The Restoration From Hell Part Two

my star rehab plymouth 1

my star rehab plymouth 1FINDING THAT DREAM CAR

Those of you who have looked for that dream car will already understand the pain of the search process.

Most of you were just like me-scouring the free world for a project but hoping to find one in your back yard.And,just like me you probably met or talked to every scam artist that wasn’t locked up at the time.

One guy had a 59 Fury buried down 600 miles of back roads in ‚”great shape‚-if you looked past the riveted-on 70’s Dodge van roof that made up most of the floor.He was actually surprised that I wasn’t happy with a long marathon rural road trip to look at body work that would have embarassed a kindergarten class.

Some guys like the hunt-I’m not one of them.

I was really hoping to find a $2000 climate controlled vacuum-sealed 59 Sport Fury with 23 original miles right across the street.That didn’t happen because in life you always have that 880 pound gorilla called Reality.Within days Reality gets that kick in the groin out of the way by clearly outlining that this search may be the biggest adventure you’ll take.

Not the “we’re going to Disney World and Universal Studios” adventure.

This is a lot more like theI got caught drunk with 2 naked females in Saudi Arabia”‚’adventure-fun at the start but with a potentially bad ending.The kind where getting to keep your right arm but saying goodbye to the left one is considered good plea-bargaining.

This is the world you choose to enter.Be afraid-very afraid.

The Search Process.

My search began in the dark,pre-Internet years called the mid-1980s.At that time your search tools were magazines,land phones,snail-mail and the biggest one of all-the integrity of the seller.

We traveled blindly in those days and we relied heavily on colorful descriptions from surly guys in places like Dead Possum Arkansas or End of the World Montana.Always things like ‚’sure you can see it but it’s been up to the windows in mud since the flood of 1966.Come spring I’m sure the old John Deere can haul ‚er out‚”.

Another thing-trying to get some decent pictures mailed to you was like asking the guy for his 1st born-the “I ain’t wastin no 5 bucks mailin no pictures to no tire-kicker” scenario.

Despite all that I did finally find a project 1959 Plymouth and it was almost across the street-90 miles away.That’s like the automotive Holy Grail, winning The Triple Crown or a World Series Grand Slam Home Run in car world but…

The convenience and the savings from buying a local car evaporate like a house at Ground Zero of an H-Bomb test when the restoration starts.More on that later-a lot more.I like to remember the thrill of actually getting that car home and mapping out the project.

It helps me sleep at night.

Stay tuned for Part 3-the death of the warm and fuzzy part of this restoration.