J. Clarke articles

Buying a used car from a private seller feels a little like agreeing to hold a stranger’s drink at a concert. It might be totally fine. It might also end very badly. Private sales can save you thousands, but they also strip away the guardrails dealerships provide, leaving you face-to-face with someone who may—or may not—be playing fair.

For decades, the American motorcycle story has been told like a one-horse race—Harley-Davidson thundering down the highway while everyone else eats dust. But that version skips a crucial chapter. Long before Harley became the name in heavyweight cruisers, another American brand wasn’t just competing—it was trying to outsell them outright. That brand was Indian Motorcycle, and its rise, fall, and resurrection is one of the strangest, boldest sagas in motorcycling history.

Before motorcycles meant chrome, leather, and midlife crises, the very first one looked like it escaped from a medieval woodworking class. Built almost entirely of wood, awkwardly balanced, and powered by an engine that barely behaved itself, the world’s first motorcycle was less Easy Rider and more experimental fire hazard. And yet, this strange contraption quietly kicked off the motorized world we now take for granted.

Coming home to your apartment complex should be the emotional equivalent of loosening your shoes and sighing dramatically. Instead, you find an empty parking spot where your car absolutely, definitely, legally existed a few hours ago. Management shrugs. The leasing office goes mysteriously silent. And now you’re standing there wondering how your own home turf turned hostile.

You pull into the inspection station feeling confident. The brakes are fine, the lights work, and nothing is rattling like it’s about to fall off. Then the inspector squints at your windshield, taps a spot you’ve barely noticed, and hands you a failure notice. A tiny crack. Barely there. Somehow enough to sink the whole inspection. So now you’re left wondering if this is actually legal—or if the system just enjoys ruining your afternoon.

Long before motorcycles became symbols of rebellion, leisure, or weekend therapy, Route 66 quietly taught America how to dream on two wheels. Stretching from Chicago to the Pacific, the Mother Road wasn’t just a transportation route—it was a promise. For riders, it suggested that freedom wasn’t abstract. It was paved, numbered, and waiting.

The AMC Matador didn’t become a cult favorite by accident—it earned that status by zigging while Detroit zagged. Introduced in the early 1970s, the Matador arrived at a moment when American car design was caught between muscle-car bravado and looming fuel anxiety. Instead of playing it safe, American Motors leaned into bold choices that confused critics and intrigued future fans. What once felt awkward, overstyled, or misunderstood would eventually become the very reason people couldn’t stop talking about it.

Tires are the most overlooked performance upgrade your car already has. They affect fuel economy, handling, braking, ride comfort, and—most importantly—how long you can go before shelling out for a new set. The good news is that getting more life out of your tires doesn’t require secret tools or mechanical wizardry. It just takes consistency, attention, and a few habits most drivers swear they’ll start “next month”.

Nothing kills pre-trip excitement faster than that little amber engine icon glowing at you like it knows your plans. The question isn’t just what the light means, but whether ignoring it will turn your road trip into an expensive cautionary tale. Let’s walk through what that check engine light is trying to tell you—and how to decide if you should still hit the road or hit the brakes.