I was 17 the day I bought it. Sold a four wheeler and had more cash than I knew what to do with. Went with my Dad and met an old man who didn’t need an old truck. It was built in ’76. Back when more steel was always in style. Two tone, black and white. Should have been all black. I drove it home listening to the AM radio crackle through 20 year old speakers. The sky was the limit.
This truck had a motor. A lot of motor. Four hundred and sixty cubic inches of Detroit muscle. I couldn’t wait to open it up and see what she’d do. I washed it, waxed it up and went into town. Then things went bad.
Turned out the gas gauge was as optimistic as a government economist. That was embarrassing. But, I never went anywhere without making sure I had enough to get there and back. Learned to plan ahead. But I didn’t plan for the night I hit a bump and the tail pipe separated itself from the majority of the vehicle. Suddenly, I had a very loud truck. Which I learned local authorities frowned upon. So I learned to drop into neutral when police were near.
The best part was the glove box. It was outside the cab under the bed. It had a lock, I had the only key. It soon had illegal booze in it. Did I mention I was seventeen?
I added a new stereo. Bought the cassette single of the Black Crowes, “Hard to Handle”. Cranked it up. And then added a speaker box. Built it in the garage. No headliner means no sound insulation. Between the pipes and radio I made a lot of noise.
I also learned that carburetors have a mind of their own. When I was late for school it would flood. To fix this, I put the gas pedal on the floor and cranked until all hell broke loose. The whole truck would tilt and shake. This was always an Adventure.
I can’t say that I found love in that truck, but a 23 year old found me and she was insane. We had a lot of crazy nights driving all over the place, usually over more than one limit. She moved on and so did the truck, sold it and went in the military. I’ve had a lot of nicer trucks since then, but none as unpredictable. Sometimes I miss the lack of sophistication, the not knowing was the best part.