I used to enjoy canyon driving a lot. However, my wife and I moved to the southbay area of Los Angeles ( we used to be 12 minutes from Angeles Crest), and getting to the canyons are way too long of a slog through this:
https://i.imgur.com/EH8TaGo.png

So now my favorite driving is either in the passenger's seat of my wife's Audi Q5, or renting an 86 in Japan and driving either the touge or wangan.
https://i.imgur.com/7SLmG2G.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/H0TwKP8.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/1Gq8v6x.jpg

wtf?

Who raised this child.

I prefer rural Oregon highways; lots of corners, almost zero traffic, and beautiful scenery.

https://i.imgflip.com/39olm2.jpg

He's a great kid, just inexperienced. In hindsight it's a miracle that I survived my childhood.

Jordanwolf as a child - :iono:


humfrz

i tried wrapping myself in bubble wrap once. my brothers thought it would be fun to push me down a slide afterwards. i didn't put enough around my head.

Isn't it amazing how we lived through so many knocks to the nut and we're not any worse for it other than some scars.

you might not be any worse for it.

Noooo …… you don't say - :eyebulge:


:D


humfrz

REALLY?


humfrz

Denile ain't just a river in Egypt!

I once made wings by stapling sheets of paper to a couple long pieces of 1x2. I still remember jumping with complete confidence, the sight of the ground zooming up to me, and the pain of landing. I was five.

Me, age 5

I tried to do a superman off the garage roof into a pile of sand.

Slipped on takeoff, grabbed the edge of the rusty corrugated iron roof to try and recover.

Ended up hitting the sandpile with a cut on my hand that went from the tip of my little finger to my wrist.

Mother was not impressed.

To this day, 50 years later, there is thick scar tissue running down my hand keeping my little finger in a permanent curl.

Plus side is I can do awesome party tricks with it, if I put my hand palm down hard on a table and force the little finger straight, when you push down on the knuckle the little finger fires like a trigger mechanism.

Silver linings and all

At age 5, back on the farm, I was helping my father and grandfather paint the barns. We formulated (mixed) our own paint. My job was to stir the powdered lead into the paint mixture which was in 5 gallon cans. The powdered lead would puff up as I stirred in. I was dressed in nothing except a pair of shorts. I stirred and stirred and stirred ...and, where am I and WHO are you people? - :confused0068:


humfrz