and well because building stuff is fun

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A little anarchy, about those death bets, and a whole lot of sense being made...

When I was a kid (and dinosaurs stalked the suburbs) people built stuff. In my neighborhood alone there was a guy building a in his garage, two guys were building boats in their back yards, and, Id hazard a guess, that over half the people with cars had car projects going.

Not only did people build and fix stuff when I was a kid the process of doing so provided a lot of people enjoyment and a sense of satisfaction.

It used to be when you picked up a copy of Mechanics Illustrated it was full of articles telling you how to build a boat, turbocharge your Buick, build a house or a BBQ for the house you already have, and how to make a go-cart.

My dad helped me build a go-cart from plans out of an old Mechanics Illustrated with a salvaged lawn mower engine, a bunch of reclaimed conduit from a building they tore down near us, and a seat from an aircraft salvage yard ... It wasnt pretty (in spite of the candy apple glitter paint I chose), it was LOUD, and more than likely would not be considered safe in these modern times we currently find ourselves in. Or you might just say it was AWESOME!

Building that go-cart and the parade of other projects that followed it pretty much colored my life as a kid.

Of course, if you pick up a copy of Mechanics Illustrated today, you wont find very much about fixing or building things anymore and its prety much all about buying stuff and suchlike with no plans for boats or dumb and dangerous go-carts.

That kind of sucks...

I mention all this because The Coastal Passage did an article about a 30-foot catamaran design some time ago that just about anybody could build and they even published plans (of sorts) for it. The magazine is free and you can download it here. Its the sort of very doable and affordable project  that in 1965 would be being built in backyards all across America.


My dad, for one, would have been all over it and it would have resulted in one of those days when you wake up to the riddle of a hundred sheet of plywood in the driveway, dad making pancakes in the kitchen, and a bunch of plans sitting on the kitchen table to talk about over breakfast.

Beats going to the mall for some recreational shopping all to hell...


Listening to Ranger Bob

So it goes...



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