Corvette Man
Who is the man living out of his Corvette alongside Highway 101 on the Southern Oregon Coast? It's been going on for almost four years now. Sometimes he's down by Brookings. Other times he's up near Port Orford.
The Corvette is a newer model, grayish, tricked up, parked in a gravel turnout on private land or on a gravel strip on public land. One spot is near the forest. The other has an ocean view.
I discovered the Corvette early mornings on the way south to work for a newspaper job, then north to a construction job.
Once I caught a glimpse of the Corvette Man: middle age, rotund, mustachioed, smoking a cigarette.
I have never not marveled at the sight of this sports car because I know there is someone living out of it. The car is in perfect condition. It's never dirty that I've seen.
I have never seen the Corvette in the afternoons on my drives home, which means he's on the move to somewhere after I am. To a job? Maybe it's a deal he's worked out with the state police. Surely there have been negotiations.
His living logistics baffle me. He must have little tent encampments off the highway. I've seen trails. He never leaves a scrap of garbage around the Corvette or any water jugs, coolers, etc. How has he fashioned his existence?
How does someone who own a nice Corvette come to live out of it for almost four years, perhaps even longer? How does he live?
These are the questions I want to answer as a writer, and not as a novelist. I don't want to imagine his experience. I want to know and share it.
Do I just pull over and ask him? Would that be rude? Where is that line? Do I need to trespass? Maybe no one has ever pulled over and asked if he needed help? Maybe one person doing so could open a door, even a tiny crack.