bad colonies motoring cooperative

The Fiesta had taken a few good shots the day before and was now having difficulties with finding gears. In a stroke of genius Ford put the linkage arm between the shifter and the gearbox as low as the muffler, unprotected.

After an half hour of navigating the crater laced road, The General scooted off the side road and starting railing down a dirt path paralleling the main road. The convoy followed. When the roads get trashed enough, the Kazaks start making their own. I felt right at home on the dirt and the Fiesta was chewing it up. To be perfectly honest, we are driving the worst possible vehicles for this style of driving. That did not stop us from beating the living snot out of the cars and having a blast. For a day, it truly felt like we were rally drivers.

We had been making decent time, averaging 30 - 40 mph, when the Scamp went down with its first ailment in days. Something in the electrical system was faulting and blowing the fuse for the fuel pump. Some hasty and regretful wiring was performed and the Scamp fired back up albeit without lights and a few other essentials. About 30 minutes later, we were bombing down a dirt path when the Scamp skidded to a halt. We pulled up alongside, you could see the faint hint of smoke, the look of James and Neil face told the story. Game Over was all James said. After all the mechanical jerry rigging exercises, it was an electrical fire that ended the Scamp's run.