"aberson Bresident of the FullyAssed Committe" (emaxxbl)
04/18/2017 at 09:08 • Filed to: None
7
2|
"aberson Bresident of the FullyAssed Committe" (emaxxbl)
04/18/2017 at 09:08 • Filed to: None | 7
| 2 |
BUT DAMN petrolicious has some amazing writers
This Tuesday morning’s highly caffeinated Morning Coffee original film
series serves up a hot-pressed shot of espresso in the form of a
sinister 1959 Triumph TR3A.
We find our focused petrolhead
protagonist, Stadler Patrick, standing roadside, looking out over one of
many idyllic valleys in the French countryside. As the day comes to
life in the early morning light, total silence is only interrupted by
the singing of birds and cool blowing winds—that is, until Stadler
marches with purpose to the driver’s door of his old British roadster.
The
crunch of gravel under his soles stops at the metallic click that
announces an open entrance into the cockpit, and a deliberate pull of
the low-slung door being shut precedes the less-than-sedate drive ahead.
Stadler’s demeanor makes it clear he’s on a mission to motor with
earnest enthusiasm. Settled into the saddle, he twists the key in the
center dash-mounted tumbler and gives the long pedal a jab of throttle,
abruptly awaking the inline-four cylinder to a chattering idle.
First
gear is engaged, the clutch is released in opposition of throttle
application, and forward motion begins as the needle in the rev-counter
climbs. Perforated brown leather driving gloves tightly encase the white
knuckles within, gripping the intricate black and polished metal
steering wheel. The pace quickens.
The Triumph’s sealed-beam eyes
spear warm light as the fender-to-fender-wide grille devours the
winding rural B-roads of Haut-Rhin in France’s greater Alsace area.
Banging up and down through the four-speed gearbox, Stadler locks up the
front disc brakes, killing the built momentum. Paused at a fork in the
road, our driver clenches his hands tighter around the wheel with the
distinct sound of distressed leather wrinkling under pressure. He
contemplates which path to take.
The snow-embanked route is
chosen after brief deliberation, and the spirited sprint continues.
After a scenic ascent up the mountainside’s ribbon of roadway, the
TR3A’s tires squeal out of view. This is driving. This is automotive
nirvana. This is better than the very best French roast money can buy.
Drive Tastefully®
pip bip - choose Corrour
> aberson Bresident of the FullyAssed Committe
04/18/2017 at 09:15 |
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an extra few minutes would be nice
CaptDale - is secretly British
> aberson Bresident of the FullyAssed Committe
04/18/2017 at 16:46 |
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I love their morning coffee series