Parked

Day 37: "Honey, do you remember where we parked the car?" I've had days when I wondered if this would be the fate of mine and have spent ten minutes wandering around a crowded parking lot looking for the kayak rack which I eventually remember I removed last week. My spatial memory fails me in the city, lamp posts and buildings not registering in my mind with any distinction. However, I remember clearly where this ancient vehicle was abandoned in the woods, just past the open grove of maples where the trail takes a 90-degree turn and abruptly becomes boot-sucking mud. How it got there is open to conjecture. The land on which it sits is administered by Cowlitz Wildlife now, but it may have been home to workers employed in building Mossyrock Dam at some point. Maybe when the project was completed, the owner left it behind, its wood-spoked wheels in too poor condition to take on the road. That's one theory, anyway. Any identifying insignias have been removed, but I suspect it is a Ford. Wasn't everything a Ford in those days (whatever "days" those might have been)? I wish it could tell me its story. I'm sure it must have seen some adventures, poor old thing.