I was walking through a rain soaked wooded trail. Through the leafless trees I spot an abandoned, red 4th gen Prelude next to a small creek. Naturally I check out this derelict car sunk in mud and leaves halfway up its front wheels. Not bad, the interior had already been stripped by a PO (basically just seats, as 17-21 year old Honda owners are wont to do). It was dirty with probably some holes in the floorboard or leak since the passenger side had a thick layer of mud at the bottom. Then there’s the crown jewel. A longer than stock shifter topped by a muscle car style white shift ball. Whatever it’s a manual!

So I see if the door is open. It is! Smells like... Well a 25 year old junkyard Honda that’s been sitting in the elements for God know how long. I should go to a junkyard. The gray cloth seat is dry, if musty, so I sit down. Not bad. On a lark I try to turn the ignition with my DD key, a dark teal metallic automatic CB7. Hey 80's GM cars could be started with just a handful of keys maybe Hondas could too.

To my amazement it turns over. Not that the key worked, just that the thing turned over with any key. Naturally I squeal with glee and try again feeding it some gas. Boom. It’s alive. Can’t hold an idle worth a damn but alive. A million things are running through my mind. What do I do with this? Who’d leave a running prelude in a forest? Was it stolen? Am I stealing it? Probably.... Technically. But one question sticks in my mind. Can I get it out? No, probably not, but in for a penny in for a pound. I push in the clutch and notch it into reverse and ease up the pedal and feel the familiar body lurch of a stuck car. Well this is where the magic of dreams comes in, instead of doing something sensible like clearing the mud away from the wheels and body, I just give it more gas and dump the clutch and feel it try to climb out. My sub concious apparently knows even less about off-roading than I do, but in their reality repeating this totally works!

Now I have a long uphill on a narrow path paved with decades of forest debris. Sensibility is just leading to a spinning wheel and going nowhere. Suddenly Jeremy Clarkson appears in my dream mind and tells me in the voice of Emperor Palpatine, “UNLIMITED POWER!!” And I once again solve my problems with a liberal use of throttle. I gain speed with trees passing inches past my mirrors. The steering wheel responds as if the car is on ice. When my andrenaline and rally delusions reach their peak I’m nearing the top of the hill and trail head at 30mph. OH SHIT! Black F-150 I cut the wheel and when that isn’t enough I pull the handbrake and start a lazy 270' slide (at full opposite lock of course)to the right. Naturally, I slide to a stop with my driver door resting on a tree. In a dream, that sequence was Badass.

Once I’ve properly parked I go through the check list of how to legally acquire said car. Probably should start by calling the sherrifs office.