*Caution: Typo’s more than likely found within. Still posting from a moving vehicle and it’s getting very dark.
Herein lies the answer to why we drug this…
This trailer right here…
clear out here to the high plains…
It was to get this.
That’s the classic baling wire fix for an exhaust pipe and that….
is attached to this.
This guy here his name is Smokey Boese and back in September he had a ranch auction at his now sold place in Matheson, Colorado.
His son Mark, who’s one of Todd’s very best BFF’s, it’s true, I just verified that, went out for the auction to help his dad and while out there he bid on this 1971 Ford F250 Flatbed truck for us, well really for Jake.
Jake is now the very proud owner of of this rig..
Chrome Ladies and all.
The thing in the back is an old tool box that Mark bought for Jake. Nice guy that Mark. He’s not like he used to be. I remember a Thanksgiving spent on the road with him and Todd and a semi full of horses and equipment bound from Indiana to California. It’s seared in my memory…It’s a story for another time. Or not.
Alright, so here we have my ‘men’ taking off with the truck to go cruise the countryside.
While I was taking this very picture, Smoke said…”Looks to me like they ain’t coming back.” “Kinda looks that way don’t it?” I replied. I think I also said out loud, “They sure the heck better come back or I will hunt them down. Either that or I will go to Montana, I’m real close. Smoke then asked if Todd had his cell phone. I said that I was sure he did. Later, I found out that he didn’t have it with him and he figured if him and Jake broke down that Smoke and I would come looking for them.
Turns out they made it back fine and my loyalty wasn’t put to the test…loyalty to the West that is.
Also turns out that the breaks on the truck worked some better than Smoke thought they would.
Smoke was heard saying…”No guts, No glory. Right Todd?”
Rumor has it, Jake would have been as happy as a pig in poop if they were still driving around aimlessly.
But it was loaded successfully without pouting or hissy fit throwing…that may or may not have been me later when we turned East.
And East we did turn after this quick group photo of the F250 Men.
The ‘71 truck is following along nicely and we cannot seem get home fast enough.
But there will be one last sunset on a boy’s first truck in transit before we see Northern Michigan..
In complete contrast I keep wondering how we got here so fast. Wasn’t he just 4 last year?
p.s. I just remembered to tell you, not that you’d be the least bit surprised, that Jake really wanted to ride in his truck. You know just sit in there and practice “driving” while we trailered him down the freeway. Didn’t happen.