Dave29
10-23-2007, 11:08 AM
I finally got the balls to introduce myself. I go by Dave, Davey boy or DH.
My first car was a ’37 Dodge Business Coupe. I got it from my grandpa. It had been sitting in a barn for several years after being stolen. I was told a sheriff’s car in pursuit, bumped it in the rear and rolled it.
My buddies & I dragged it home and tore it apart. The car ended up with no front-end, hood or rear fenders. I sprayed it red primer from a Sear’s gun. There must have been 20 lbs. of putty in it. I didn’t know how to weld in patch panels so I used fiberglass. Hell, we just started high school and were used to working on mini-bikes and go-karts.
I cruised around in it in Richmond, In. in the late ‘70’s; always running out if gas ‘cause the gauge didn’t work.
The tube axle front end would dance around if I got it over 40 mph. I think it maxed out at 60 mph with the stock flat six bellowing thru a Thrush muffler.
My folks hated that I parked the car out front of the house every night. I had to sell the car when I went to college.
I got the hot rod bug bad when I saw a bitch’n roadster running around my town. It’s called “The Snail”. I tracked down the owner and found out his shop builds these sinister hot rods.
I had to have one for myself and he said he’d fix me up with an evil ’30 Ford roadster. I bug the shit out of him every few weeks, watching it progress into a hot rod, to get my fix.
In the meantime, I’m fiddling with my ’69 Camaro trying to get it back into the 12’s after dropping in a 383 stroker. Muscle cars are ok. Hot Rods have soul.
Later
My first car was a ’37 Dodge Business Coupe. I got it from my grandpa. It had been sitting in a barn for several years after being stolen. I was told a sheriff’s car in pursuit, bumped it in the rear and rolled it.
My buddies & I dragged it home and tore it apart. The car ended up with no front-end, hood or rear fenders. I sprayed it red primer from a Sear’s gun. There must have been 20 lbs. of putty in it. I didn’t know how to weld in patch panels so I used fiberglass. Hell, we just started high school and were used to working on mini-bikes and go-karts.
I cruised around in it in Richmond, In. in the late ‘70’s; always running out if gas ‘cause the gauge didn’t work.
The tube axle front end would dance around if I got it over 40 mph. I think it maxed out at 60 mph with the stock flat six bellowing thru a Thrush muffler.
My folks hated that I parked the car out front of the house every night. I had to sell the car when I went to college.
I got the hot rod bug bad when I saw a bitch’n roadster running around my town. It’s called “The Snail”. I tracked down the owner and found out his shop builds these sinister hot rods.
I had to have one for myself and he said he’d fix me up with an evil ’30 Ford roadster. I bug the shit out of him every few weeks, watching it progress into a hot rod, to get my fix.
In the meantime, I’m fiddling with my ’69 Camaro trying to get it back into the 12’s after dropping in a 383 stroker. Muscle cars are ok. Hot Rods have soul.
Later