I got invited to ride along on a vintage car rally last week. My buddy Marcos takes his old Volvos out whenever he gets the chance, and spending Black Friday tearing around back roads in the wine country sounded like the perfect way to burn off some Turkey Day calories.
I spend somewhere near 40% of my waking hours obsessing over old cars. Usually, this obsessing revolves around an improbable American micro car from the midcentury period-- the Crosley. My fascination began with a quest to strip down my life by driving the world's simplest car.
Turns out that nothing is as simple as it seems.