The last ride

Unless we get lucky.

It was gorgeous here today...sunny, dry and up in the low 70's. One of those rare gifts of late fall.

Since Ziggy is on vacation this week and I had today off, we decided to take advantage of the day and take one last topless cruise.

The "perfect" convertible-driving temperature is about 80-85 degrees....any hotter than that and your brains feel like they're boiling. Anything below about 75 degrees and it can be downright chilly, especially if you're out on the road.

This past New Year's day, it got up to about 65...so we put on our coats, jumped in the Cruiser, put the top down, cranked the heat on 'high' and took a spin around town...just to say we did. Yea, people looked at us like we'd lost our mind. But hey...how many people can say they took a convertible ride on New Year's day...in Illinois?

There's just something special about 'going topless' when it's cool (below 70), though. You wear a jacket and you turn the heat on. I know...it sounds dumb. But it's a fantastic feeling. The closest I can come to describing it is sitting outside in a warm hottub on a cold day. It's almost sensual...nearly decadent.

We didn't take a long ride today...just across the river to the Burger Barge for a late, late lunch/early supper. But it was awesome.

On the way home, the sun was a deep, reddish-orangey-gold (yes, "orangey" IS a color) and was just starting to set. It turned the remaining now-brown leaves on the trees of the bluffs an intense shade of burgundy/purple. Coming back across the river, bellies full, feeling warm and cozy despite the chill, the water sparkled and shimmered like an unrolled bolt of silver-colored silk.

I wish I'd thought to bring the camera, but even with it's digital magic, I don't think it could have captured the exact colors. I think the only way to do it would be to paint it. Even then...even though I can still see the colors in my mind...I'm not sure I could get it right.

I think ya hadda be there. And I think you hadda be in a convertible with the top down to really see it.

We saw several other 'verts out on the road...but only one other "open-air worshipper" like us. When we see another 'vert out on the road on a gorgeous day with the top up, we call 'em pussies. There are a lot of 'em out there, too. I've never understood that. They'll buy a convertible and rarely ever put the damn top down. Why is that? What the hell is the point? Just to say they have one? Whoopee.

Pussies.

Just remember...if you happen to see a couple of whack-jobs in a convertible with the top down some unseasonably warm day this winter...be sure to wave.

It'll be us.