This is the story of my first car..

[markinnaples]

This is a great story/adventure for you and your dad. Just awesome stuff Darrell.

[cook_dw]

Thanks Mark.

[novadude]

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Quote:</div><div class="ubbcode-body"> Looking back on it now, I had spent my childhood up to that point in the garage, junk yards/salvage yards working on cars (or in my case being the wrench monkey or “hey hold this”)</div></div>

That part of the story really hit home. That's how I spent my childhood growing up in the 1980s too!

From about 7-8 years old, I was out there every weekend with my Dad working on his '40 Chevy Street Rod, then his '63 Impala, and also my Mom's daily driven '68 Chevelle (later replaced by a '69 Chevelle - the car I used to learn how to drive and take my license test at age 16).

Got my first car (1965 Nova) in 1986 at age 14, two years before I got my license. Though it's changed a lot in 31 years, I'm still driving it!

[novadude]

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Quote:</div><div class="ubbcode-body">As many people of that era spray paint satin or semi-gloss black was your best friend and that was how you’d dress up a tired engine compartment when you were installing a fresh-n-shiny engine between the fenders..</div></div>

Of that era? Hell... that's what I do TODAY! LOL

Of course today I take everything apart first, but done right, you can't really tell it's a spray bomb engine compartment.

To this day, there is still no better smell in the world than the smell of fresh engine enamel cooking on an engine you've just built and installed. Starting an engine for the first time that you've build and installed is one of those thrills that &quot;ordinary&quot; people would never comprehend.

[cook_dw]

Thanks everyone for the comments and I hope everyone has had a little enjoyment out of my poor attempt to humor and hopefully tell an interesting stories and memories of my first car..

<span style="font-weight: bold">The summer of ‘96</span>
High school is coming to a close and the last great summer is on the horizon; I’m enjoying the crap out of my 69 as much as I can but with the preparation of deciding which college I am going to attend in the fall and working 2 jobs to save enough spending money for said first year of college my time is limited behind the wheel of the 69. Dad and I would spend Saturday nights going to local cruise-ins and hangin’ out with other car people in the area. One night we are heading home from going to the Sonic cruise-in; I’m of course in my 69 and dad &amp; mom are in the green 68.. It was an extremely rare occasion for him to break out the ole green machine as he had just finished the first of 2 pace cars. Now to set the stage of this memory I am in the lead position and we are coming up Hwy 70 towards Lebanon from Mount Juliet and we come up to a 4 way intersection of Hwy 109. As I would at just about every stop sign or light; I’m scoping out looking for the man, po-po, 5-0.. When it’s my turn to go I roll into the throttle and the tires break loose and I bang a few gears.. As I look back in the rearview mirror to see how many lengths I was ahead of dad &amp; mom and I see what looked like a scene from the end of days type of movie. I swear I thought I saw fire and brimstone flaming out from under of that 68 as it was bringing Armageddon from behind; the headlights are spotlighting the stars in the sky and the tail end is skating around like it were slicks on ice and he was coming.. FAAST!!
One other thing I realized that night ; as many before had, that when power drum brakes got hot they sucked.. And I don’t mean in a good way.. I remember hailin’ booty down my parents’ road after taking several hot laps on some other back roads; as I quickly come up to the turn in to our driveway I press down on the brake pedal and its solid.. Problem was I wasn’t slowing down.. I let of and apply the brakes again.. Annnnd nothing.. As I go screaming by the driveway I get it slowed down turned around and get back to the house.. I get out and see this smoke rollin’ out of the passenger side wheel.. Yeah the disc brake swap was waaay overdue..

<span style="font-weight: bold">Whhoooaaa Breeeeaakkksss..!!!..</span>
As I mentioned previously, the brake swap/upgrade was overdue.. I had a day off from both jobs and it was a nice hot day so I thought why not go ahead and swap it over.. Pops was a work and I was gonna do this swap on my own.. I’m wrenchin’ it up and gaining progress and its now around 4:30 in the afternoon and I’m tightening up the last of the bolts as dad pulls in the drive. I had a big ole look at me smile on my face as he gets out and I ask him; “you ready to pump some brake pedal..?..” He steps back and I swear it wasn’t but for just a split second he looks at me and says, “Sure… But its not gonna do any good..” I know I had a look on my face like this guy has lost his mind..!!!.. I say “what do you mean; Im done!!” He grins and with a chuckle says “you got your calipers flipped flopped..” I swear if this was a cartoon my head would have changed into a donkey head.. I thought to myself; you jackass!! So after a few minutes I had the calipers on the correct side and we were finishing up and out test driving before dusk.


<span style="font-weight: bold">Not long after the disc brake swap.</span>