My favorite car is, always has been and, always will be the 1969 Dodge Charger.
It was my favorite when my Dad had one when I was a kid and, it was my favorite when I bought one myself the summer of 1988.
The car just had a look and a feel to it that I loved and still do.
When I bought mine, I'd scrimped $900 bucks together and, banged on the door of the guy who had it for sale, took it for a test drive and, paid for it in cash.
As soon as we got back from the bank and the title was notorized, I hopped in and was ready to go do some good old fashioned stoplight to stoplight drag racing down Glendale avenue and, the Anthony Wayne trail...after all, it was Friday night!
As I slid the shifter into drive, the guy I'd bought the car from yelled..."hey man, you're leaking something!"
Leaving the car running, I leaned out the door and looked under the car and, yes...I was leaking something...tranny fluid by the gallon it seemed!
After hauling ass home and parking in the back yard, I learned that I would not be doing any drag racing that night.
The next week was spent pulling the transmission, replacing the front seal and, replacing a dead torque converter.
Never one to leave well enough alone, I noticed that a valve cover gasket was leaking...and if I'm gonna replace that, well I may as well repaint the valve covers and, that carb is crap so I may as well pull the intake and repaint it too and, toss my rebuilt thermo-quad on there while I'm at it...if you're a gearhead...you get the picture.
About a month later after fixing the trans, rebuilding the top end and a rigamaroll of other odds and ends to make it all "just right" while working nights on it in the backyard with a tarp / tent draped over the hood, a junk lamp from the basement for a light and, many forgotten cups of coffee that froze solid in the cups while I was too busy to drink them...at about 4 am one morning, it was ready to be cranked over!
I hopped in the driver's seat, got comfortable, lit a smoke and, turned the key...
RRRR...rrrrr.rrrrr.rrr....click,click,click,click,click!
The fucking battery! After all that work, I'd never once considered the battery as being a weak link in the chain of insanity!
I put the battery charger on quick-fry and went in the house to warm up and grab a cup of non-frozen coffee while I waited...and ended up dozing off until 0730 and went outside to crank it up.
I turned the key and after about 10 seconds, it came to life!
I then grabbed the flashlight and looked under the car...no leaks!
Next, I was checking for valve cover leaks, air leaks, tire leaks, fuel leaks, coolant leaks...nothing! Woo-hoo!
After about 15 minutes of shock that everything was working perfectly, I put it in 1st, then 2nd, then drive to see that the tranny shifted properly...good to go!
So, what does a 18 year old kid do next?
I layed a patch in the driveway!
Tires screeching, tires smoking like a 4 alarm fire and, me watching my neighbor's porch lights all comming on in succession and looking out their doors pretty pissed that some asshole was smoking his tires at 8ish in the morning!
That car was my baby and, I loved driving it and, racing all the suckers at the stoplights on weekends...back when people used to just do that for fun...unlike nowadays.
The car in the picture isn't mine.
Mine was originally the same color but, in doing the body work on it, I'd sprayed the car primer gray and the hood flat primer black while saving for the funds to have it repainted in the original blue.
In August of 1990, a guy I knew wanted the car and I ended up trading it to him for a '72 Barracuda that needed it's un-original 4 speed rebuilt and, top-end work on the 440 motor that was also not the original 318 it came with...and some cash.
Long story short, girlfriend ended up pregnant on the day I got laid off from my refinery job and, I stored the car at my dad's house when I joined the army and left in the fall of 1990.
4 years, I'll be back with a pocket full of cash and, knock it back together...nope.
My Dad was sick of looking at it in his yard under a tarp after 2 years and sold it. My "4 quick years" away in the Army ended up lasting over a decade and, once back with kids and a wife to support, my mopar lust went from taking the back seat on the priority list to being a "one of these days I'll get another one" back burner ideas.
It may still be on my back burner but, gaddmmit, it's still on my stove!
11 comments:
-Sepp,
Great story. I have a buddy who had a similar story and he found a Dodge Charger and rebuilt it. There's always time for another one -
Sepp,
My first love was a '67 Cougar. I bought it with no wheels (couldn't afford the car and the cragar rims) and spent every penny I had on it. After waiting two weeks for the next paycheck, I got some junkyard rims and new tires, and was burning up the road. I found out I wasn't a gearhead, I'm a brother of the splinter, and haven't really messed with cars again. But if I ever get well off, I'll get another one that someone else has already done the restoring on.
Great story.
I've always been a fan of the 67 - 70 Cougars too.
My Grandad had a 67' that was painted in that weird light blue that Thunderbird restorers always seem to use.
After I was out drag racing one night, my buddy said that the tailight design on the '69 was cool in the way it was set up. I told him he'd have plenty of opportunities to see em every time we raced.
I grew up at the end of an era. What are today's kids going to drag race with?
Dodge neons and Toyotas?
No motor thumping, no tire smoke, no cherry bombs, no 4bbl holley double pumpers?
No spending countless hours in the garage actually learning what makes your car tick and, being able to fix it yourself.
Just a one wheel squeel from some bland little front wheel drive car...I'm glad I grew up when I did.
Sepp,
Ditto. I laugh every time I hear one of those hot-rod Yoda's with the kazoo stuck in the tailpipe. And what's with the whale tails?
Sepp,
Great story. Thanks for the ride down memory lane. You described well how my buddies and I spent about every free minute during my misspent youth. Those were good times.
My favorite ride was a '69 GTO.
Those were great days.
We would usually all meet up at about the same time at a buddy's house, smoke a doobie and, put a few pots of coffee on and wrench and fine tune our cars in his yard.
None of us drank and, none of us had high end sound systems in our cars because we loved the sound of the engines flowing thru a set of headers better than the radio!
It was quite a group.
I had my Charger, James had a 71' Coronet, Dave had a Roadrunner and a 69 AMX, Shawn had a Satelite, the other Shawn had a Cuda, Rich had a souped up Dodge van, Kev had a Chevelle, Doug had a 70' firebird, Chuck had a Galaxie 500 and our odd man out Ron had an...AMC Matador!
I think all of them (that are still alive) are driving mini vans nowadays.
Oh how the mighty have fallen!
Hey! What's wrong with mini-vans?
I have 2 issues with mini vans...
They're lame.
And, I'd estimate that 90% of the idiots who have in the last 15 years almost killed me while on my motorcycle were all driving minivans so I remain wary of them whenever I see one near an intersection.
At least you weren't trying to defend an AMC Matador...the Pacer's ugly sister!
Sepp,
I hate mini-vans too. For your reasons, and because you can't put anything in the damn things. You can't haul groceries or anything else if you got the whole family loaded up. And I don't think I'd enjoy rolling the tin can piece of shit over.
TJ, when mini vans first came out in the mid 1980's and were regularly the cause of a bunch of "close calls" for me on my first bike (a '73 sportster) I was convinced that mini vans all had a really bad blind spot from the 90 degree angle to 270.
Later, I found out that the drivers were mostly just morons.
And, 25 years later, most everytime I'm cruising to work up I-75 to Detroit and wind up as the 27th car in doing 50 mph in the left lane, 9 times in 10 it's some dimwit driving a mini van and yapping on a cell phone oblivious to the world around her.
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