Work Trucks Of My Lifetime – 1972 Ford F350 And 1973 GMC 7000

I recently recalled a CC article where the author shared his experiences with driving early 1970s Chevrolet cabs. He went on to tell of their lack of power, handling and proper maintenance.

This began me thinking back of one of the first jobs I held: delivery driver for Wally’s Farm and Garden Center in Fort Myers, Florida.

The year was 1982, I had just graduated high school and was 19. Looking at things as a 61-year-old, I’m simply amazed at the way our trucks were pushed to, and oftentimes over the safety threshold. However, by some miracle, in my almost 3 years there, I was never pulled over for anything.

The business owner was Wally, a very kind man who grew hybrid Hibiscus plants. And I mean award-winning, just beautiful plants. Wally had a passion for anything that grew and he had an extensive nursery. Then, there was my direct boss, Roscoe. I learned to respect the man with the 6th-grade education. He had quit school to help his dad support the family, so he unloaded box cars. He handled all things vehicle, pick up and deliveries. Another fine gentleman.

One thing we carried was bulk cypress mulch, and we sold so many full truckloads of it.  The truck for the mission was a well-worn 1972 F350 with a 300 inline-six and a four-speed with a low first great. The bed was between 10-12’ in length and about 5-6’ wide.

Wally, never the one to understand, or even care about vehicles or proper safety standards, asked my boss Roscoe to build the sides up high enough to allow 14 cubic yards to be hauled at a time. So Roscoe used a steel U channel in each of the stake holes and built the sides with 2×6 boards, fastening them to the channels with carriage bolts, nuts and washers. The rear gate was a one-piece unit that swung to the curbside  because, you know, having a one-piece 6’ wide gate lends itself well to tight spaces, like the smallish streets of Sanibel Island (a place I must have driven back and forth to some 700,090 times.)

This chart, borrowed from the Internet, gives the best visual.

So, as one can see, this looks relatively safe, giving the height and the excessive weight. Seems fine. I don’t know what the rear axle ratio was, or just how hard we really were on this vehicle. I do know that when second gear was selected, it made a noise something like a spoon dropping into a running garbage disposal.

The only issue I ever had with the F350 was the muffler trying to leave the scene by coming free from the piece of chain that held it together with the front half. It eventually did. And on quiet, peaceful Sanibel Island. So that made me popular with the neighbors. That would be fixed in the next six weeks, right after a customer called Wally to complain about the noise.

Those were budget-friendly vehicles!

The other major player in our up-to-date fleet was a 1973 GMC 7000. Wally needed a truck and decided it would be best to buy a used unit from Trans Florida Express Company, because it would not be too worn out or anything…

The GMC could be heard rusting away if you were quiet enough. Also, the truck had been on fire.

It seems the reason I was hired was because of the total lack of any common sense of the man I replaced. The story was told that while driving back from delivering a Purina Chow order in Naples, he was sitting at the stop light waiting to turn from US 41 and onto Gladiolus Drive. Suddenly, the 366 engine caught fire in a big way.

There was a Mobile service station on the corner so, not knowing really what to do, he jumped out and ran to the station. However, instead of asking for either help to put out the fire, or even if they had an extinguisher, he handed the clerk a quarter, wanting change so that he could put a dime into the pay phone to call Wally for instructions on what to do.

Thankfully a mechanic in the service bay saw the fire and ran out with a large fire extinguisher. He was able to put the fire out, but not before all the wiring was burned.

I remember looking at the gauge cluster for the first time. All of the orange needles were amazingly still in place and appeared to have been passed over an open flame, just charring them enough to look slightly burnt.

Since the truck was now completely inoperative, it was towed to our mechanic. Kevin, the mechanic, was a laid-back person who had done work on all of Wally’s vehicles for many years, and had a real understanding of how best to handle things for Wally, like running things like replacement engines by him. Wally just wanted the bottom dollar and how soon could they be pressed back into service!

Knowing that we were a rather large retailer of Purina Chow, Kevin also knew that this truck hauled some serious weight. So he found a fitting replacement: a Chevrolet 454 with a 4-barrel carb and dual exhaust. What a torque monster. I believe that truck could take a building off its foundation!

We picked up our loads of feed from a larger warehouse about an hour north, and we usually made the trip to pick up a load every 2 to 3 weeks. Normally Roscoe would take care of this, but occasionally I would pinch-hit. My turn came around and it was the first time I had taken the GMC monster out on the freeway.

So Roscoe gave me some helpful advice on how to drive the thing and what to look for. Due to not having a fuel gauge and only being able to guess that it got 2 to 3 miles to the gallon anytime we drove that truck it was filled with gas.

Roscoe explained to me that the only way to tell the speed was when you hit 55 the front of the aluminum box would buckle back and forth repeatedly. He said that was about the fastest. I should drive the truck because it really didn’t have any front work done on it and didn’t have the best tires. That was fine with me. I didn’t feel I needed to try pushing it any faster than that anyway.

I arrived earlier than normal on a Wednesday morning to make the trip. I wanted to check the oil to make sure everything looked OK and top off the gas tank. I hopped up into the cab and was just about to turn the key when a rat came out from under the seat, ran up my leg across my stomach and out my arm through the permanently down window on the driver door. I believe the rat was about the size of Ohio! Roscoe thought it might be smaller!

Anyway, we made sure there was no other vermin family living in the truck and I went about my business.

I started up 75 north towards my destination and sure enough, the front of the box buckled constantly. I knew that I was at about the right speed and it actually drove pretty well. The only issue was that the transmission was the original four speed with the granny low first gear. Therefore, you could only go about 4mph in first.

When I got to the feed store, I was simply told to back up to the dock and that it would be loaded for me. Now I’m not the best at understanding loads and weight, but I’m pretty sure I was driving back with a load that was probably over the weight limit. Allow me to explain and maybe you all can tell me.

Think about the average size of a feed bag. They weighed in at 50 lbs and were stacked 10 high on plastic pallets that were a few inches bigger than the bags. So I had two rows of that stack, nose to tail. As near as I can figure, that would be about 15 stacks on each side, or 30 stacks total.

So 300 bags times 50 pounds each should total about 15,000 pounds.

On my way back, I was coming under the overpass of 75 and could see about a half mile before the overpass was a convoy of five dump trucks. I wanted to see if I could get into the traffic without making any of them move over.

I pressed the accelerator stick to the plywood covering the gaping hole in the floor and rowed through the gears. That four-barrel was sucking in as much air as it could. I was almost to the end of the ramp when I put it into fourth gear and I did it!

Man, I was feeling dapper. And now I was really impressed with that ole GMC. (And what is my daily driver? An 18 Sierra!)

I was about 15 minutes from the store when a terrible storm came through. Remember the always-down driver’s door window? Yeeeaaah!

But I did learn a life lesson. The box on that truck was always kept dry and I was told not to unload until the rain stopped. Wally explained that if any of the feed got wet, and got mold or mildew, and an animal ingested it, that animal could get very sick. And that was a very big liability for Wally.

Anyway, I want to wrap this up by saying that I really enjoyed that job. It helped me grow, taught me some morals, and allowed me to work for Wally, who I would later learn served at the Battle of the Bulge. And Roscoe was active in the National Guard. Those men have passed away. But I can still share my memories

 

Related CC reading:

Curbside Classic: 1973 Ford F-350 Super Camper Special – Ford Goes Camping In A Superlative Way

COAL: 1972 Ford F-250: Middle Age Spread