Glory days

I love classic cars, mostly the one’s of the 1930’s through the 1970’s. These cars were built to last, get into a fender bender, no big deal, pound out the dent if need be and move on. My very first car was a 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air 4 door post, with a 283 V8 engine and a standard 3 speed transmission. My dad was a very good mechanic and bought two 57 chevy’s, the Bel Air and a 210, both vehicles total coast $1000 in about 1979. We used the 210 as a parts car. I say we, but Dad did most of the work. When it came time to paint it, dad asked what color I wanted. I thought about it for a day or two, this was when Rocky II was playing. Rocky had that black Trans Am with the gold firebird on the hood and trim. So that was the color I went with, all 1978 Pontiac metallic gold with all that chrome on the 57, it looked very cool and the shine in sunlight,,,WOW!

Had alot of good times in the ole 57, she was a very reliable car. Could load up 3 to 5 friends and myself, very comfortable. Cruising around town and main street on Friday and Saturday night. Numerous trips to the drive in, got into some trouble there one night, a bit to much of the bull (Schlitz malt liquor) and singing along with Pat Benatar! Yep the Sheriff came along to visit us, me and a couple of my friends received an MIP. The really strange thing that happened that night, the Sheriff let us drive home, different times I guess. The ole Chevy did attracted the cops, a few to many times, mostly my fault, just a dumb kid, doing dumb stuff you know, like driving to fast. She wasn’t a hot rod or race car, but she was pretty fast. Just took longer to get to that top speed, which to this day I don’t know what that speed was, because the speedometer only went 120 mph.

I grew up in southern Oregon, in an area about 4000 feet elevation. Hot in the summer time and cold in the winter. Plenty of snow to play in, wether it was sledding, tubbing, a Honda 3 wheeler or my dad’s 440 Artic Cat snowmobile, my neighbor friends and I where always outside having fun. If we weren’t at football, basketball or baseball practice or games, we were outside doing fun and crazy things. My buddy Frank, who lived close by, had about a 50 to 75 acre field next to them that nobody used, the owner lived out of state and nobody ever saw him. So one summer when we were 13 years old, we took his dad’s D6 caterpiller and my dad’s Ford tractor with a blade on the back and bucket on the front. We then proceeded to build our own dirt bike track. We built a couple of jumps, some whoop dee doos, lots of turns and a nice long straight away, with a jump in the middle of it. I am surprised that we are still alive, but what a blast that was, for all our friends.

We definitely had some fun! Great times with great guys, we were brothers and still are. Been about 4 or 5 years since I’ve seen any of them, time to reconnect. Have to see how much bigger the stories have gotten..lol. As the years go by, the stories always grow, it’s just a guy thing, I guess. Cheers to you my friends, for keeping me around and always staying true and honest, love you guys!

Thanks to everyone who stopped by for a quick read, hope you all enjoyed it. Feel free to leave a comment or even share my stories or page. Catch you on the flip side!