It was a complete accident, a glance sideways as I drove toward a sharp corner, a bit of rusty red and bright chrome tucked behind a row of trees.
I kept going toward my goal: a red barn trimmed in white, with a good-weather, jaw-dropping view of Mount Rainier. There was no view of my favorite mountain that day, the clouds were down to the clamshell of foothills that hold up the mountain. But I got my barn shot, then came back to find that red truck.
Studebaker. 1940s vintage. Red with black fenders. That's all I know, but I'd like to know more.