So, everyone here has a car that started it all for you. I would love to hear about everyones story about "the car" that left the imprint that makes every one of us sick in the head for these four wheeled wonders. Here is my story, it has a cool twist in the end.
Ok, it was the summer of 1980 I think and my dad comes home to tell us that we have to leave our home, as I knew it at 7 years old anyways, and move to a new place. He had gotten a promotion at the post office, long time coming, the catch was we had to move. Now this was the worst news for me as I didnt want to make new friends, I liked the ones I had thanks. As it comes time for us to move I am informed that my dad had purchased a new ride for a new toy in celebration of his promotion. It was a yellow 1968 roadrunner. Never heard of it, I was already a car buff and was learning the ropes of all the different cars and had already latched onto the musclecar thing. Now my dad had already pumped me up with stories of his 68 GTS with a 383 (the worlds greatest motor in his opinion) with its 4 spd that he had ordered new from Glendale Dodge when he came back from Viet Nam. But I digress, so here I am trying to figure out what the hell a Roadrunner is and all I can picture is a 74ish Dart! Well the day come for our big move and after we get settled in we head over to Daves house, his new boss, and pull up to the curb to what had to been the center of all things Mopar (didnt know what that was...yet). I mean, he had 2 71 Hemi Cudas, an orange drop top 440 challenger, a green 69 charger 500 with a Hemi, Yellow 6 pack Superbird, 2 T/As one blue/one orange, his original owner 70 Roadrunner 383, 69 Superbee with a Hemi (which by the way was in Car Craft real street eliminator 2 and was the only auto in the place!), the lone Phord a 67 GT500 shelby with a 428 and 2 fours, and a lowly Sunfire yellow 68 Runner with Torquethrusts on it backed sideways in the approach to the driveway. My life forever changed. We piled into the runner and took here home. When we got home my dad and I went for a little cruise, and WOW I have never been sideways in a car before and this moster could do it on command in the first 2 gears. Every little noise from the whine in the gear box in the lower gears to tink it made when it was cooling down after a thorough pounding was stuck in my head forever. I think that car got more wax than a candle factory from me during the next five years. That car was religeously washed weekly and waxed monthly by me, lovingly. My parents didnt really understand the infatuation, I would bug my dad about changing the oil and hung on every move during the process. I saved every penny I earned from my paper route and odd jobs over the years knowing that the day would come and I wanted to be ready to buy it fair and square from my parents as they werent in the habit of giving things away. I even had to buy my own bikes and such over the years and did so frugally so as to not cut into the roadrunner fund. OK so I liked this thing, I think thats an understatement! Fast forward, I am 12 now and my dipsh*t brothers are of driving age. Well my parents were smart enough to not give them this rolling freight train of a car and decided to sell it. Heres my chance, so I approach them with caution and present to them the bank book revealing to them that I had saved enough money to pay their asking price of $2500. Well lets just say that my dad actually laughed outloud. The answer was NO! See I was a responsible kid and never got into trouble and worked hard so that I could stay under the radar and generally do whatever I wanted. Well the car went into the Autotrader and multiple people came to see the car. They would him and haw and low ball my dad and each time he would complain about it to my mom I would humbly offer him the $2500. Well some nice guy came along and bought it for his son (thanks dad) as a graduation gift. Hell of a guy. I remember that day as well very well. So well that I wrote the guys name, city he lived in and the license number down (like I didnt have that memorized). Anyways the cars gone, long gone just a memory and a dream to one day own a 68 runner. 2 years later I bought, unbeknownst to my parents, a 68 Dart which I still own to this day. When we dragged it home, thanks to my brother who was always there for me, my dad went through the roof. He took a look at it and I could see that he actually liked it and kinda wished he never sold his. Under the hood was a wounded 273, which pleased my old man and he allowed it only if I kept the 273 as the 273 never could be made fast. True to my word I made him eat his as the little 273 pushed that car into the 13s. Oh well, the 68 runner never left my though and I still dreamt of the day a 68 would come my way, our old 68 would be the best scenario. By now I am out of high school and free of my old man and his "you cant do that" attitude, life goes on and I get to work as a mechanic at the local gas station and a few years go by and a few Roadrunner go by but none fill the void and I find myself daydreaming of that sunfire yellow monster. The search begins. I still had the scratch piece of paper and I get one of my cop buddies, actually its the cop that wrote me many tickets in my Dart and its 3 inch flowmasters, to run the plate number and it comes up with an address and that its non-op status. So I did what any crazed maniac would do, I loaded up my good friend in my truck and we roadtrip 3 hours to go find the address and knock on the door only to find that the address is actually a p.o. box. Dead end, this goes on 2 more times. My dreams crushed and I gave up and realized that it hadnt been registered in ten years and I came to the realization that it probably had been wrecked and or parted out. Bummer, collosal bummer. This May I am at my bachelor party and one of my cop buddies, that I made when we moved to Orange County, asked about the Runner since he knew it well too. I said I think its dead and gone but I still have the info and I hadnt run the plates in 5 years or so. He calls me one night and asked for the plate number and he would run it. Well it came up currently registered! So I did a Zabba search of the guys name and city and got his address. I wait about 10 seconds before I found myself at his house. Worried, I kinda felt like a stalker and all but my intentions were innocent enough right? I pondered for awhile and decided that I would just go up and knock on his door. Knock knock, I wonder who will answer and will they be mad at me, well it was his dad and I remember his face even though it had been 24 years. I told him my story and asked if his son still had the runner. He said that his son gave it back to him when he lost his license after too many tickets. I asked if the car was there and could I see it? Well no, see it was at his other kids house stored in the garage. We talked for a few hours and laughed at what lengths I went to find him. Well all in all we became friends, and he was glad that I found him. We parted ways and exchanged numbers promising to get together soon to have a reunion of sorts. Yesterday I went to his house to help him work on his El Camino and see my long lost friend. I have to say that he took decent care of it, as soon as I turned the corner there it sat and immediately I knew I had found my long lost friend. I took a few minutes to check her out and say hello and remember all the good times that I was fortunate to have. We got to work on the Camino and got it running then it was off to the local Fuddruckers for a burger, it was the weekly cruise night. After a nice visit and few more calories for my spare tire we set to drive back to his house. He tosses me the keys and I politely tell him no thats okay even though I really want to go for a cruise under my heavy right foot. He insisted and told me that wasnt an option. Well I take up residence behind the wheel of the car that I had last driven 24 years ago. See my dad is an alcoholic and would sometimes, more like verytime, drink too much and then have no way home. At least he didnt drink and drive, soo that left me the 12 year old to drive the runner home. WooHoo thats when I learned to drive, well it escalated to me stealing it when my parents would leave on vacation to vegas. My old man also had a gambling problem, I bet you guys are getting a feeling of how much I like him, oh well they would go to vegas and I would exercise the runner on saturday nights for them! We had some good times, now back to it we drove towards the house and he asked me if I wanted cruise some more and who am I to tell him no? After about an hour of running it around the beautiful hills of South Orange County at dusk we get home. We say our good buys and I head home a very happy guy and feeling good that someone had taken care of my friend.
I know this has been a long rant and I am going to reward you with some pics. Now there is alot more to this story and if you guys want to hear it let me know and I will post it. Well enjoy the pics and this is how it all started for me.
Ok, it was the summer of 1980 I think and my dad comes home to tell us that we have to leave our home, as I knew it at 7 years old anyways, and move to a new place. He had gotten a promotion at the post office, long time coming, the catch was we had to move. Now this was the worst news for me as I didnt want to make new friends, I liked the ones I had thanks. As it comes time for us to move I am informed that my dad had purchased a new ride for a new toy in celebration of his promotion. It was a yellow 1968 roadrunner. Never heard of it, I was already a car buff and was learning the ropes of all the different cars and had already latched onto the musclecar thing. Now my dad had already pumped me up with stories of his 68 GTS with a 383 (the worlds greatest motor in his opinion) with its 4 spd that he had ordered new from Glendale Dodge when he came back from Viet Nam. But I digress, so here I am trying to figure out what the hell a Roadrunner is and all I can picture is a 74ish Dart! Well the day come for our big move and after we get settled in we head over to Daves house, his new boss, and pull up to the curb to what had to been the center of all things Mopar (didnt know what that was...yet). I mean, he had 2 71 Hemi Cudas, an orange drop top 440 challenger, a green 69 charger 500 with a Hemi, Yellow 6 pack Superbird, 2 T/As one blue/one orange, his original owner 70 Roadrunner 383, 69 Superbee with a Hemi (which by the way was in Car Craft real street eliminator 2 and was the only auto in the place!), the lone Phord a 67 GT500 shelby with a 428 and 2 fours, and a lowly Sunfire yellow 68 Runner with Torquethrusts on it backed sideways in the approach to the driveway. My life forever changed. We piled into the runner and took here home. When we got home my dad and I went for a little cruise, and WOW I have never been sideways in a car before and this moster could do it on command in the first 2 gears. Every little noise from the whine in the gear box in the lower gears to tink it made when it was cooling down after a thorough pounding was stuck in my head forever. I think that car got more wax than a candle factory from me during the next five years. That car was religeously washed weekly and waxed monthly by me, lovingly. My parents didnt really understand the infatuation, I would bug my dad about changing the oil and hung on every move during the process. I saved every penny I earned from my paper route and odd jobs over the years knowing that the day would come and I wanted to be ready to buy it fair and square from my parents as they werent in the habit of giving things away. I even had to buy my own bikes and such over the years and did so frugally so as to not cut into the roadrunner fund. OK so I liked this thing, I think thats an understatement! Fast forward, I am 12 now and my dipsh*t brothers are of driving age. Well my parents were smart enough to not give them this rolling freight train of a car and decided to sell it. Heres my chance, so I approach them with caution and present to them the bank book revealing to them that I had saved enough money to pay their asking price of $2500. Well lets just say that my dad actually laughed outloud. The answer was NO! See I was a responsible kid and never got into trouble and worked hard so that I could stay under the radar and generally do whatever I wanted. Well the car went into the Autotrader and multiple people came to see the car. They would him and haw and low ball my dad and each time he would complain about it to my mom I would humbly offer him the $2500. Well some nice guy came along and bought it for his son (thanks dad) as a graduation gift. Hell of a guy. I remember that day as well very well. So well that I wrote the guys name, city he lived in and the license number down (like I didnt have that memorized). Anyways the cars gone, long gone just a memory and a dream to one day own a 68 runner. 2 years later I bought, unbeknownst to my parents, a 68 Dart which I still own to this day. When we dragged it home, thanks to my brother who was always there for me, my dad went through the roof. He took a look at it and I could see that he actually liked it and kinda wished he never sold his. Under the hood was a wounded 273, which pleased my old man and he allowed it only if I kept the 273 as the 273 never could be made fast. True to my word I made him eat his as the little 273 pushed that car into the 13s. Oh well, the 68 runner never left my though and I still dreamt of the day a 68 would come my way, our old 68 would be the best scenario. By now I am out of high school and free of my old man and his "you cant do that" attitude, life goes on and I get to work as a mechanic at the local gas station and a few years go by and a few Roadrunner go by but none fill the void and I find myself daydreaming of that sunfire yellow monster. The search begins. I still had the scratch piece of paper and I get one of my cop buddies, actually its the cop that wrote me many tickets in my Dart and its 3 inch flowmasters, to run the plate number and it comes up with an address and that its non-op status. So I did what any crazed maniac would do, I loaded up my good friend in my truck and we roadtrip 3 hours to go find the address and knock on the door only to find that the address is actually a p.o. box. Dead end, this goes on 2 more times. My dreams crushed and I gave up and realized that it hadnt been registered in ten years and I came to the realization that it probably had been wrecked and or parted out. Bummer, collosal bummer. This May I am at my bachelor party and one of my cop buddies, that I made when we moved to Orange County, asked about the Runner since he knew it well too. I said I think its dead and gone but I still have the info and I hadnt run the plates in 5 years or so. He calls me one night and asked for the plate number and he would run it. Well it came up currently registered! So I did a Zabba search of the guys name and city and got his address. I wait about 10 seconds before I found myself at his house. Worried, I kinda felt like a stalker and all but my intentions were innocent enough right? I pondered for awhile and decided that I would just go up and knock on his door. Knock knock, I wonder who will answer and will they be mad at me, well it was his dad and I remember his face even though it had been 24 years. I told him my story and asked if his son still had the runner. He said that his son gave it back to him when he lost his license after too many tickets. I asked if the car was there and could I see it? Well no, see it was at his other kids house stored in the garage. We talked for a few hours and laughed at what lengths I went to find him. Well all in all we became friends, and he was glad that I found him. We parted ways and exchanged numbers promising to get together soon to have a reunion of sorts. Yesterday I went to his house to help him work on his El Camino and see my long lost friend. I have to say that he took decent care of it, as soon as I turned the corner there it sat and immediately I knew I had found my long lost friend. I took a few minutes to check her out and say hello and remember all the good times that I was fortunate to have. We got to work on the Camino and got it running then it was off to the local Fuddruckers for a burger, it was the weekly cruise night. After a nice visit and few more calories for my spare tire we set to drive back to his house. He tosses me the keys and I politely tell him no thats okay even though I really want to go for a cruise under my heavy right foot. He insisted and told me that wasnt an option. Well I take up residence behind the wheel of the car that I had last driven 24 years ago. See my dad is an alcoholic and would sometimes, more like verytime, drink too much and then have no way home. At least he didnt drink and drive, soo that left me the 12 year old to drive the runner home. WooHoo thats when I learned to drive, well it escalated to me stealing it when my parents would leave on vacation to vegas. My old man also had a gambling problem, I bet you guys are getting a feeling of how much I like him, oh well they would go to vegas and I would exercise the runner on saturday nights for them! We had some good times, now back to it we drove towards the house and he asked me if I wanted cruise some more and who am I to tell him no? After about an hour of running it around the beautiful hills of South Orange County at dusk we get home. We say our good buys and I head home a very happy guy and feeling good that someone had taken care of my friend.
I know this has been a long rant and I am going to reward you with some pics. Now there is alot more to this story and if you guys want to hear it let me know and I will post it. Well enjoy the pics and this is how it all started for me.
