larry and I took our cars out for mountain-ish drives on the scenic paved secondary highways around home. We had no destination on either day, no schedule to meet, just the intent to enjoy driving a pair of British classics and enjoy some of the best and most varied scenery that God ever created. I have driven these roads many times, but I would pull over often just so Larry could appreciate what has become too easy for me to drive past already. Sadly, I missed a turn and the one picture that he had wanted to capture was lost. Next time…
I am not usually a worrier, and I am certainly not a hypochondriac, but I will admit to some uneasiness after any sort of outing these days. After a long weekend of outings, I was just that much more concerned. On the upside, it was a welcome interruption to my solitary life, so thank you, Larry, for the visit! I regret that the smoke from California fires left our usually clear, cerulean skies defiled and indistinct; you will have to return someday. But wait! There’s more! A few weeks after Larry’s return to the San Antonio area, I opened an email from the South Texas Triumph Association welcoming my new membership. Then, a few days later, I received a package from Lands’ End, sent to me by Larry. It contained my STTA club shirt with embroidered club logo.
Obviously, I will attend very few STTA meetings or events, and it had been my intent to join STTA at the first of next year, anyway, but it is nice to be included. Nicer still to be gifted with the initial membership. I have done my best to represent my San Antonio brethren, but that story will have to wait until the next installment of Life’s a TRip. Don’t miss it, because, at least for me, it is a highlight of this otherwise miserable year.
The girls and I wish all of you well. Be smart, be safe. Let’s have one helluva party when this (these?) plague(s) is (are) gone.
The rant: Where is the best place to get an aluminum foil hat?
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