How Extreme Are You?

Every once in a while, I like to take a slight detour on things and this week is one of them. Now that I'm over a half century old, I can look back on some of my personal automotive history and think to myself that I've done some crazy things in my life. Examples that come to mind quickly are as follows:
 - The time I drove through the 2nd largest city in New England on an early Saturday morning in my 1971 Dodge Charger R/T with a 440 six-pak, to a buddy's garage to fix the front brakes. What made it eventful was the fact it had zero brakes at the time. The fact the car was a 4-speed helped. My loving wife drove in front of me as we crawled down the four lane road with our hazards on doing about 20 mph, until we got to the side street and snaked into the garage where my friend worked on old cars in his spare time. To this day, I'm grateful that the old-style Ford Bronco my wife was driving had the rear bumper prepped with heavy duty foam and several blankets wrapped around it, just in case she had to apply the brakes and I bumped into her; which of course happened. Thankfully, neither we nor the vehicles were any worse for wear. Why didn't we just tow it? Simple - nobody we knew had a trailer, nor a tow vehicle, and the local AAA drivers were clueless about towing an old vehicle. But more honestly to the point, we were just young, way to adventurous, and slightly stupid.

- The 2nd example was the time I installed new u-joints in a 1968 Coronet R/T I had after the Charger. One of those u-joints just didn't feel right, but I test drove it anyway. Of course, I didn't give it a gentle test drive; after all, it was a Hemi 4-speed car. I power shifted into 3rd going up a hill, doing well over 90 mph, when the rear u-joint let go and the driveshaft came up through the floor board. Now I had to explain to my wife about how two u-joints suddenly blossomed into more u-joints, a driveshaft and bodywork... lots of it. And this took place back in the day before the flood of aftermarket parts hit the market by the late '80's and early '90's. Again, I was young, too cocky, and stupid. However, both events were pretty extreme in my book.

Fast forward to last week. I was writing an article for a client about some bizarre automotive sports. Some I was familiar with, others were a new discovery. One of these discoveries was the unofficial sport of Automotive Polo. It followed the same rules as regular polo, except they used cars instead of horses. After viewing several photos for the article, I can honestly say these guys were hardcore. Apparently, the sport was very popular at fairs, exhibitions and sports venues across the United States and several areas in Europe from 1911 until the late 1920s. The man who is credited with being the inventor of auto polo is Ralph "Pappy" Hankinson, a Ford automobile dealer from Topeka who devised the sport as a publicity stunt in 1911 to sell Model T cars. Leave it to a car salesman to come up with such an insane idea. The reported first "game" of auto polo occurred in an alfalfa field in Wichita on July 20, 1912 and was witnessed by over 5,000 people. While there was numerous injuries and broken bones as one can imagine, not just to the players, but sometimes the spectators, there were only one or two deaths during the span of the almost 20 years the sport existed. As you examine the photo above right, groove on the lack of body padding, and totally open cockpit vehicles.

That was then, let's look at now. One motorsport that is still extremely popular, as well as downright hilarious, is extreme Barbie Jeep racing. Whenever I see highlight footage of this stuff, I laugh so hard, my sides hurt. I honestly don't know why. My wife, on the other hand, just shakes her head, and tells me, "This is why as a society we cannot have nice things. Because we're just too stupid." Nevertheless, what most likely makes this sport extreme are two facts; One, is that the drivers gain so much speed, the cars literally fall apart from the drivers weight as well as the bumps. We're talking tires, hoods, and even steering wheels. Face it, Mattel (or whomever) never made these rigs for this type of punishment. Two, is the fact that some drivers wear little else besides a helmet and jeans (which are required). Some of the participants have been doing this gig long enough, (I'm still unsure if that's kinda sad in a way), that they know you can get really banged up if you have a bad spill. Some of these guys literally dress as if they're in a full-on motocross race. And for good reason. Google it if you don't believe me.

I guess it all goes back to that famous phrase, "There's a hobby or sport for everyone." 'Nuff said.

Until nest time, peace out
Dave

Is Your Car Honest?

Before we get started, I'm going to lay down a few confessions: I'm aging, (not old - that's a negative state of mind), and I like things, especially go-fast vintage automobiles, to be honest. Let me explain a little deeper. I can dig just about any year or make, car or truck (heck I've even seen some flat-out cool buses and oil delivery rigs) as long as there isn't some sort or level of bullshit involved. I can remember a few car aficionados talking with this young guy about the 1974 Roadrunner he had brought to a car show last summer. He said the vehicle ran 8's in the quarter mile. "It's unbelievable!" he told us. Yup - he was right; it was totally unbelievable. It had a modified 440 engine (unsure of the year), no turbos, no nitrous, and almost a stock suspension setup. As bad ass as the Plymouth was, there was no way in hell this Mopar B-body was that fast. We asked him details about the drive-train, chassis, etc., to which he had none... because it was his old man's rig.

I kinda get the same feeling in my gut when I browse the classifieds on Racing Junk. I have a yen for the "Radical Street Cars" section under the Drag Racing Cars section. But how many grains of salt do I take when I see a beautiful classic car that's "regularly street driven" but the motor has 13.5:1 compression? I don't know about you, but racing gas is stupid expensive to buy and not widely available. We're lucky if we get 93 octane. And with what passes for gas these days, even that can be a crap shoot. Maybe racing or 100-octane fuel is available in your neck of the woods. If it is, be uber grateful - because most of us don't have that Cadillac problem.

Remember a few years ago that insane 1970 Chevy C-10 that came out of Oklahoma that went viral all over the net and even eventually found it's way into the pages of Hot Rod magazine dubbed "Farm Truck"? The formula was simple - take an absolute beat C-10 (but with a nice interior I might add), stuff a massive big block between the front fenders, give it nosebleed amount of nitrous, add some massive slicks on the back and viola - one of the best sleepers that went deep into the 12's at first and finished into the 11's. The details on this truck

were incredible as well as honest. Like many popular rigs, it spawns copies -  which is not a bad thing - as long as it's honest. A guy in our local area built a similar truck, (except his was a '67), and he used a small-block LS motor with twin turbos. The truck never pretended to be something it wasn't. It was beat, but well thought out, the time slips spoke for themselves, (as well the rubber from the racing slicks), and it was totally true to itself. 

So whatever you're building, riding in, about to purchase, or pass on to a new owner, stock or heavily modified, make sure your ride is honest - no bullshit. The hot rodding world will thank you for it.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave

We Hate Change & We Hate The Way Things Are

I don't know who coined that phrase about society in general, but if I ever get the chance to meet that person, I will warmly shake their hand. Why? Because nothing could be closer to the truth. I've been cruising the classifieds lately, not only for a possible replacement for my wife's daily driver, (it's starting to get a little finicky for her liking at 210,000 miles), but also the possibility of another go-fast ride for myself, as I'm currently without one at this juncture. My wife and I agreed that we really don't want to spend a great deal of money on her replacement. Her current ride we pulled out of a snowbank three years ago for $500 from a family friend, and while we've done some repairs over the years at the shop where I work, we have racked up well over 50K miles and it's been a decent car. It's not perfect, but hey, what used car is?

The problem I'm running into in 2018, is that it seems like vehicles (or at least 90% of them) that are $2000 or less are absolute junk. They've been sitting since last August, (when the registration and inspection sticker ran out), but the vehicle will run when certain parts are replaced, (which by the way are dirt cheap at Auto Zone), and even though I can see numerous problems with the vehicle, even with the crappy cell-phone thumbnails that have been posted, the car will pass a state inspection no problem. I haven't even called these people yet, and they're already lying. Now - do I need to come to the realization that this is just the way things are and I hate the changes that have occurred in the past few years? Or, are my convictions correct, that the seller is hard up for money for whatever reason, and is hoping a sucker with zero knowledge of automobiles comes along to lay down their hard earned cash and run for the hills?

A friend of mine went through a similar experience back in 2012 when he purchased a rough 1965 Galaxie 2-door hardtop. He's owned several example before, so he's very knowledgeable about them. He traveled down to Pennsylvania to look at one that seemed to fit his criteria; in addition to the 2-door hardtop aspect, it was also had the original big block engine and 4-speed transmission. He knew from the pictures that the front grille, headlights, and bumper were missing - he was okay with that - he had those parts in his garage from previous projects. Considering the interior had 50+ years of use, it actually wasn't in bad shape. When he arrived however, the vehicle looked like it had been sitting outside in the same spot for quite some time, not just the "few months" the seller described. When my friend mentioned to the seller that he needed to move the car from it's present resting spot to get a better look underneath, the seller strongly objected. He finally reasoned with the guy by showing him the cash he had in hand to purchase the Ford - never mind he brought three other friends and his trailer along with him.

After viewing the underside of the Galaxie, my friend still purchased the car, but for 75% less than the seller's asking price, because the car needed shitloads of metal-work. This, of course, was a complete surprise to the seller stating that the car was in good shape (and running) when he parked it. Fast forward a few years to the Spring of 2017. The car is now done. However, it is heavily modified from it's original state. To add some intrigue to this story, here's a few discovered tidbits that happened over those five years; One, the Galaxie was indeed a factory big block car - optioned with the 427 side oiler V-8. It was an original 4-spped vehicle, even though the original top-loader was long gone. Be that as it may, my friend did not restore it to factory original. Why? Because even after looking underneath the vehicle prior to purchasing it, there were still sins that were hidden. The vehicle was just too far gone. It was actually way easier and cheaper in the long run to install an after-market frame, suspension, brakes, and drivetrain, rather than to chase down 1965-era parts. The paint isn't even a factory color. The only remnant of what the Dearborn Michigan manufacturer installed back in 1965 is the interior.

When he brings the finished rig to a car show in May 2017, this Ford is right. It's got looks, cake-loads of power, handling and braking. You could even say, it easily rivals many new luxury cars. He parks it in with other similar era Galaxie's and large Ford vehicles. He happens to park next to a guy who had a for sale sign on the windshield of his 352-powered 1965 Galaxie. My friend shuts off the motor and pops the hood. Numerous people fall to their knees in awe of the work that was done to this car, especially when they view the photo scrapbook of pictures my friend has taken. The odd thing is, the guy next to him seems pissed. That's because he is. When there's a break in the crowd, he tells my friend that "... he's bringing down the value of these vehicles by modifying it." My friend explains that was his opinion, but also the fact that the car was in too hard of shape to bring back to original. Besides, it was his ride, his money, he could essentially do what he wanted with it. He then wished him the best of luck selling his ride and walked away.


Different perspectives; my friend loved how his Galaxie turned out. Another person, for whatever reason, didn't like it. I will admit that even though sometimes I don't like change, I am better at adjusting and adapting to it. As to the way things are, well... give me some time and I'll get back to you on that one.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave

Skewed Perceptions... Or Are They?

I was visiting a casual friend of mine named Jack who's about 25 years my senior the other day. He lives in a nice apartment building and does what he can to keep himself from "going crazy in his old age" as he puts it. He used to be a very active member in a local photographers group, but ever since his eyesight deteriorated a few years ago, he only attends about one or two gatherings a year (we meet once a month). We always encourage him to attend more get-together's, and other group members are always psyched to see him, but he feels he has nothing to contribute since he doesn't photograph anymore due to his poor sight. He mostly goes when he truly needs a dose of positive fellowship. It's easy to offer someone reasons for positive change; it's a whole other deal for the other person to except it. For example, with my casual friend, I can tell him until the cows come home that while he doesn't have his eyesight like he used to, he still has tremendous knowledge. It's still up to him to take that truth, digest it, and make it part of his mindset. I can't do it for him.

I brought along a mutual street rodding friend named Bobby when I went to visit with Jack - it was a beautiful Spring day, about 62 degrees. Bobby's been itching to air out his '38 Plymouth street rod, but hasn't been able to due to his recent shoulder surgery. Together, we accomplished that mission - I drove and power shifted, he listened and observed how the new 6-speed worked that he installed over the winter. That business coupe with the 440 magnum between the front frame rails drove like a bat out a hell. Jack, who is also a hot rod aficionado, commented on the progress Bobby was making with the Plymouth. At about the same time, another gentleman who lives in the same apartment building, walked by and asked in a rather snarky voice, "Are you boys going to do burnouts in the parking lot with that thing? We're already dealing with those punk kids across the street and their ATV's. That's all we need - more noise."

Instead of ignoring this resident who was passing by, I asked him why he thought we would do burnouts. He then looked at me as if I assumed he was an idiot. He mentioned the big tires, the engine, and the fact hoodlums owned cars like that. Bobby let out a howl of a laugh (he's like that) and Jack told me and Bobby to just ignore him, but I was too curious by now. The more I talked to this passer by, the more history and perspectives I gained from him. He recalled earlier times in his life (and we're talking the 1950's here) when hot rodding was still fairly young. He mentioned that he had numerous buddies who got hit with go-fast bug, but"...they were all unsafe jalopies because they were young and broke. Between those things and their girlfriends." Apparently, a few got hurt. Unfortunately, this still rings true in some cases today.

He also shared a memory of a girl he dated back then who was killed because she couldn't control the car she had. "She always told me that her car was so fast. I told her to slow down, use the brakes more, or get something smaller, but she died in a car wreck before that happened. These companies have always made cars that are too fast." While I agreed that there is some impressively quick machinery out there today, both vintage and modern, it is our responsibility as owners and drivers to know our limits and take responsibility for our actions, a bitter a pill as that is to swallow. It's the same with almost every aspect of our lives - from crossing the street, to taking medications, to our thought process and actions. We have to be aware as well as responsible. I assured the guy that we would not do any burnouts in the parking lot. The fact that there were cameras all over the place kind of puts the kabosh on that, including the fact this car is 80 years old... it kinda sticks out. The passer-by actually cracked a smile; "Yes it does," he agreed.

As the older gentleman continued on his way, Jack mentioned that he is pretty grumpy all the time. If however, we bridged some sort of gap between him and us, then all the better. We waged that battle back in the late '40's and all through the '50's. Hot rodders, like motorcyclists, or any other motor hobbyist, are not bad people. In fact, in most cases they'll be some of the nicest people you'll ever meet. Every once in a while though, we just have to gently tear down those walls.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave

It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time

I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and it may piss some people off. After all these years, even with all the different hot rods, muscle cars, trucks, and street machines I've owned, I can still admit that occasionally I'm a fickle gear-head. What I mean by that is, despite the popularity of a particular movement in our hobby, I still can't get behind what was done and accomplished. Case in point - I can vividly remember the Pro-Street movement during the mid to late '80's and how so over-the-top it finally became, that it had nowhere to go but crashing down for while. The thing is, I never had an issue with classic Detroit iron being tubed out with a huge BDS blower stacked on top of a big block sticking out through the hood. What I had a problem with was when this treatment was applied to late model vehicles with hideous colors. Do you remember when Hot Rod Magazine ran a story on building a pro-street car that could actually be driven regularly on the street? Don't feel bad - probably not many enthusiasts do. In fact, try using Google to find a picture of it - you can't - and I think there's a reason for that. The platform was a late-model Chevy Beretta. Yeah - a Beretta. Not the Camaro trim level option but the 2-door turd that was based on the 4-door Corsica. It leaves you speechless.

It probably seemed like a good idea at the time, because so many pro-street vehicles were literally race cars that were an absolute bitch to drive on the street. I should know - I built one in the mid-80's. It was a 1968 Plymouth GTX with a blown big block 440, automatic, huge Mickey Thompson's in the back and more roll cage than a jail cell. I sold it about a year after I finished it and purchased something more sane to drive. One of the big limiting factors back then was the fact that we did not have the engine and powertrain technology that we have today. Turbos, electronic fuel injection that you could program with a computer, overdrive transmissions, and cam profiles that resemble a modern car with variable valve timing weren't even on the horizon.

I used to bracket race on and off throughout the years, but I don't have the time (or money) to engage in the sport today as much as I would like to, but that's okay. I've been fortunate enough because of my love for hot rods, muscle cars and drag racing machines that I've ridden shotgun and have even driven some truly fast machinery - some to the tune of a mid 8-second quarter mile. I can truly appreciate what goes into going fast as well as the technological advances we've made. I frequently look at old photos from the mid to late 50's, especially when it comes to diggers. That was a time where both experimentation as well as life-or-death situations were common place. Back then, when a driver was making a pass at well over a buck ten, there was little to no room for error. Groove on the picture on the right. Yeah, the guy's wearing a brain bucket, but the roll bar doesn't extend north of his head and he's only wearing goggles. Can you imagine if that rig flipped over or suffered a fuel and/or nitro leak? Good night, Irene.

But, I guess that's the way mankind has always learned - the hard way and through trial and error. I still learn through trial and error, but I try to turn to the gods of speed for important lessons when I think my idea is a good one, but there's something niggling at my ego to double check some aspect. I think that's advise we could all live by.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave

Accessing Thy Self

I don't want you to dwell on this for too long, but I want you to take a quick mental inventory of everything you have in regards to vintage American automotive as well as relating memorabilia. If you've taken more than 10 minutes to get to this sentence, then you've taken too long. This could be anything from a hot rod or muscle car (or truck), associated parts, neon signs, old gas pumps, vintage car magazines, posters, toys - the list is almost endless. But the idea is to get a general idea of what you have, be it a lot or a little. Then add this to the mix - what if a natural disaster came along and wiped it all out? Or, if you had about 60 minutes warning to get out safely, what would you take with you? It can be a daunting task if you get really caught up in it.

If you really think about it, most likely about 99% of it is replaceable. That's one of the main reasons why insurance for this stuff (or your stuff) exists. Think about it - we have insurance for our car, our house, maybe even for an RV or boat we may own, but what about your hot rod? Or going even further, your cool automotive memorabilia? I'm not here to push a certain type of insurance and/or company. I'm just saying with the wildfires out west, floods down south, robberies in large cities, and anything else negative you want to throw on the collective woodpile, makes it a question of when... not if.

When I say this stuff is "replaceable", I mean a duplicate can be purchased if the first item is lost. For example, I have countless Hot Rod, Car Craft, Popular Hot Rodding, and Super Stock magazines from the 60's. More than I can count accurately in my head. I have a bunch of vintage Fleer racing / trading cards. I have hundreds of vintage red-line Hot Wheels toy cars. I also have a bunch of classic muscle car brochures, posters, and other rare advertising inventory. Believe it or not, rare as it is, it is replaceable. I have insurance on it and if anything happens, I can replace it.

However, it begs the question, "how important is it?" If push came to shove, my wife and I have already talked about what we would take; the list is very small and consists of our laptop, our DSLR cameras, our phones, our wallets, and clothes for a few days. That's it. And it would take all of 90 seconds to gather it up and get out if necessary. Someone asked us once if that list could be narrowed down even more - where you could only take one item. Of course it could; it would be the laptop. The reason being, all our irreplaceable photos are on there. Years worth of family shots, kids, grandkids, scans of old photos that are long gone.

And that's the bottom line - while our vintage American collectibles are indeed cool, rare, or whatever description you want to tag them with, they are replaceable. You, nor your spouse, your kids, etc., are not. It all comes down to how do we honestly access ourselves?


Until next time, peace out.
Dave

I'm Not Normal

I will openly admit that - I am not normal. Here's why... or possibly why not. This evening the New England Patriots will play the Eagles of Philadelphia in the Super Bowl. Some friends of ours that my wife and I visited last night will be all fired up in front of their large screen TV. My wife and I will not. I will have more than enough friends who will be commenting and providing updates on Facebook. More than likely, I will just scroll on by, if I'm on any type of social media at all after 6:30pm. This will be the 8th time (I believe) in the past 15 years the Pats will be a part of the big game. They've won it 5 times in the past 15 years as well. In that same time span, the Red Sox have won the world series three times, the Bruins have brought home the Stanley Cup once and the Celtics have also won an NBA championship. In all honestly, New England is a great area to be a sports fan. In my head however - big deal. So why don't I care? Thinking about it a little more, I feel that term might be a bit harsh. Am I glad the local professional football team is in the Super Bowl and do I hope they win the game? Sure I do. Will I watch the game, the humorous commercials, the over-hyped half time show? No. Will I be depressed (or even bummed out) if the Pats lose? Not by a long shot.

Ever since I was a kid, I've never been into sports. While the other kids were on the playground trading baseball or football cards, I was trading Fleer drag racing cards with a select few (and I mean few) kids who followed the nitro religion. While my classmates followed Joe Namath and Roger Staubach, I was following the likes of Ronnie Sox, Bill Jenkins, and Don Nicholson. When others were quoting acronyms like NFL, MLB, or NBA, I had the NHRA and AHRA floating around in my gray matter. Because of my somewhat-distant affiliation with drag racing, I would occasionally be asked the question, "You don't like football or baseball - what's the matter with you?" However, all that went away when either my cousin would pick me up in his 1968 GTO, or our good neighbor Len (who took me under his wing performance wise when I was that awkward kid) swung by in his obnoxious tunnel-ram Camaro. For a brief moment, those kids might have thought that they should be grooving on hot cars and not some sport that involved a ball. And the one or two kids that didn't shut up right away, when my neighbor did a hellacious burnout in front of them with me in the front passenger seat, that usually did the trick. I would be smiling from ear to ear and Len would say, "Look kid - don't tell your folks I did that, okay?" He always said that after he lit up the rear tires when I was with him. And to this date, I've never told them about it.

 As I grew older, obtained a drivers license, and even after I got married, rear wheel drive muscle cars and hot rods still were the order of the day when everyone else was driving front-wheel drive sedans and - heaven help us - minivans. I can remember bringing home my wife and our first daughter home from the hospital in our blue 1971 Dodge Charger R/T. That car was big, safe, and heavy. The modified engine also had it's benefits, although gas mileage certainly wasn't one of them. The radical idle from aftermarket cam that was in it, rocked our baby girl to sleep I don't know how many times. As always, we had a back-up plan as most hot rodders do. If the weather was going to be dicey, we had a beat-up early '70's 4-wheel drive Bronco that pretty much plowed through anything.

However, we all age - we don't get old; but we do age. The good part is, the abnormality doesn't go away. It may change a bit, but it stays with us through the years. To date, I've gotten muscle cars out of my system as well as trucks. I've even owned a "modern musclecar" with fuel injection. And yes, every once in a while I long for all those rides, including the '87 5.0 Mustang. Now, I'm jonesing for something a lot older; like a late '20's / early '30's Ford street rod, preferably with a blower on top. Maybe I am becoming an old fart. Even my old neighbor Len who used to occasionally pick me up from school mellowed out over the years. The picture below is from the mid to late '70's of his 1968 Camaro he purchased after he sold the tunnel-ram ride. He mentioned he was becoming more practical in his old age. That Camaro had a modified LT-1 350 small block between the fenders. Sure it had 425 horsepower, but then again, that was slowing down and being more practical for Len. That's his wife Rita leaning on the fender.

Until next time, peace out and keep the faith.
Dave