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Thanks guys. It's just a crappy old Nikon D200. Big Grin The colours are helped by using a polarizing filter on the lens, something that's not easy with a point-and-shoot digicam. Note that the last shot used a long telephoto lens, for which I don't have a polarizer and the colours are not as rich.
Thanks, Rob & Coz. Wayne: why didn't your buddy join us in Kingston?

Nice shot Gary. I'm not sure if I like the small-wheel look on a Pantera. I think you might need to check the wheelbase too... Big Grin

Looks like you're going to have a really great looking car when you're done and judging by the scenery, some great fall photos to post next year. Good luck with the resto.
No, unfortunately not my house. It's the old war museum building, on Sussex Drive, now sitting empty. It was one of those "Hmmm, no one's around so if I sneak down the access road I can get into the plaza and take some pics" moments.
Lots of room too, would be a great place to have a car event. But getting official permission would be next to impossible, I'm sure.

Here's one more with a bigger view of the place:

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Thanks Mark,

They're not up to the standard of your pics, but I'm getting a little better with the camera.
Regarding public documentation, well, as long as Bohdan doesn't say anything I should be ok - I think he's the only federal employee that will see it. And the building is about 90 seconds from my parking garage so I figured I can outrun any snowflakes if need be.
It was actually pretty funny as some homeless guy was standing by the lane having a smoke and I asked him about the minor trespass - he said "Go for it!" So based on majority rule he stood guard and I took pictures.

BTW, what is your secret road? I'm guessing Hazeldean south of Kanata, somewhere around there?
The sun came out. Finally, a beautiful bright and crisp fall day. With nothing to do for a while, I jumped in the Pant and headed toward the mountain (Mount Royal - where Montreal gets its name). I found a sweet orange leafed maple, no wait… a fiery, red flamer dancing in the wind. Whoa! Such choices.

I carefully edged over a low spot in the broken sidewalk and rolled carefully onto the grass, parking under a beautiful tree with a brilliant blue sky and mountain behind it.

F&*#! No camera!

I blasted home, making notes about a few other great looking trees and photo locations as I passed the cemetery overlooking the city.

Got home. No camera. Nowhere. Checked every car. No freakin' camera. Checked daughter #1's room. Every possible electronic device ever invented, wires like a spider web, but no camera. Texted her in class - she had it with her. Daughter #2's room. Every cosmetic and electronic product under the sun but no camera. Texted her at work - showing pics from last night's Halloween party to her friends.

Asked my neighbor with three 60s resto's going on in his garage - still no camera.

So my friends, this will have to do.

Close your eyes. Picture my fat bodied, blindingly white GT5, viewed from behind, slightly to the left, on a mountaintop, crouched on fallen orange leaves on the green grass, overlooking a sun-drenched quasi-European metropolis on the river below, with bright red leafy branches fanned out over the car, their fire reflecting off my windows, doors and rear wing.

Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
That's pretty funny George if only it wasn't so true. Just the thought of it makes me queasy.

Okay Mark. I got one of the kids' cameras. If it doesn't rain I will be out shooting tomorrow. How lame would I be if I had to drive 150 miles to find a back road?

Then again I could just find some old shots from a few years ago. Who would know the difference? Now, where did I put that old shoebox of Kodak prints.
Mark:

You’re right. I confess. I could not get through an entire season without taking some photos. The one below was taken on Thanksgiving Weekend, and e-mailed around to my friends with the following caption:

"I finally got around to adjusting the clutch in the Pantera yesterday, so I figured I should take the car out today and make sure it works (translation; "it was a beautiful day and I wanted to tear up some back roads"). I picked up John, a friend to whom I had been promising a ride for some time, at the industrial shop where he works. When I got there, he had me pull inside the large building where they service their truck-mounted oilfield equipment so all the guys could look at the car. Then I piled him into the passenger seat, and slowly headed north out of town. As we drove along, he commented that the Pantera was very comfortable and that he was surprised by how quiet it was. At first, I looked at him in surprise, because that's the last comment I would ever expect anyone to make about it. Then I smiled an evil smile, and replied, "it can get louder." There is a long, steep hill on the Alaska Highway at Charlie Lake. As we reached the bottom, I dropped it down two gears, punched it and, before we were even halfway up the speedo was already showing over 240km/h. The expression on John's face was a strange amalgam of sheer terror, and total delight as he grinned from ear to ear. All he could say was "Holy. Shit."

I turned off the Alaska Highway onto my favourite scenic and winding road, hanging the tail out a little just for fun. Then we blasted along for another 60 km before turning back. Driving at over 200 as we wound through the Peace River Valley felt as natural as doing it at the normal 90 in my GMC.

What a perfect, thrilling day."

I have since had a report from John's wife. In response to my question as to whether he liked the ride, she answered about her notoriously reserved husband that, "Liked would not be the word - I can say that he has not emoted about something at this level in a very long time."

I think I may have made another convert...

- Peter

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