Wheelbarrow Pit Bay

The dirt track faded into deep shadow, and running blind through the yard is a sure way to scuff fresh paint! I throttled down along the garden edging, hunting for a sheltered pit box before the night chill set in. Tucked right behind the massive rubber tire of a parked wheelbarrow, a folded square of burlap sack was wedged against a cedar stake. Prime garage turf! I dropped into low gear, rolled all four tires onto the coarse woven fabric, and tucked my front bumper deep into the fold. The giant rubber tread blocked the yard draft completely. Spoiler sheltered, pistons cooling—engine idling down until tomorrow!