Scottsdale folks love cars They drive them pretty fast and pretty well on their wide flat roads. On any given day it’s not uncommon to find yourself at a traffic signal next to a white Bentley convertible, a lime green Lamborghini, a steel grey McLaren, or any number of
Scottsdale folks love cars They drive them pretty fast and pretty well on their wide flat roads.
On any given day it’s not uncommon to find yourself at a traffic signal next to a white Bentley convertible, a lime green Lamborghini, a steel grey McLaren, or any number of other rare birds. Mercedes, Ferraris, Porsches and Teslas are uncountable. And they all look like they just energed from a car wash. I don’t know how they do it.
Then there’s us, cruising among the beautiful people in their beautiful cars in our Plucky Corolla. The valets never park her by the front door, but we don’t mind. In a town where a million dollar car barely turns heads, we are in no position to compete.
The Plucky Corolla has carried us far. North to Grand Canyon, east to Santa Fe, south to the Mexican border. Now we’re taking a final trip together west to Los Angeles then up the Coast highway to Seattle where we will with some regret find a suitable buyer for our trusty, undemanding friend.
When we are back home and I’ve had a chance to sort through the zillion photos taken along the way, I’ll make a few posts about the journey.