There are some things you don’t expect to see when you seclude yourself deep in the woods for the weekend. Those things are:
- A cell-phone signal
- Air conditioning
- A perfect 1967 Ford Mustang GT500
This last weekend, deep in the forest of North Idaho and near the pristine shores of the expansive Lake Pend Oreille, my family and I saw all three. Plus, as an added bonus, a 1963 Corvette Stingray Split Window.
You’ve surprised me, Idaho.
We ventured into the wilderness with nothing but a tent and a cooler and the expectation to spend a few days away from the civilized world. We arrived at our camping spot and were surprised to see a decent cell signal. We also learned that “Pend” must be Native American for “a lot of,” while “Oreille” means “giant flesh-eating flying insects the size of the average human child.”
Some nearby campers had a fully optioned RV and arrived with all the comforts of home. Nice, I’m sure, but I’ll stick with my tent and industrial-grade mosquito netting. Why not just stay home, avoid the inconveniences of having blood forcefully removed from your body, and watch a documentary on the Idaho wilderness if you’re going to travel like that?
Despite our great intentions, modern civilization called, and we had to temporarily leave the wilderness and drive into the closest town, which happened to be hosting a classic car show. This was the last place I would have expected to come across so many cars that routinely sell for over $100,000. Yet I found myself, freshly emerged from the forest and covered in wood smoke, standing in the midst of Eleanor herself.
Had I known I’d meet her, I would have showered first.
Cars in this condition are rare enough, and to find such a pristine example on display in a small Idaho town made me remember why I love civilization so much. While admiring the impeccable Shelby, I turned my head to the left and saw this:
I instinctively buzzed toward the Corvette like a ravenous mosquito to skin. I tried to explain to my wife how amazing it was that we seemed to have crossed a magical line that transported us from the forest into some enchanted fantasyland, but she had already found a cooking store and was enthralled by a trivet.
On my way to the store a Porsche 550 Spyder commanded my attention, further solidifying the fact that I was no longer on a camping trip, but in some kind of coma induced by insect-related blood loss and probably on my way to the hospital.
After admiring the cars and taking as many photos as possible to prove to myself that it happened, I gathered my family, got back into our 7-passenger vehicle and crossed back into the forest.
What cars would you be thrilled to see when you’re least expecting them?