JP Cavanaugh described the 1968 Chrysler Newport he drove for several years in the 1990s as his fountain of youth, a car from his childhood that he got to relive as a daily driver in adulthood. So it’s time for us to share our automotive fountains of youth.
I don’t really have an exact analogue to Jim’s Chrysler, so I can’t answer the question directly. The ’66 F-100 I bought in 1987 wasn’t really a vehicle from my childhood, although I did cultivate a love for old pickups during my summers spent with the Mennonite farmers in Iowa City, but those were mostly from the 50s. A Chevy “Advance Design” pickup would certainly have filled that bill. But there’s no question that driving my F-100 takes me back to my youth, so it’s as close as I can get.
Given that I’ve had it for 31 years now, just looking at this old picture of it from 1988 makes me feel like that was practically still my childhood. So if the fountain of youth involves taking one back 30 years, that works for me.
And what is or would be your automotive fountain of youth?
Any good motorcycle. If it dates from the late ‘60’s thru the early ‘90’s, all the better.
Oh yeah, if it says Triumph, BSA, Harley-Davidson or Indian on the tank, best of all.
One word: Diesel
Here’s one that probably won’t be duplicated…’59 Lincoln convertible, my first car!
One car – my 1964 Impala SS convertible. If I could afford one, I’d buy one, but like all classics I care about, they’re all untouchable.
FWIW, when I owned my car in the USAF, my future wife, who I wouldn’t meet until I was out of the service for two years, owned the same type of car in the same color, hers just wasn’t an SS!
I guess I have several,
My Grandfathers 1968 for F350 log truck. Forest green with a stakeside flatbed and dump. Rode with him a lot in that truck from the time I was five or so. I can still hear the starter turn the 352cid fe block to life and the strait pipe stacks burble as it fires. the inside smells of 2stoke gas and saw dust with a hint of the Cophenhagen suff the he always chewed. I don’t know what happened to that truck, as one of my uncles wound up with it and promptly sold it.
Mom’s 1984 Toyota tercel hatch back. It was a terrible silver color with black interior and no options, no power steering or brakes no ac, not even a mirror on the passenger door. I rode in that car every day from 9 years old untill I learned to drive and then drove it on occasion. I still have it and still drive it on occasion. All 5 of my children learned to dive in it as did all of my Brothers and Sisters (5 of us also). all of my nephews and nieces have used it to learn to drive also. Amazingly it has never had the clutch replaced.
My F 250, In 1990 at 15 I saved some money and bought a slightly used F250 4×4 diesel with 215k miles. My Dad was mad, “with that many miles it wont last through the summer”. Well a couple of years ago he admitted he was wrong. I have since put about 720k more miles on this truck and it has been as reliable as the sun coming up in the morning. We have been from one coast to the other 49 states, and 3 other countrys together. I hope I never have to part with such and old and reliable friend.
My Camry. In 1995 My wife announced that we were going to be parents, As she drove a singe cab F150 4×4 and I single cab F250, we needed a car. My family had always had good luck with Toyotas so I went and bought a new 4door Camry. I had grown up in a bare bones car and wanted something better for my wife, so I got the top of the line with power windows locks air leather seats and cd player. The wife drove this until child #3 came then I drove it until January of this year. 398k mile and never a major failure. Then it came…. A slight bearing noise I think to my self ” I need to look at that when I get home”. It didn’t happen, about 3 miles later the temp gauge rose in to the red. It was all over from there almost 400 thousand miles and I finally had to call a tow truck. I had a water pump failure and blown head gasket. I am still undecided as to fix it or not, all of my children want me to as it has been the only “car ” dad has ever had.
Big Red (the EXCURSION) As our family grew we needed more room and went through a Caravan and a Durango that were unimpressionable. in 2003 I was working at the Ford Dealer and bought a new 2004 EXCURSION 4×4 v10 in garnet red. I put in a leveling kit and 315/70/17 tires on it. Big Red has become somewhat of a legend in my small town as he has been seen everywhere and pulls every thing. All of my children have drove him to school and proms. some weddings and a few river partys . The older 4 have taken it on trips to California, Florida, Ski trips to Colorado and sightseeing to the grand canyon. We only have one left at home She plans a trip to Alaska this summer. After that Who Knows,
I have been long winded here, so I am sorry, All of these remind me of younger days and I hope no one minds.
My ongoing fountain of youth is the entire ’63-66 Plymouth Valiant / Dodge Dart ‘A’ body series:
The 1965 Valiant that my parents bought new in which I was slightly injured in in a car accident that totaled it in 1968. But this was the only ‘normal’ car purchase my father made in my youth.
Following was the ’64 Dart that was my daily transportation from ’86-’91, including 17 trips between NYC and Chicago for architecture school. It was sold to finance my Spring-in-Rome during Architecture school in the midst of the Gulf War ….. Then the 1963 Dart Convertible who’s NYC owner found me after I moved to Chicago in ’89 and demanded that I buy it because he couldn’t push it across the street anymore for alternate-side-of-the-street parking rules… (a set of new points re-enlivened it and I drove it as my summer car thru 2005), and finally, the ’63 Valiant Convertible that I replaced that ’63 Dart with because it only had 40,000 miles, and I didn’t have a giant taxi-caused dent in the driver’s door and fender that I never got around to restoring. I bought this car from a friend who’d known it since it was close to was new, and I’ve also gone the distance between the east coast and Chicago more than once in it. I’d drive it to California tomorrow if there was a need.
These cars keep going with little effort and thus keep me going. See how the line of cars goes back in time as we go forward? Each time I get in one, I get a little younger. I attribute my own gains in weight, loss in hair, flexibility and other bodily degradations to not spending enough time in these cars now and instead I’m building projects for the Gov’t….
I grew up with Volvos. As a kid we drove the stripper ones, bit I dreamt of a 245 Turbo or a 745 Turbo. A relatively unmolested one of those would do as a DD.
It seems only old Volvos and Mercedes survive the salty winter roads in Denmark. Even the Saabs built for a similar climate are getting scarce. So it’s relatively feasible, but I’m not sure I wanna go down that road.
Well, my first car at age 16 (second actually, I had a ’62 Beetle I worked on at age 14 but sold before I was driving age) was the ’66 Beetle Dad bought new when I was ten. But I totaled it in less than a year. I was working for Pizza Pete’s in 1972 in Glendale, Ca. We had run out of flour for making pizza dough, and the boss asked me to drive to the other store to pick up a 50 lb. sack of the stuff. On my way back I ran a stop sign on a side street, a pickup with camper was parked next to the sign, blocking it from view. I was T boned on the drivers side by a ’72 Mercury Capri, ir spun me around, up a curb and I stopped on a guys front lawn a few feet from his front door, the flour sack had burst open and flour was everywhere on the lawn, street, and me, still wearing my white work apron. The 3 in the Capri went through the windshield and were transported to the hospital (no seat belts), I was bruised from my shoulder to my ankle for the door intrusion but was OK. Was wearing lap and shoulder belts, glasses flew into the windshield and broke. The back seat of the VW was bent up into a U and the rear axle and wheel were stuffed under the car, the engine was hanging down almost to the ground.
When my insurance company found out I had not punched out and was working for Pizza Pete’s, they went after their insurance company and I was promptly fired.
I bought my ’70 C10 that I wrote about on CC in 1976 at age 20, and kept her until age 50 in 2006. It was replaced with a new 2004 Titan that I’ve now owned for 14 years, plan on keeping this truck it forever. I’ve only got 16,300 miles on it as of today.
Bought my 1986 Jetta GL in 1991 from it’s original owner at age 35, today 27 years
later and at over 300k miles I’m still driving it, it now has collector car plates which are available after the car is 30 years old in my state. At age 62, age 35 seems pretty youthful to me. Plan on keeping the VW forever as well.
Still have my ’85 Yamaha 700 Maxim (air cooled) I bought in 1994, 24 years ago. Haven’t run it in 2 years though, needs battery and tires, I may decide to sell it, never been injured in a motorcycle crash aside from a few cuts and bruises, now I wonder if maybe my riding days are over. I’m sure Syke will scold me for having these thoughts!
I would consider another split window VW Bus as a hobby car, but the prices people want today for even a junk example are more than I’m willing to pay.
A couple for me:
-1987 to 1992 Cadillac Brougham…Dad’s limo fleet had two of these and I’m instantly transformed back into a kid riding my big wheel inbetween them in the shop
-1988 Volvo 740: my maternal grandmothers favorite car…so much so that she kept it for 12 years…and every car since has failed in comparison. Spent many a road trip in the backseat with my cousin to and from various vacation spots
-1980 to 1984 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight Regency Brougham – Pap had one of these as a beater car of sorts to keep the miles off the 74 deVille…and the blue velour interior seemed endless to me. Not to mention the “Tempmatic” climate control, padded vinyl roof and opera lamps….other cars seemed so plain in comparison
Oh if I only had the money to buy them all and garage them!
A ’56 Chevy 2-door sedan. Small-block V8. 4-speed with Hurst shifter. Twice pipes with rumbling glass pack mufflers. Black. 150 or 210….
Yeah, I just described the ’56 that I once owned. Mine was a 150, 3-speed with hurst shifter, though.
My Father, when he had our school fees paid, went a bought himself an white Fiat 850 spider. Sadly, I never got to drive it, being too young, but my older Brother did. It was a real hoot, not very fast but good, clean fun. And yes, we use to sit on the back deck on trips to the beach; no choice really, the back ‘seats’ were……non existent!
The RX60/70 Toyota Cressida – either my Dad’s RX60 5-speed GL or the later 6-cylinder RX70 GLXi.
It would be two cars for me… a silver (with red leather and a black top) ’63 ID19 Cabriolet and a tan (with a dark brown interior, 350 4bbl and a THM400) ’69 Checker Marathon, two family cars from my youth.
I was 12 in 1969 when Interstate 85 was being built between Charlotte and China Grove, NC (The same section that is under construction now, being widened and being the biggest bottleneck on the Eastern Seaboard, sorry! Good old NC “Good Roads State” planning.), my dad somehow found a way around the barricades on one of the yet to be built exits (52, I believe) and let me drive our 1965 Catalina 4-door sedan. He was a sedan man. But I drove on the interstate at 12. That car or a 1965 Grand Prix would do it.
Dad’s ’46 Ford would do it, or a ’53 Chevy pickup like Grandpa Owen’s or a ’41 Ford one like Grandpa Kuntz’s … never got to drive that last one, but did a few driving lessons with Dad, then made a lot of trips to the dump after Dad died and we were cleaning out the house. Those were in the Chevy. All I had was a learner’s permit, but Grandpa O. rode with me on the first one and let me go solo after that. But the last time I drove one of those, my memories of light controls and easy handling were dashed by the harsh reality that all the cars I’d been driving – even the relatively old ones – were far superior in handling and lighter on the controls.
I’d rather revisit my equally lost Early Adulthood, with cars ranging from my first, a Fiat 500, through a couple of Minis, a Hillman Husky and a Peugeot 404. The last Mini was the car I had the longest, through two marriages and their breakup, and put the most mileage on. It was an 850 Countryman, the “Woodie”, and after I’d shipped it from Anchorage to Seattle we drove it down to Palo Alto. It made another trip up to Oregon and back, then down to San Bernardino and then out to Nashville. I sold it to a family who liked to do restoration projects shortly after I met my Forever Wife; I had just turned 40. My DD then was my first Alfa, a ’74 Berlina … but a Mini would do me fine.