I'm trying, believe me...

"Technically, the Cayman is a hatchback. Lift the rear hatch and you'll find a shallow cargo space and the brushed alloy access panel for the engine's oil and water reservoirs. Under the carpeted and soundproofed hillock between the wheels is the car's 3.4-liter, flat-six engine, a fervent bit of machinery that in the throes of aggressive driving swamps the cabin with a bright, metallic resonance. Imagine the sound of someone cutting up Zildjian cymbals with a Husqvarna chain saw. I'll wait."

(Los Angeles Times, "Rumble Seat", 21 December 2005)

Look ma! No articulation! (to speak of)

Caught in a Land Rover's headlamps?

An almost perfect storm

So, it's dark, about 6:30 yesterday evening. My Rangie is traveling northbound on a two-lane street. A Freelander is exiting a car park to my left. Hidden from view by a parked semi trailer is a Disco, heading southbound. I cannot help but think there must be a Defender or perhaps even a Series truck nearby, and I just don't see it. What a wreck it might have been.