Coming of Age

Coming of age meant getting the all important permit when I was a kid. The first car I ever drove was Dads 63 Mercury Monterey. It had a unique feature, the back window was reverse sloped, and rolled down. The 390 V-8 powered it nicely down the road, sheer heaven for a fifteen year old farm boy. Soon after, I got a job, and my brother in law offered up his old car, a 67 Pontiac Catalina. That Pontiachad 36 miles on the odometer when I laid eyes on it, and my first comment was somewhere along hte lines of 100,036 miles? to which my BiL laughed, and said it had over 100,000 when he got it, and most likely was 300,036 by now.
After adding another 100,000 I switched to a 65 Ford F-100.
Along over the years, my long list of vehicles owned reached a 56 Ford F-250, a real red necks truck. The beast had a 292 V-8, and rumor has it there was suspention under it, although from the ride you would never have known it.
One time, a friend, a deputy, asked to borrow the truck. I was to deliver it that night, but also had a meeting to get to. Several things on that truck didn't work. The speedometer was one, but with a 4.56 gear ratio, speed was never a problem, unless of course, you were behind me. Another was the gas gauge, and darn if I didn't run out. No problem, a station was only a block away, and in less then ten minutes, I had a can of fuel dumped in her. Those old diaphram fuel pumps wer tricky some times. Several attempts at starting met with not even a puff, so I opened the hood and dumped what little fuel remained in the can down the carb. BIG mistake, the truck backfired, and flames engulfed the motor, and licked up arround the hood. I popped the hood though and batted down the flames with my shirt.
A witness in a nearby motel hollered and asked if I needed any help, to which I declined. I then hopped in hte truck and drove to my meeting. (Not AA in case you wondered). The next morning I called my deputy friend and said I was delayed, but would bring the truck over.
He replied by asking if by chance I had had a fire in the truck. I said, yes I did.
When I got to his place, he opened the hood t osee what dakae had been done.
Well, it burned off the old oil residue from the vale cover leaks, but not much else.
He later told me that two fire departments and five police had spent two hours attempting to find a truck on fire along that highway.
Another time, a friend asked me to help him with a construction project. Seems he had a house with a wood basement floorthat was real, I mean REAL weak. he decide to remore the wood and put down concrete, but needed some fill sand. As luck would have it, we picked a day when we had a freezing rain storm. Nothin was moving in town, and after much risky driving we made it to the local concrete plant and got a few tons of sand. The trip back was a lot nicer, you;d have sworn the roads were clear and dry. his house had a steep driveway, but I backed in like it was nothing. As I shut the truck off, a local cop pulled up lights a flashing. I slid down the drive to the curb and asked what he needed.
He replied, I was going to ticket you for driving too fast for conditions, but I'll just keep my moth shut and not look stupid. He then got out, and walked arround the truck staring with amazement at the tires. They had not even a hint of tread.
Shortly after I got the truck, I replaced the tires with some a coworker had, 16.5s on spoked rims. Those were the baldies. About a year after the ice incident, I decided it was high time to replace em, one had a slow leak, and there were cords showing. I balked at the price tag for those 16.5s, a mere $280 a piece. I pulled out the old rims and took them down for new rubber instead. Turns out they were not quite a set. One was a 16, one a 16.5, one a 17 and one an 18 or 19 but when you set them side by side, all were the same height. The spare was a 15. It from all appearance was original with the truck. I ended up getting the 16.5 meats after all.
Years later I got a 76 Chevy for my son in law. They needed a vehicle, and after they had destroyed several, I was not about to spend a lot on them. When that Chevy was dropped in my lap for $225, it went directly to them for their transportation needs. SiL was a little reserved about the truck. it didn't help that all the way home I sank a Yooper tune for him;
Drivin down the road in my rusty Chevrolet......
I think I scared him pretty bad. He has yet to speak to me since, and that was over four years ago. Pretty good return for a measly $225, and I even got the truck back in less then a week.
Old vintage truck come with a wealth of entertainment value built in. You just don;t get that wit the luxury z-71 and modern crop of stuff. BTW, an old mech I knew called those z-71s El Caminos. a typical 70's full size has heavier front end parts then those trucks, I've seen both up close and personal.