Good Bye Old Red

After ten years in the saddle I said goodbye to Old Red. I know it's just a machine, but there's a certain sadness in watching a stranger drive it out of your driveway and down the road never to be seen again. You've cared for it, fixed it when it broke, and it rewarded you by carrying you wherever you wanted to go for years. Maybe there's no reason to develop an attachment to a chunk of metal, but it happens.