B and C are for Bike Week and Classic Cars

Once in a while there is an advantage to procrastination. Sure. I need to double up on the posts to catch up (I mean that literally. A lot like this post), but it also means B and C can be about what happens when Bike Week and Cruisin’ on Central collide. Not literally, though. There was already enough traffic, smoke, screeching, and police presence.

Yesterday, I did something that made no sense to me. I trimmed my hair into Bettie Page bangs and took the train down Central Avenue in Phoenix, Arizona. I had no idea why. I had no idea where I was going. When the Park Central Mall stop was announced, I could hear a roar of an engine. Looking up, I saw one, then two classic cars driving by. My sleepy brain awoke and I realized what was going on. There was a second’s hesitation, then I was out those train doors and on the platform.

If you love cars, then you can imagine the euphoria I experienced when I smelled the air. Or, it may just be the engine fumes were getting me high. After all, it was starting to remind me more of sweet perfume and pine, rather than motor oil, after a while. Either way, I was  a little girl running around complimenting the cars, taking their photos, and asking about their stories.  I took one photo of a gorgeous green Ford when her owner asked if I wanted to have my photo taken, too.



One older gentleman kept riding around on his motorcycle. In a crowd of happy people, he was the happiest.  He stopped ahead of me and I said to a guy standing by me, “I really want to get a picture of that guy. He’s the happiest one here.” So, my wish was nearly granted. Only Harry (because that’s his name) said, “You don’t want a picture of me. My face would break your camera. How about you take a picture with the bike?” He steadied it, helped me on, and he and the other guy (his name was Larry. I couldn’t make these things up) tried to get me to make a mean biker face. It obviously wasn’t working out.



Especially, when I was so giddy happy about the atmosphere. Being about to sit on that vintage racer bike (Look on the side and it says Manzanita Raceway Phoenix, Arizona) made me giddy as can be.






The happiest place on earth is supposed to be Disneyland. To me, it’s a car show. I have, yet, to come across a car show where I didn’t see people smiling and happy to talk about what they love.

Classic Cars are like people. Not just because I compliment and talk to both. But, any car or person who has been around for decades has stories to tell. The cars that are highly polished I love to look at, but when I can’t touch it or it has to be gently handled with a soft duster, its beautiful, but not what I want.
My favorite car was this Caddy. 12417900_10154115142471477_938625279794665445_n

Rugged with potential, but not highly polished or untouchable. In fact, it’s perfect, as is. If I had the money, I would buy it right now. You can tell she has a personality. That’s best part. Perfectly imperfect in every way.

For more photos from April’s Cruisin’ On Central visit my Instagram at http://www.instagram.com/magicquillinc