Indians For Guns

Got any stories about your first car? Remember the fun time you had in that thing?


In 1987, I had just graduated from college and was flat broke. I sold all my movable property to get through my last semester. I even sent my Ruger 10/22, my Ruger M77 and my (Savage made) Enfield No.4 Mk1, home with my girlfriend so I wouldn't be tempted to sell them. After I graduated, I got a job but could only afford $250 to buy an 1972 Mercury Cougar coupe (with a 351cu. in. V8 = 5.8 liter = 300 h.p). Tons of power but too dangerous to use in that car. It would have probably twisted the frame and broken the rusty motor mounts.


image from here
Not my actual car but it looked like that, except mine had a lot of rust on it.

After 15 Minnesota winters, it was pretty much shot. Shocks, tires, body, brakes, battery, you name it; they all needed to be replaced. As was typical of those old Fords, the rear quarter panels were rusted out and you had to drive with the windows open as the exhaust fumes would come in through the trunk. Every time you went over a bump, it would shimmy from side to side, as the Pittman arm was shot. You had to follow a very precise sequence of actions to start it or it would flood and then you would have to wait for ten minutes before you could try starting it again.

I used to have to be at work at 7:30am and had to negotiate a set of railroad tracks on a curve, on the way to work. Every time I hit those tracks, the lights would go out. The first few times that happened, I almost soiled my pants as I was on a curve. In the winter, at that time in the morning, it's usually icy and pretty dark. There was another bump a little further down the road and if I hit it right, the lights would come back on. Once I figured that out, it wasn't such a big deal anymore.

I lived on a hill and one morning after a big snowstorm, I watched the snowplow come whipping around the corner towards my totally buried car. He saw the antenna sticking out of the drift and lifted his plow at the last moment and cleared the car. I remember hoping he would hit it and put it out of its misery, but ... no such luck.

I lived with that thing for a year, till I could buy something else.

Good story, XL! It brings back many good memories; good because they are memories and I don't have to put up with them today! Joyful things like replacing the heater core after it has leaked antifreeze all over the floor and blown oily antifreeze mist all over the windows comstee to mind…

The salt they put on Midwestern roads would rot anything, and where I grew up in the Chicago area, the steel mills, in particular, the coke ovens, threw out a fine ash with sulfur content. When it got damp, it made a weak sulphuric acid that would eat any car alive, even without the salt on the roads, which the county commissioners bought in abundance because they got kickbacks for the contracts.

Anyway, I had two "first cars": one was the first one I bought, but never titled or licensed it, because I had to hide it from my parents, and the second was my first legally owned car.

The first was a 1964 Chevy Impala convertible that I paid $10 for. It had a 283 and a Powerglide automatic, and most of the convertible top was missing. It never had any trouble turning over, since the engine was so worn, even a hamster in a cage could have started it. It finally came home long after I had other cars and when it was discovered where I had hidden it -- which was not an amusing story for all involved.

My first real car was a 1965 Oldsmobile Dynamic 88. It was a big 4 door car, but even big cars were not so heavy then, and it had a 425 with TurboHydramatic 400. It would go, especially after I had dropped a 4 barrel carb and manifold on it and converted it to dual exhaust with turbo mufflers. It would easily "bury the speedometer" (that was the term for putting the speedometer needle past the numbers on the dial and against the stop peg) and won for me a few bragging rights against other cars, whose owners thought it was a cream puff. It was a very well made car. The dash board was nice brushed metal and chrome, and the heater and ventilation was controlled by a radio-like panel with pushbuttons made of chromed die cast metal -- there was very little cheap and cheesy plastic in it.

Like other cars, it rusted, too, but it went and went until I sold it with well over 100,000 miles, which was pretty credible in those days. It certainly was one of the better cars I had ever owned.

Hi xl_target,
> Its truly 'nostalgia' all way through...
> The "First" has always been a sense of achievement / conquest to all of us who valued the 'pride of possession'!!!
> Be it a car, motorbike, air-gun et. al.
> Thanks for sharing and help me rewind to some of my "firsts"
Briha