Henri is a car, an ignoble Citroen 2CV, but he is not just any deux chevaux. He has personality and considerable flair inside his unusual burnt-orange exterior. Going uphill, his two cylinders work hard to hit 40 kph -- going downhill he sounds like a tin garden shed on the way to destruction. And yet he makes his Old American very happy - together they tour mountains and quiet villages in southeast France.

They venture toward the Pyrenees, attend a wedding together, meet and endure Brit and Yank ex-pats, and share a picnic to the yearning tones of a cello. Along the way they become friends with the very French Thierry and his delightful small daughter Sandrine, who kindly but firmly teach the Old American about French courtesy and culture.

Warmly illustrated with sketches by French illustrator Mor, Henri and the Old American is a story you'll want to read many times.

In a thoughtful manner it offers questions worthy of reflection: Archie Satterfield's Old American muses on the history of the land and towns around him, and he asks himself questions about violence in beautiful places, the behavior of visitors to France, and the importance of daily courtesies even among strangers.

Henri and the Old American is at once a salute to the most French of all machines, and a love story about the land sometimes called every man's second country.

Archie Satterfield has written many books on the terrain and culture of the Pacific Northwest. He has hiked the Chilkoot Pass, navigated the chilly Yukon River, and dealt gracefully with determined French car repairmen. In his new novel Henri and the Old American, he brings to vivid life the inhabitants - human and automotive - of his corner of France.