Originally Posted by
Art Shirk
I picture myself ambling through the Connecticut countryside on an expectant spring morning, hovering weightlessly above the hum of my daytons, bespoke falconry set stowed behind me and a crisp gimlet awaiting me at my destination. The three speed transmission affords effortless poise as I sink into the sangria houndstooth, lighting another Merit and taking a cool earthy draw. Wood paneling, at every internal vantage, lulls me into memories of my Grandfather's smokehouse. He was an AMC Eagle man, and so am I.