[Karen]

Found: near Sauk Store Road. Karen

[Backpacker Joe]

I'll buy it if YOU'LL deliver Miss. karen! TB

[Karen]

of your vehicles, all the NW Hikers, all the kings horses and all the kings men, AND your plane to get THAT baby out of the woods. but if anyone could get it in shape again I bet you're the man. Karen

[Bushwacker]

If access is a problem, maybe this fine vehicle could be an option. What do you think, TB? FS 62 near Mt. Persis TH. BW

ORV-Slightly used

[polarbear]

"1986 Grand Cherokee, Orange, very few miles (mostly driven on weekends). Unique glassless windows and angled passenger doors. Runningboards, possibly on both sides. Custom lowrider. Has been in cold storage last several years. We will provide rustproof undercoat and Scotchguard free as part of sale. Requires a few belts and hoses but with a little TLC she'll be purring like a kitten on warm milk. Driver must be shorter than passengers. Will make a good mountain car for someone. $2599 OBO."

[Newt]

Just about every vehicle I've ever owned has been stolen and not located. Until now. Thanks for finding them, but really, they are of no use to me now. NN

[polarbear]

Hey, look how far that car made it, all the time while it was slowly falling apart. It can't be that bad. Most cars would have died in the city and never made it that far. I had a car stolen two years ago. It was found in a field in Federal Way. The doors were gone, the hood was gone, the trunk lid was missing, the radio was gone. If it was rusty and if it had been left in the woods it could have been any mountain car. As it was, it was in a field with the engine still running! The police called me and asked if I wanted to come out and pick up my car. I think the police at the station didn't have as good of a view of it as those who found it in the field. It's pretty strange seeing your car with everything gone.

[Karen]

My first car was a Ford Pinto (I didn't learn to drive until I was muddle-aged) -- used. Six weeks after I got my driver's license I happily drove down Greenwood Ave North to pick up a friend to hike the Suiattle River trail. I'm still not sure what happened but I heard and felt a crash (it was very early in the morning) and my first thought was a dumb one "hit and run?" Made no sense but when things happen fast things don't make sense sometmes. Apparently the accident was my fault because I was the one who got the ticket (even though the guy ran into me). Amazingly, my car looked pretty messed up but it was still running and the radio playing so I continued driving to my friends house for the hike. I let him drive. I had such an odd reaction, though. I kept bursting into tears and as I have mentioned before, tears do not come easily for me and they never come at the right time. Kept trying to hike and I kept breaking down and weeping like a little kid. Got back to Seattle, drove home and as I drove home with the mangled car it squeaked and jittered so I named the car "Squeak". At that time I was poor and couldn't afford to make all the repairs so I drove the car with big dents and one mis-matched fender. My daughter told me the car looked like a torpedo. The car ran for several more years and broke down several times but always broke down in a place where I was able to make a phone or get help (this was BC -- prior to cell phones). The car never let me down. It finally got so bad I had stop driving it and I tried to sell it. No one would take it. Finally sold it to a wrecking yard for $40. When they came to drive "Squeak" away I burst into tears again. The next car was the "middle-aged secretary" car, a used Cutlass Supreme that had more things wrong with it than "Squeak". This car really stood out at trailheads. It was downright embarrassing -- I'd drive up to the trailhead and there would be a row of Subarus and Jeeps and big "northwest-looking" cars and then there'd be my Cutlass Supreme. But the Cutlass made it to the Bedal Creek trailhead (it over-heated, of course, on the steep road). That car died too and I sold it to a teenager who was smitten with it. And there are other cars but I won't ramble on any more. But perhaps this is why I have such a fascination with old cars, trucks, and pieces of machinery I can't even identify. I find an odd beauty in such treasures. Karen