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•••••NOVEMBER 08, 2023•••••
Bench Seats Northern Minnesota is somewhat known for cold weather, but what is cold? Cold is nothing more than an opinion. For example, since moving to the north shore, the coldest day I’ve experienced was thirty-eight degrees below zero; admittedly, that is cold. However, my family members who live in Oklahoma and Texas tell me sixty degrees is cold – forty degrees is considered frigid. Pish posh. The upper-forties is still T-shirt weather if the sun is shining. Cold is just an opinion. It was 18 degrees at 7:30, the first chilly morning of the fall season. I had an appointment in Duluth, and Melissa had to work. I thought I would be a nice guy and start my wife’s car for her, so I grabbed her keys on my way out the door. There was frost on her windshield, but if her car ran for fifteen minutes, the defrosters would clear the glass. I didn’t need a key to get in or to start the car. As soon as I was close, the door would automatically unlock. I pushed the button, and the Subaru motor started. The automatic headlights came on as it was still dark outside. I turned on the defrosters and seat warmers. Out of habit, I pushed the button to lower the driver’s window just a few inches in case I locked the keys in the car. Her car would be nice and toasty when she was ready to drive to work. Next, I started the truck, Willie. (Just the Other Day cont’d on pg 4)
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up and fully alert. A minute later, another buck appeared from the other side of the field. He was also a ten-pointer but was a year or two older and bigger. The two bucks walked slowly toward each other, looking like a fight was imminent. They got to within a few feet of each other, sizing up the opponent with necks arched. At the second, the smaller of In Their Territory last the two turned and calmly walked away. It was if he Saturday morning had been in that situastarted very early. Shortly tion before and thought before 3 AM, Billie, the the better of getting into a poodle, got up from his fight he could not win. bed at the foot of our bed An hour or so and made a quiet, “woof”. later, the swans that had He never barks or even been swimming lazily woofs in the middle of around the lake decided night unless something to take off to graze a local is going on. I sat up in corn field. About fifteen bed and listened. I could of them lined up, facing hear a coon hound baythe wind, trumpeting, and ing not too far away. I bobbing their heads. We did not think too much of went outside to watch it until I saw headlights the show. As though on sweep past the bedroom cue, they all started runwindows. It was only then ning across the top of the I remembered, our grand- water while flapping their son, Zane said he would wings. Their big flat feet be hunting raccoons in smacked the surface of our area. Hoping he was the water as they tried having good luck, I told to gain enough speed to Billie to go back to sleep become airborne. In flight, as I immediately returned they circled by the house to my deep sleep. as though to say, “see you A few short later.” hours later, my wife and I It was then we were getting around and noticed two eagles on the trying to wake up. Pouring far side of the lake. An us each a cup of coffee, adult and a juvenile eagle she noticed a buck deer were eating something just below the house in in an open grassy area. I what we call the calving guessed it was a raccoon pasture. He was a mature Zane had left for them ten-point deer, probably during the night. They four years old. I went to would eat for a while and the kitchen to watch him. take a break by circling He walked with his head over the lake, sometimes
stopping on the shore to get a drink. They would then fly back to their lunch and continue feasting. Later in the day, my wife again noticed two bucks in the calving pasture. This time, it was two yearling spike bucks. They each had antlers three to four inches long and were evenly matched in size. They decided to fight it out. Neither was sure of what they were supposed to do, but they were going to fight anyway. They rubbed their heads together and clicked their little antlers against their opponent’s. They slowly and carefully “fought” for quite a while before deciding, it did not really matter who won. Neither of them was going to have breeding rights this year. At about eight o’clock that evening, I opened the door to let Billie out to make his evening rounds. I was greeted by a chorus of coyotes howling and yipping from several directions. It sounded like six or eight across the lake where the eagles had been eating. There were also several down by the dock on this side of the lake. Billie decided to call it a night. Whatever he was planning to do could wait until morning. It was a full day of watching and hearing the wildlife. We live in their territory and our presence does not seem to bother them at all. For the most part, we rather enjoy them also.
NOVEMBER 08, 2023
NOVEMBER 08, 2023
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NOVEMBER 08, 2023
(Just the Other Day cont’d from pg 1)
Willie is a 1971 Ford F-250 Camper Special. The cold vinyl seat felt brittle as I sat behind the steering wheel. I manually rolled the window a little so my breath wouldn’t fog the windshield. As soon as I close the driver’s door, the dome light shuts off; Willie is unlike the newer cars that give you sixty seconds of courtesy lighting. The older Ford truck’s ignition is on the dash, to the left of the steering wheel column. I am not left-handed, so I struggled in the dark to find the keyhole and get the key into the ignition. (Now I understand how lefties feel in a righthanded world.) I finally succeeded. Willie’s motor is not fuelinjected, so I depressed the gas pedal once to activate the automatic choke. When I turned the key, it did not fire immediately, so I gave the gas pedal two pumps, turned the key again, and vroom! The engine was running. She’s a bit cold-blooded, so I had to work the gas pedal for a few moments to keep it running. Once the engine smoothed out, I pulled the switch to turn my parking lights.
from my body. My back stayed pretty warm, insulated by my layers: T-shirt, flannel shirt, and jacket, but with just a thin layer of denim between my bottom and the seat, my tushy got cold fast! I shivered. I fastened my lap belt (no shoulder belts in an old truck), manually turned on the headlights, and then pulled out onto the street. Willie’s 390 big block motor really generates the heat. By the time I reached the stop sign at the bottom of the hill, less than a mile away, Willie was blowing out nice, warm air. The cab was quickly warming up, so I let my coat come open again.
the vent. There was still a cold breeze. The passenger’s side vent was also open. The cab is so wide I cannot safely reach the far side to close the vent while driving. I turned into the rest area at Tettegouche State Park and closed the vent. Once back on the highway, I watched the steam pouring from the tailpipes again. I think that is so cool.
A big truck was coming from the opposite direcWillie’s red tail lights tion. Willie doesn’t have glowed on the white van a little blue headlamp parked behind me. In the picture on the dash. The rearview mirrors, I could driver has to know what see spurts of steam comthe small red square under ing from each tailpipe on the 50 on the speedomthe dual exhaust, keeping eter means. I don’t have perfect rhythm with the As I turned onto the high- dimmers to turn off the motor. In the soft green way, I rolled up my driver’s high beam, so I dim them dashboard lights, I could manually with my left window. In the street see steam from my own foot using the high beam lights, I watched steam breath. switch mounted on the bellow from the tailpipes. floor. Willie has no electronic Although the cab was button to push, moving warm, that hard plastic The truck passed, kicking digits up or down for the steering wheel was cold up a mist that splattered heat. Instead, I slid the on my hands. I should my windshield. I pushed lever to the right, adjusting have brought gloves, but the washer button, which the heat from cold to hot. I didn’t. Instead, I pulled does not automatically I slide another lever to the one sleeve over the end right to divert the airflow of my hand and then held turn on the wipers. I twisted the knob, letting the from the floor to defrost. the wheel. That felt much wipers clear the window, Turning the fan motor to better. As I accelerated then twisted the knob to high created a wind chill to highway speed, there inside the cab. was a cold breeze blowing shut the wipers off again. through the cab. The mist turned to a very I pulled the front of light rain. Not enough to my jacket closed, then The windows were rolled crossed my arms, putup, and the wing windows have the wipers on, but too much to not use the ting my hands almost were closed and latched into my armpits to keep tightly. Where was the cold wipers. Since Willie does them warm while the truck air coming from? “Ah, the not have delayed wipers, I warmed. The cold vinyl fresh air vents.” I reached have to keep turning them on and off manually. This seat worked like a heat for the lever on the side sink, drawing the warmth wall by my feet and closed went on for the next twen-
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noying little light that’s on most of the time on many cars. However, Willie does have a tire pressure gauge in the glove box. I can check the tire pressure and add air if needed. When my ‘71 Ford was built, a driver had to know how to operate the vehicle. But drivers were changing; many people did not understand how to read the gauges. I seriously doubt very many new drivers could handle an old car.
ty miles. When I reached Two Harbors, the rain let up, and the steering wheel had finally warmed up, too. I was listening to sports scores on the old radio. Once I got closer to Duluth, I used the push button, then turned the knob to fine turn the dial to AM 710 to catch Brad Bennet’s Sound Off program. When I reached my destination, I parked the truck. I had to remember to turn the headlights off because Willie didn’t have a bell to remind me. I don’t worry about locking the keys in the car with Willie because I have to use the key to lock the door from the outside. As a matter of fact, there are no bells or buzzers for anything: not the lights, keys in the ignition, not even an annoying seatbelt dinger! There are not even warning lights on the dashboard! Willie has an oil pressure gauge, not a little red oil can light, and an engine temperature gauge, not a check engine light. I appreciate that Willie does not have a TPM (tire pressure monitor), the an-
Not long after Willie was built, car manufacturers replaced engine gauges with “idiot lights.” The meaning of the name was obvious (to most). Not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings, those idiot lights are now called “indicator lights.” A rose by any other name… But I digress. One of the coolest things about cars of Willie’s generation was the bench seat. Except for the Corvette, Mustang, Jeep, and a few sports cars, almost all cars and trucks had a front bench seat. It was nice having your girlfriend sit close, with your arm around her shoulder. Because most older cars were six-passenger, there were three front seat belts. Some would say the older vehicles caused the driver to be distracted with so many things to do manually, especially with your best gal practically sitting on your lap. So, we added a center console to separate those love birds and cars became modern to eliminate driver distractions. It seemed to be working until we gave drivers that big touch screen in the middle of the dashboard. Then, added the ability to connect the car to the world with a cellphone and blue tooth. But (no pun intended) at least our bottoms stay warm.