As I sit here watching the end of the world “special” on ABC, I can’t help but think back to my days of living in Seattle. I used to take off and drive for an hour, two or three at least once a week, pointless but not aimless driving. And while not even close to the environmental consciousness drilled into me by my co-owner, Cory, of the Fremont Hemp Co., I’m happy to report I was driving the “Schmeagle” in 1995. None other than a prime Eagle Summit ES of 1993, 4-cylinder, 12 valve, 92 horsepower that got 40+ mpg on the highway. This was the car I chose to get my car allowance, having already purchased a 1992 Isuzu Trooper, before officially being given the account rep job for the Jeep and Eagle dealer ad group in Portland, Oregon. The car was the economic yin to my Trooper’s yang. It gave me safe refuge to roll up to the dealers but not enough to be completely manly. Replacing the original go cart 13″ 175s with 15″ 205 did the trick and after that people often confused the car for an Eagle Talon… ok like twice.
So, I lived in Seattle and would take off east across I90 and head up to Highway 2 or just wind my way through somewhere. While on the main highways or freeways, I noticed that everything looked green, full of life with large trees. But driving as I did in this car for over 93,000 miles before selling it, I sought the back roads, the twisties and the rallye two-tracks. What I found was clear cutting. Hillside mohawks that could make football jocks envious of goth chicks who still had a comb over. It was awful. There was no reforestation, just stumps. The Weyerhaeuser mill on the river had beautiful green banks up river, down river the shores were rock and sand. And the worse part, it was right over the hill from hundreds of thousands of drivers, hidden with no bunnies.