We need to qualify this a bit. Not a truck, go kart, mini bike or motorcycle but, yes… a car. Romance has been defined with our sweetest partners however, it was started with our first owned vehicle… our bastion of independence from our parents. I’m sure you remember it well (with rose-colored glasses).
Mine was a 1955 Ford sedan with a V8, three-on-the-tree, a hand choke, and six-volt electrical system. The compression ratio was so low, you could probably turn over the engine by hand to start it. It was a beautiful red with a cream top and brown interior, and rubber floor mats. It weighed less than when new because of all the Michigan rust. The underside of the engine would never rust because of all the oil blowby. The tire tread was only four inches wide and somehow exhibited good traction. You couldn’t shift fast without tearing out second gear synchronizer rings. That’s why I always had several spare transmissions because I liked to shift quickly.
The little old lady sold it to me for eighty-five dollars. That was the whole price… not just the down payment. I didn’t care. It was a three thousand dollar Caddy to me. You get the drift. Somehow, of all the forty-some cars and trucks I’ve owned over the years, the first one had the most vivid memories. I’m sure you’d like to tell me about your first car too.
Until next race,