R. S. Williams

All I want is to get the words right.

Tag: Vroooom (page 1 of 2)

Friday Photo: 6/9/17

“Red Truck Reflection”
Marietta, Georgia – 25 May 2017

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 3/29/17

“Waiting on a Train, Part 6”
Denver, Colorado – 1 March 2017

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 3/22/17

“Waiting on a Train, Part 5”
Denver, Colorado – 1 March 2017

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 3/15/17

“Waiting on a Train, Part 4”
Denver, Colorado – 1 March 2017

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Friday Photo: 3/3/17

“ARUX Danger”
LaGrange, Georgia – 20 November 2016

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 1/25/17

“Freight Bandit: You Never Knew, You Never Will (3/13)”
LaGrange, Georgia – 23 April 2015

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 1/18/17

“Fuel Door, Age 38”
Heard County, Georgia – 26 November 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Hillside Monday: 11/7/16

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“Toy Car with Carpet and Wall”
LaGrange, Georgia – 1 September 2016

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 9/28/16

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“Neither on the Road Nor in the Way”
LaGrange, Georgia – 24 August 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Permanently Parked

PermanentlyParked_COPY_2014-05-15

Heard County, Georgia – 10 May 2014

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Mile 61

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Thanks to W. B. Walker for identifying this as a railroad mile marker sign!

Anniston, Alabama – 23 June 2016

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 5/18/16

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“I Always Wanted to Live in an Old Caboose”
Pine Mountain, Georgia – 30 April 2016

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

‘Til His Wheels Fall Off

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Let me tell you something: I like a man with a hundred thousand miles on him. I like a man who’s been cross-country again and again on the long haul, on the short haul, down interstates and dirt roads. I like a man with a few scrapes along his fenders. I like a man whose windows have deflected a quarry’s worth of rocks, whose slightly busted windshield bears a long, wandering, starry thread running east to west.

I like a man with some wear and tear on him. I like a man who’s been in an accident or three, who doesn’t mind trading a little paint—a man who sees no reason to fear a bucket of Bondo. I like a man who isn’t so concerned for his delicate paint job and fancy chrome details that he’s too scared to roll down the driveway. I like a man who, when he really is too scared to roll down the driveway, puts on a new air filter, intakes a deep breath, and rumbles out anyway. I like a man who knows how to fix himself, who values what he’s learned by hammering out his own dents.

I like a man who’s run hot, spewed smoke, blown a gasket. I like a man who knows the metallic growl of his own stripped gears. I like a man who’s found himself coming down a 6% incline outside Monteagle with his clutch completely gone and his trailer brakes on fire and no emergency pull-off in sight. I like a man who’s been stuck in the mud up to his wheel wells, who’s had to sit there with the shame of knowing that he did it to himself. I like a man who recognizes, sitting there in the mud, that there is no shame in letting someone with a little more horsepower—and a 12,000-pound bumper winch—drag him back to solid road.

I like a man whose axle bearings sometimes sing high and ghostly of too-heavy loads, of too-light grease. I like a man who’s somehow wound up at the edge of the yard, as far from the house as possible, with FOR SALE, OR TRADE FOR TRACTOR scrawled across him in white shoe polish. I like a man whose odometer tells me that he has been driven, that he has been broken, that he has been repaired—that he has been loved.

He’d rather be scrap than admit it, but he wishes he were shiny and new. I don’t. Give me crumpled rusty panels, a short in the eight-track player, a hiccup under the distributor cap. Let me tell you something: I’ll drive him ’til his wheels fall off.

Photo: “Yes, It Still Runs” (Heard County, Georgia – 15 May 2014)

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

NOTE: I first posted this piece on 16 May 2014.

 

U.S. 27 Mirror

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Heard County, Georgia – 24 February 2016

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

1959 Corvette, 3/4 View

1959 Corvette, 3/4 View

Blue Ridge, Georgia – 18 June 2011

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Fuel Door, Age 38

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Heard County, Georgia – 26 November 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Hillside Monday: 1/18/16

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“DO NOT HUMP (Waiting Train 447)”
LaGrange, Georgia – 7 September 2012

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Buddy 50, with Reflections

Buddy50WithReflections_COPY_2015-11-08_14.22.54 HDR

Denver, Colorado – 8 November 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 9/16/15

NeitherOnTheRoadNorInTheWay_COPY_2015-08-24_15.26.15

“Neither on the Road Nor in the Way”
LaGrange, Georgia – 24 August 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Hillside Monday: 5/18/15

LincolnStreetCorvetteTTops_IG_COPY_2015-04-04

“Lincoln Street, Corvette T-Tops”
LaGrange, Georgia – 4 April 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

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