Cruise Night

Every Sunday night from May long weekend until Labour day, Portage Avenue, the main sreet in Winnipeg, jitters and shakes with the sound of automobiles as they cruise up and down the street, four abreast, until the wee hours. From hotrods and crotch rockets to vintage Buicks and muscled up Dodges, trucks that seem to scrape the ground and kit cars faintly reminiscent of Dusenburgs and old Jaguars, you can see it all. Lately there are as many small, foreign built cars with engines that sound like hyped up rally racers and big spoliers on the back as there are those toting around Detroit-built power, but no matter where the "Made In" sticker says, a car is a car is a car and as long as it goes vroom! vroom! ... it fits.

There is an atmosphere on cruise nights, alike to being at a fair, with clumps of people watching and clumps of people showing off a set of chromed headers or arguing over a quarter mile speed. People bring lawn chairs and coolers of drinks and hot dog vendors line the streets and trucks sporting heavy music systems sit in parking lots, mobile Sunday-night DJs, cranking out old standards and popular new tunes. Sometimes you'll get a show; a little burst of speed or a brake-stand at a light, two charged Ninjas will run by in the parking lane or two old muscle cars will square up at a red and everyone waits expectantly for the green: will they rumble or not?

Every Sunday afternoon for the past 15 or so years, I have taken my car (affectionately named Alice) out of the garage, washed her up with a bucket of warm soapy water, dried her with a soft cloth and shined her chrome with metal polish. I've grabbed the "cruise night" CDs from the sunroom, loaded up with bottles of water and gas money, waited until dark, and rolled her onto the Avenue. Though it's been a long time since I did a brake-stand or raced anyone off a light, it's still a pretty fun way to spend a summer evening in the city.