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A love story men can relate to.

Mine was a "Bluesmobile" - a 1974 Plymouth Fury II complete with rubber plugs where the antenna used to be and no lighter, but no cop shocks, cop tires, or cop motor (just a 360 V8.) I was "Elwood", and my friend was "Jake", and lived the part well. Both Jake and the Bluesmobile are gone; but I am still on a mission from God....

-James
 
My first car was a 1974 Chevy Nova Hatchback. No frills but a good car. V8 350 if my memory serves me correct. I think my first born was conceived in that car. :bump:
 
My first car was a 1975 Toyota Corolla SR5. Brown where it has paint, rust where the paint was gone. The body was rough, but it ran like crazy.

OBIO
 
How about a 51 Ford "Club Coupe" with a flat head V-8 . Never picked up alot chicks with it but I sure did enjoy driving it .:icon_lol: Bought it in 1964 when I was a Jr in highschool .(I guess the ladies didn't like the rusted out rocker panels so I got out the old body putty one day and went to work .


Rich
 
70 GMC pickup my Dad gave me... still have it... sitting in storage in AZ.:applause:
 
great story, cars can create such interesting emotions

can't say I miss my old '77 Buick Century :mixedsmi:

- dcc
 
Not my first car, but I'd rather have my last 1965 Chevy pickup back. Rust free cab and bed with a 230ci straight six with a 3 speed standard transmission. That ol' truck always got me there. Coming back might be an issue, but it'd always get me there.
 
I got into cars kinda late, was always more of a motorcycle fanatic, I didn't have a bicycle until I was old enough to get a job and buy my own at 11. I got my first motorbike when I was almost 5 years old it was a home-made mini-bike with a 3.5 HP Briggs and Stratton that my Dad built, he cut and welded the frame, rebuilt and mounted the engine and taught me how to ride it. It didn't have brakes per se, more like just a paddle that pressed against the rear tire when you pressed the peddle, the foot pegs were a solid piece of rebar welded to the frame so they didn't fold, my first flight experience was because of digging those foot pegs into the dirt one afternoon. My Dad got countless hours of enjoyment out of it, as did I. Almost three years ago I had a near life ending experience on a motorcycle, well actually I did die, 3 times before I got to the hospital, it's a long story but the short version is I rear ended a pick-up truck that cut me off on the interstate on my way into work one morning. I had several major injuries that has left me crippled up including a distal femur and tibial plateau fracture of the right leg, a busted thumb, several cracked ribs and vertebrae, plus severe head trauma that required brain surgery during which I suffered a stroke. That's right this is supposed to be the short version, just Google "Cadfather crash" if you want to know more on it. Any way that little 3.5 HP Briggs and Stratton started a love affair with motorcycling that has continued my entire life. As a matter of fact that love of riding is so strong that 2 weeks after getting out of a wheelchair and being told that I would never walk again without a walker or at the least a cane, I bought a bigger, faster motorcycle than the one I crashed, a Triumph Rocket III, 2300cc's or 140 cu in. I put 20,000 miles on it that year and still managed to work full time, yes I still work, the government says that I am not disabled. But I gotta tell ya, I'd trade that new 140 HP Triumph straight up even for that old rebuilt 3.5 HP Mini-bike my Dad built me. :icon29:
 
The car that got away.....

A 1974 or so Oldsmobile Omega (basically a Nova with 4 doors). Yellow with a white painted top and brown and tan interior. Wasn't pretty, but that car would MOVE. 350 cubic inch, ram horn exhaust manifolds, factory 4-barrel carb...basically a 350 Rocket. Duel exhaust with glass pack mufflers, posi-trac rear end. Had a really nice set of Craiger mags on it.

I left the car at home, under my parents suggestion that I not have a car during my first quarter of college...ya know, to make sure I developed good study habits. On my first weekend visit home, Lori (a gal I had been classmates and friend with since first grade, attended the same college as I did) dropped me off at the bottom of the drive way. I climb the rutted dirt drive and as I reach the top, I look to where I had left my car....and it was GONE! GONE! I dash into the house and asked my parents were my car went.

Seems as though a family that our family had known for years was in dire need of a car for cheap....and Dad sold them my car for $75. I was so mad. The Craigers were worth more than that, the Ram Horn exhaust manifolds were worth way more than that. The Edelbrock intake and 4-barrel were worth way more than that.

Deep down inside I understood why they sold my car to our friends for cheap.....we were poor, but they were so poor they made us look rich in comparison. But, as I explained in full detail, I had just found a nice 2-door Oldsmobile Cutlass body that was just begging for the engine and tranny from the Omega. I would have had a very sharp hot rod...but NOOOOOOOO!

OBIO
 
I'd love to know what happened to my '69 Camaro which I sold to a Navy buddy before I left the Philippines in 1973. I like to think somebody is still driving it and keeping it in good condition. My next car was a '74 Camaro LT with a 350 engine. Nice car, lousy gas mileage. :frown: Should've kept that '69 and shipped it back to the States.
 
The first car that was truly mine was a 1972 Ford Gran Torino Sport. I spent many days working on that car, built a fresh engine for it and turned it into a street burner. I sold it many years ago to someone who claimed they would restore it. I later found out that they resold the car to some kid who totaled it after owning it for two weeks.
 
My first car was provided by my parents to take me to college. It was a '78 Chevy Nova 4-door with beige paint and a 305 V-8. It looked identical to the cars that were driven by the Vice unit in the next city over. It was funny to watch hot-rodders getting ready to fly past me suddenly slam on the brakes to make sure I wasn't a cop!

The car I miss the most, though, would have to be the old sand rail I bought from a guy while I was in the Air Force. That thing was a ton of fun! Without fail, every rail owner I've ever talked to has told me that their ride has never been off the pavement. But even in the flatlands around Abilene, I managed to find a way to get mine into the air quite a bit - even six feet at one point!
 
I bought a bigger, faster motorcycle than the one I crashed, a Triumph Rocket III, 2300cc's or 140 cu in.

the rocket is a really cool bike! i have to say, since they started making bikes again i think they have really come out with some neat stuff.
my buddy has a 955 s/t that i like alot. how about some pics of your rocket?

most of these guys prolly don't have anyidea how huge they really are.
considering the rocket will out run a gsxr, the auto equivelent would be a stretch limo that out runs a vette.
 
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