Here in the Chicago area the leaves have mostly fallen, the temperatures are falling below freezing and the prediction for snow is eminent, which means mountains of salt. So after a great run through the surrounding forest preserves today with the Mosquito toting the Seeker, and something to wet our whistle I find myself saddened as I park my M3W likely until spring. Who would have thought that this machine of creaks rattles pops and sometimes silence could so sorely be missed?
