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one-cylinder has changed in tone, or when it
does not push us along very well. At those
times, Wake gets very quiet, sometimes hunched
forward as he concentrates. What he is trying to figure out is: What's wrong? He is waiting for this ancestral creation to communicate, or as he puts it, "talk to him." Neither of us is particularly chatty, but Wake apologizes for not talking. "My motors are turning. Don't mind me," he says. How well the 1899 is |
running is a large part
of our daily conversation as we sit about
six inches apart on a small, cushy bench. Over and over, we echo the same observations. "Running pretty good," one of us will say. "Yeah, running pretty good, all right," will be the reply. Then later: "Not quite right." "No, not quite right." It reminds me of two slightly addled guys sitting on a front porch. We are not alone, Ten Wintons left Public Square on June 15, with the newest |
a 1921 model. A 1903 died
the first day from transmission problem, but the
others continue with few, if any, problems. One amazing vehicle is the 1907 owned by the museum. With its 40-mph top speed and roomy interior, it shows the huge amount of progress Winton made in just eight years. But life is not entirely carefree for those with newer vehicles. Jim and Jan Winton are driving a beautiful yellow 1916 owned by Wake. One afternoon, following a road |
rimmed by a
nasty-looking marsh, Winton catches
a glimpse of the spare tire flying off and disappearing. There is no way he can easily find a replacement, so 90 minutes are spent searching in the gunky water and reeds, whacking the ground with sticks to scare away the snakes. Amazingly, the tire is found. The joys When the 1899 is in fine form, we are thrilled. It is enormous, but low-speed, fun chugging across the countryside, shamelessly |