Hedge end

The annual hedge cull has taken place. A great green giant of a John Deere attacked the hedges last night and made a rather good job of giving them all a number two trim. The result was however that the material the chipper failed to capture ended up all across the roads, not quite filling the potholes and not quite lining the edges. I first noticed the piece of debris I'd picked up when the radio sound suddenly developed a scratchy tone and Mark Radcliffe becomes distinctly distorted. I stopped and in the fading light found that I was dragging a six foot piece of bent willow underneath the real wheel arch and getting the same effect as a kid does when cardboard is shoved into the spokes of a bike.

I drove to Greenock today and enjoyed (?) the many miles of never ending roadworks that cut across the central belt like some huge piece of scar tissue. I don't recall it ever being any different, a perpetual parade of cones and high vis equipment that lines the road edge where fields, trees and houses should be - all sinking in an upturned sea of brown mud. At least Glasgow was clear for once and West of the airport the road on to Gourock was as peaceful as sunny Port Glasgow on a Tuesday morning.

Open roads closed

There are open roads out there, I have seen them, once in a while I may even get to drive on them but they are rare as are the open road moments. Necessity driving fills the time, the Tesco and taxi runs, the commute and the grind.

Today I enjoyed a brief period of escape from the compressions of time, some chill out moments accompanied by a vanilla milk shake and the bright and warm March sun as the F1 season opened in Dubai. I was gone and uniterrupted, the open road was open.

Uncomfortable

Two days and two nights in an airport car park, blank and anonymous, set in a garden of grey concrete and predominately silver cars, buried. There have been times when having returned to the car park it takes me at least twenty minutes to find the car. I think the car hides, trying to avoid me, enjoying the peace and the long snooze that I have inflicted, sleeping like a cat, deeply but fitfully. That's an uncomfortable thought.

Clean Car

I actually cleaned the car today, well the bit that's outside. God I'm good.

Cat v Cougar

For reasons best known to themselves our cats have chosen to behave in a fairly disrespectful way towards Mr Cougar when he's at rest. This takes the form of them spending their empty evenings running across the car, roof, bonnet, windscreen and general body work with dirty, muddy little paws. The completed effect is as above and below. The windscreen in particular suffered from this feline vandalism but it's hard to capture it in a photo with my crappy camera. Funny how you always look through windscreens and never at them - helps you not to crash I guess.

In the shop

Tinted close up.

Jacked up.

I had a spare twenty minutes this afternoon so I got the longstanding slow puncture cured. It was the usual problem with older alloys, corrosion around the rim edges causing a poor seal and giving me a tyre that needed pumped up every fortnight. I've lived with it for six months, now the pain over, at least until the next re-occurrence. I also indulged in the "what alloys would I buy if I had a spare £300" fantasy as I browsed around the waiting area. I settled for a quote for two new front tyres, sometime next month I'll do the business.

My blue heaven

I bought this gadget in New York, it keeps the ozone down, the vibes up and the cockpit ambiance at a nice level and extracts 38.7 mpg from the Cougar's computer brain, all for 25 Bucks. Of course I just like to think of that clear blue light watching over me and keeping me safe, always.

Tempted

OK so I was tempted by a Saab, then an Accord VVTi, a Prelude and an Alfa Romeo. Then I came to my senses and decided to stick with the Ford and all its flaws, faults and idiosyncrasies. It was only a passing thing, a moment of weakness and a lapse of reason. The mist has cleared and I remain calm and for the most part in control.

Splash continued

So the rain kept on raining, sometimes it rained as sleet, sometimes as snow, sometimes as a combination, sometimes as something altogether different. The wet patch on the floor remains, wet and squishy and the ongoing Turkish Bath effect continues. There is some comfort in the certainty that accompanies traveling with a known, if a little hard to pinpoint defect. Twenty minutes on the fast lane of our local motorway meant no let up in the spray but it did deal with the prospect of the steam. I await better and more civilised weather breaking out.

Splash

I made the fatal mistake of parking on a steep hill in Edinburgh, nose facing down a hill. Unfortunately I did this in torrential rain, it seems now to be not a good combination of things to do. When I returned to the car I found about an inch of water in the passenger foot well, a mystery leak has sprung from somewhere. The upshot of that is I now get extreme window fogging as the inside of the car turns into an equatorial rain forest when the (erratic) heating cuts in and the temperature rises. Doh! I applied some surplus sections of newspaper to the wet floor to mop up the wet mess. I am watching the weather and the foot well carefully.

I love ABS

But not so much in the snow when approaching T junctions. Yes back to slithering in the mornings and finding your feet. I failed quite magnificently to find mine this morning, falling on my behind in the slush and mud just as I'd popped the central locking. After the shock and awe was over I returned to the house to change out a rather muddy business suit and into a clean one. Great start to day, then a trail of sleet and spray all the way across the Forth Bridge and into the murky depths of Fife in Winter. Roll on Spring.

Tailgate

Tailgate under the thin moon.

As a driver I seldom tailgate and I hate it when somebody does it to me. Usually it happens on windy rural roads when your running at about 55, enjoying the camber and the tarmac rumble. Then a Mini, a Renault Clio or some rep-mobile will try to suck the exhaust straight out of your pipes by riding up your bum crack. Disrespectful and unnecessary. Once they do get past you a water bottle or some Burger King wrapping will usually come sailing out of the passenger window and bounce across the road.

Yesterday I witnessed a nutter in a Saab estate cut me off on the outside lane in order to drive alongside a Renault in the inner lane and, across the carriageway have a go at the driver. I've no idea what was going on but it was neither safe nor pleasant - it happened on the M9 near Grangemouth about 1130 Sunday 21st.