4 posts tagged “mustang”

My little convertible Pony turned 130k this time out: still getting around 30mpg at highway speeds over the Continental Divide, canyons, and stopping fast for deer.
I passed an old pickup on a long uphill who had blown by me at over 90mph back on the flats- as I crested the hill my cruise control always takes a sec to realize we are going downhill and my speed floats up a bit- so I was now coasting at close to <.!.> when suddenly there were deer in the road just a few seconds ahead. I looked behind to see what I expected, the truck had crested the hill and thought we were racing (when actually my speed had been a constant speed set just below what MT State Patrol consider too fast- the hill had slowed the truck down to a labored 65 or so, but now he was wide open pointed downhill). I-15 is a wide two lane tarmac with a tall concrete barrier on the left that the deer couldn't cross. I was still in the left lane from passing the truck (and lining myself up to straighten out the upcoming corner) I sucked in as close to the inside rumble strip as I could, straightened her out and hit the breaks- the ABS kicked in and with no steering pull or even a shimmy from the car I was at a full stop quicker than I thought possible with a big eyed deer peeling out and falling down a few feet from my bumper. I had been sure I would eat at least one of the deer, and my bigger concern was the pickup coming up fast behind me- if he turned his wheel he would flip and sweep me and the deer from the road. The other few deer stopped short as I had suddenly materialized in the middle of them, and the truck blasted between them without having to blink. I sat idling on the highway, knowing there was no one else coming up from behind, while the deer finally got its skating hooves under itself and they all turned and bounced into the forest.

My little gal is out on the curb, forced to give her bedroom to her auntie. Ol' Auntie nearly had the neighbors calling about the noise as she rolled off of the flatbed. She is guarded by a wyrven of mouse ghosts, and the Ford F250 6.5 liter V-10 extended cab, full bed beast of a truck that pulled her all the way from Montana (till my sister claims it to run sheep- a cattle truck's nightmare, but nowhere near as disheartening as joining the metrosexual city-trucks).
I'll have my hands full for a bit, getting the old gal feeling pretty again. She may even warrant taking a trip to the spa for some professional monkeywrenching. By spring I hope she feels up to some Sunday driving with the top down...

The 64.5 Mustang, aka Mousoleum, was driven out of the garage, aka Mouse-Majal without having to tinker with the engine. The swather volunteered its new battery, a little gas was poured into the carbourator to prime the system, and she fired right up! The rotten tires were replaced with 4 used studded snowtires at $10per- good enough to roll out of the garage and get cleaned up. 30 mummified mice and all their mess filled two garbage bags, the shop-vac twice, and took a good deal of bleach and soap to exhume.  
My '95 pony lost the "nicest convertible top" portion of the show. But on a blue-highway section of Montana she did school a pair of Porches that were travelling together- flat outpowered a 196? Porshe356 that tried to keep me from passing, and lost the accompanying lead Porshce 911 convertible in a canyon. Not that it was the 911's fault- I would love to have traded cars for that stretch as my old gal is pretty soft in the corners, even with additonal welded undercarriage framing.
Real pony rides are even better than sporty cars. Rudy and I had a great time bringing in the herd for vaccinations and weighing. He is sporting my dad's newly refurbished saddle. He loves to move cattle, and is an athletic and smart fellow to work with.
The calves are separated from their mothers, and none to happy about it. They will be run through the chutes and given two vaccination shots, get a splash of worm meds on their back, and step onto a scale- it is on the dark side of twilight when we finish up and reunite them with their mothers.

The Black Angus are my father's purebred herd, and the red are his associate's Herefords.
The cows await reunion with their calves in the middle corral. The lawn is freshly mowed, as dad and I fixed the riding mower with a new starter motor and a fair amount of tinkering. The lawn had gone dormant in mid July- Aug, but greened up again with the Sept rain/sleet/snow.