pabster
Well-Known Member
Hey there all,
It's been a whirlwind week for me, and I thought I'd post a few of the highlights, since they all revolve around buying my first Mopar 5 days ago. Want to start off by saying that this site is awesome- I've only been a part of it for a few weeks, but I'm blown away by the good vibe. There's no **** talking, very little BS, instead a whole bunch of knowledgeable folks who want to help each other out in the pursuit of incredible b-bodies. I myself couldn't be more of a newbie- I've always loved muscle cars, and as I got to know more about them, I realized that the Mopars were what I always gravitated to. I'm no gearhead- I know very little about restoration, mechanical issues, etc. I'm a casual car lover, one of those who elects to go on a road trip whenever I can, just to be behind the wheel. So in the last month, I got serious and started looking for the vehicle that was meant for me. The 71-74 Charger fit the bill- I can't get enough of the look, and the price is within reason compared to some of the more rare and exotic models out there. Got me a local mechanic who grew up with Chryslers, was happy to help me out if I got an old car. All that was left was buying my ride.
I started looking through the sites- all the Chargers on ebay were far away, trashed, or modded out badly. Classic Car Trader had beautiful show quality rides, priced into the heavens. Craigslist was the only option, and it seemed like everything was wrecked and overpriced. But last week I saw a '74 Charger listed, and the picture in the listing looked clean. Close enough for me to take an afternoon and go see it for myself. The day came for me to go see it, and I was so hung over from festivities the night before that I almost didn't bother. But my quest for the car was stronger than my sorry state, and I drove to see it. When I pulled up to the rural ranch house down a dirt track, the green Charger sat in the driveway- bathed in California sunlight. It was beautiful- the swooping lines of the chassis met chrome on the front and rear and sparkled as I walked towards it. My headache and nausea faded as the car got closer.
I'm such a newbie that I hadn't ever examined a Charger up close- I didn't even know if my 6'4" frame would fit in the drivers seat. I started walking around it, chatting with the seller, trying not to let on how amazed I was with the condition of the car. I opened the door, and slid in. First the smell hit me- not moldy or musty, but a comforting hint of oil and vinyl. The seats were in great shape, and slid back all the way, I was comfortable. The Charger is like nothing else I've ever owned, or even driven. My whole life has been a string of stick shift Japanese cars- very reliable, fun to drive, did everything well, but they look and feel like everything else and there's not much connection there, even after years of driving. This Charger felt... deeper. As I started test driving it, the hood stretched out in front, the body rolling a bit as the dirt road gave way to pavement. I couldn't get over this new feeling- that this car was there, I was driving it, and I was meant to keep it.
So I bought it. Haggled a bit, agreed on a price, shook hands and agreed to pick it up the next day. The entire ride back home, I was talking to myself- "It looks so clean and drives so well that I'm not getting screwed.", "You want this, you work hard, you deserve this.", "If it doesn't work out, you can always sell it, but if you don't buy it you'll always regret it." Next day, I met the seller, paid the man, and drove off in my Charger. I was on top of the world. Within half an hour, five drivers on the highway had waved at me and smiled, even a Highway Patrol cruiser paced me for a bit and the cop gave me a thumbs up. The engine rumbled, the AM radio played oldies, the miles melted away as I rolled along in the slow lane, not in any hurry to get back. I got home in style, spent an hour moving stuff around in my garage so the beast would fit, and eased it into its new home. I shut off the engine, the sound died away, and I sat there for 15 minutes, smiling to myself, patting the dashboard every so often.
My first American car. My first Mopar. Don't know how I got so lucky to find exactly what I was looking for, but I'll be driving the Charger for a long time.
It's been a whirlwind week for me, and I thought I'd post a few of the highlights, since they all revolve around buying my first Mopar 5 days ago. Want to start off by saying that this site is awesome- I've only been a part of it for a few weeks, but I'm blown away by the good vibe. There's no **** talking, very little BS, instead a whole bunch of knowledgeable folks who want to help each other out in the pursuit of incredible b-bodies. I myself couldn't be more of a newbie- I've always loved muscle cars, and as I got to know more about them, I realized that the Mopars were what I always gravitated to. I'm no gearhead- I know very little about restoration, mechanical issues, etc. I'm a casual car lover, one of those who elects to go on a road trip whenever I can, just to be behind the wheel. So in the last month, I got serious and started looking for the vehicle that was meant for me. The 71-74 Charger fit the bill- I can't get enough of the look, and the price is within reason compared to some of the more rare and exotic models out there. Got me a local mechanic who grew up with Chryslers, was happy to help me out if I got an old car. All that was left was buying my ride.
I started looking through the sites- all the Chargers on ebay were far away, trashed, or modded out badly. Classic Car Trader had beautiful show quality rides, priced into the heavens. Craigslist was the only option, and it seemed like everything was wrecked and overpriced. But last week I saw a '74 Charger listed, and the picture in the listing looked clean. Close enough for me to take an afternoon and go see it for myself. The day came for me to go see it, and I was so hung over from festivities the night before that I almost didn't bother. But my quest for the car was stronger than my sorry state, and I drove to see it. When I pulled up to the rural ranch house down a dirt track, the green Charger sat in the driveway- bathed in California sunlight. It was beautiful- the swooping lines of the chassis met chrome on the front and rear and sparkled as I walked towards it. My headache and nausea faded as the car got closer.
I'm such a newbie that I hadn't ever examined a Charger up close- I didn't even know if my 6'4" frame would fit in the drivers seat. I started walking around it, chatting with the seller, trying not to let on how amazed I was with the condition of the car. I opened the door, and slid in. First the smell hit me- not moldy or musty, but a comforting hint of oil and vinyl. The seats were in great shape, and slid back all the way, I was comfortable. The Charger is like nothing else I've ever owned, or even driven. My whole life has been a string of stick shift Japanese cars- very reliable, fun to drive, did everything well, but they look and feel like everything else and there's not much connection there, even after years of driving. This Charger felt... deeper. As I started test driving it, the hood stretched out in front, the body rolling a bit as the dirt road gave way to pavement. I couldn't get over this new feeling- that this car was there, I was driving it, and I was meant to keep it.
So I bought it. Haggled a bit, agreed on a price, shook hands and agreed to pick it up the next day. The entire ride back home, I was talking to myself- "It looks so clean and drives so well that I'm not getting screwed.", "You want this, you work hard, you deserve this.", "If it doesn't work out, you can always sell it, but if you don't buy it you'll always regret it." Next day, I met the seller, paid the man, and drove off in my Charger. I was on top of the world. Within half an hour, five drivers on the highway had waved at me and smiled, even a Highway Patrol cruiser paced me for a bit and the cop gave me a thumbs up. The engine rumbled, the AM radio played oldies, the miles melted away as I rolled along in the slow lane, not in any hurry to get back. I got home in style, spent an hour moving stuff around in my garage so the beast would fit, and eased it into its new home. I shut off the engine, the sound died away, and I sat there for 15 minutes, smiling to myself, patting the dashboard every so often.
My first American car. My first Mopar. Don't know how I got so lucky to find exactly what I was looking for, but I'll be driving the Charger for a long time.
