This ought to be fun...SHARE YOUR BEATER EXPERIENCES!
07-31-2003, 01:51 PM
#41
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OK. My 64 pontiac tempest was white with a blue interior and a white convertible top. Actually, this car was in pretty good shape, except for the fact that the heater core was plugged. This time, it wasn't really the money, it was the hassel that drove me to a different solution. To get the heater core out, you had to remove the entire dashboard! But this is Chicago, you have to have heat in winter.
In those days (this is about 1980), for about $15 you could buy a device called a Coleman heater. You know, the guys that make nifty camping equipment. These things had a frail little mantle of cloth that once ignited, basically turned to ash and all you had to do was practically speaking look at the thing and it would fall apart. Die hard campers will know what I mean. Basically, this was in reality an infrared heater.
The only problem with this device was upon ignition. You turned the gas on, and upon ignition with a match the thing burned with a brillant blue/orange flame about two feet tall for about 7 minutes or so (you had to take the top off). You didn't dare do this in the car, so SOP was to light it and put it on the hood of the car.
This usually attracted a lot of attention from the local constables, which wasn't really welcome when you were leaving the local bar at 2 a.m. on a Saturday morning. But after the flames died down and went basically "invisible", you put the top back on it and you could convienently hang it over the rear view mirror. This wasn't so great for the waist down, but the right side of your face and your right hand were kept pretty toasty. Did a good job of defrosting the windshield, and at least the front windows too. People used to always ask me why only the right side of my face was sunburned. In winter.
I went to a buddys house to watch the last half of a bears game, and it was BITTER cold outside, -22F. Fearing the fuel would be too cold to ignite, and with a full tank of gas, I left the heater on.
We were about a minute into the fourth quarter when we first heard the sirens of the Wheeling Illinois Fire Department. There was the tempest, merrily ablaze with the best visuals right above the rear view mirror. After the fire department put the blaze out, I got a pretty stern talking to by the captain of the engine company. Luckily, the fuel canister did not blow up. Amazingly, the car still ran really well, but I couldn't afford a new top, and besides, I was now a marked man, at least in Wheeling, so, I bought the 69 Impala. Still to come. And I have one extra. I did not own the car, but watch for the post about "grapebanger". It will be the last.
In those days (this is about 1980), for about $15 you could buy a device called a Coleman heater. You know, the guys that make nifty camping equipment. These things had a frail little mantle of cloth that once ignited, basically turned to ash and all you had to do was practically speaking look at the thing and it would fall apart. Die hard campers will know what I mean. Basically, this was in reality an infrared heater.
The only problem with this device was upon ignition. You turned the gas on, and upon ignition with a match the thing burned with a brillant blue/orange flame about two feet tall for about 7 minutes or so (you had to take the top off). You didn't dare do this in the car, so SOP was to light it and put it on the hood of the car.
This usually attracted a lot of attention from the local constables, which wasn't really welcome when you were leaving the local bar at 2 a.m. on a Saturday morning. But after the flames died down and went basically "invisible", you put the top back on it and you could convienently hang it over the rear view mirror. This wasn't so great for the waist down, but the right side of your face and your right hand were kept pretty toasty. Did a good job of defrosting the windshield, and at least the front windows too. People used to always ask me why only the right side of my face was sunburned. In winter.
I went to a buddys house to watch the last half of a bears game, and it was BITTER cold outside, -22F. Fearing the fuel would be too cold to ignite, and with a full tank of gas, I left the heater on.
We were about a minute into the fourth quarter when we first heard the sirens of the Wheeling Illinois Fire Department. There was the tempest, merrily ablaze with the best visuals right above the rear view mirror. After the fire department put the blaze out, I got a pretty stern talking to by the captain of the engine company. Luckily, the fuel canister did not blow up. Amazingly, the car still ran really well, but I couldn't afford a new top, and besides, I was now a marked man, at least in Wheeling, so, I bought the 69 Impala. Still to come. And I have one extra. I did not own the car, but watch for the post about "grapebanger". It will be the last.
Can't wait to hear about the grape banger?
08-01-2003, 09:44 AM
#43
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I also had a 70 Chevrolet Impala with dead red paint and a black interior and vinyl top. This car was plagued by two leaking tires. I mean you had to add air every other day, tops. Running the tires up to 32 psi every other day got old, real quickly. So, I started filling the tires to about 50 psi. Now they were good for about five days which wasn't so bad.
Well my twisted mind said if 50 is good, more should be better, right? Sure! So I started filling my two bad tires up to 80 psi. Now they were good for two weeks at a time. I was delighted!
Mom and Dad were on vacation, and it was my job to bring in the papers, mail and walk the dog, a delightful female toy poodle who LOVED to go for rides in the car.
Well the tires were low, so I decided to go for the gold this time, 100 psi! Well, it was hot, about 100 degrees out, and I had to drive about 15 miles to Dads house. I brought in the papers and took little Emeraude out to relieve herself. I had my back to the car, and me and little emmie were about five feet away from my worst leaker, the left front.
It suddenly sounded like someone had snuck up behind me and fired a shotgun about two inches from my left ear. Little Emmie was SO FREAKED OUT by this, she took off and actually broke her leash where the swivel was! She was small, but she was very sturdilly built, and boy, was she petrified.
Naturally, the sound got my attention, so I turned around. No one was there, but I did notice the car was bouncing up and down with most of the action going on near the left front of the car, it was moving up and down by a good eight inches or so. The combination of heat and excess air pressure blew out the side wall of the tire.
Now just to show you how stupid I can be, A:, I had no spare tire, and B: on Saturdays, I worked part time at a tire store, and could have had any pick of used tires and wheels for free!
Mom and Dad got back from Florida, and naturally, Emmie was overjoyed to see them. However, my little overpressure exercize left her traumatized. Also, when the tire blew in the driveway, I never saw so many neighbors come out of their houses to see what the hell was going on. Mind you now, everyones house was shut tight and the air conditioning was on, so the explosion was quite loud.
Mom and Dad could never figure out why Emmie ALWAYS "put on the brakes" when ever we got her within ten yards of a car in the driveway, for the rest of her days. I never said a word.
Well my twisted mind said if 50 is good, more should be better, right? Sure! So I started filling my two bad tires up to 80 psi. Now they were good for two weeks at a time. I was delighted!
Mom and Dad were on vacation, and it was my job to bring in the papers, mail and walk the dog, a delightful female toy poodle who LOVED to go for rides in the car.
Well the tires were low, so I decided to go for the gold this time, 100 psi! Well, it was hot, about 100 degrees out, and I had to drive about 15 miles to Dads house. I brought in the papers and took little Emeraude out to relieve herself. I had my back to the car, and me and little emmie were about five feet away from my worst leaker, the left front.
It suddenly sounded like someone had snuck up behind me and fired a shotgun about two inches from my left ear. Little Emmie was SO FREAKED OUT by this, she took off and actually broke her leash where the swivel was! She was small, but she was very sturdilly built, and boy, was she petrified.
Naturally, the sound got my attention, so I turned around. No one was there, but I did notice the car was bouncing up and down with most of the action going on near the left front of the car, it was moving up and down by a good eight inches or so. The combination of heat and excess air pressure blew out the side wall of the tire.
Now just to show you how stupid I can be, A:, I had no spare tire, and B: on Saturdays, I worked part time at a tire store, and could have had any pick of used tires and wheels for free!
Mom and Dad got back from Florida, and naturally, Emmie was overjoyed to see them. However, my little overpressure exercize left her traumatized. Also, when the tire blew in the driveway, I never saw so many neighbors come out of their houses to see what the hell was going on. Mind you now, everyones house was shut tight and the air conditioning was on, so the explosion was quite loud.
Mom and Dad could never figure out why Emmie ALWAYS "put on the brakes" when ever we got her within ten yards of a car in the driveway, for the rest of her days. I never said a word.
08-01-2003, 09:57 AM
#44
DamnThisHobby'sExpensive!
Well im 18 so ive only owned one car...thats my 97' CL...ive working my ass off since i was 14 to pay for the damn thing though...now that its payed off, its welll worth it...so yea, no beater for me...i was suppost to get a 1982 Volvo that was my dads OLD car...then my syster drove it for a year before she got her honda...(it was suppost to be our "learn how to drive for a year tester car") but THANK GOD my sister totaled the damn thing by gettin into some bumper love with another car...the cops saw theose few scratches and the damn thing was totaled...hehe...cheap POS beater...so thank god i didnt have to drive it! Nope! Its just me and my CL...im glad i got to pick the car i wanted for my first car.
08-01-2003, 10:10 AM
#45
1-2-3-4-5-6-speeeeeed!!!!
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ok, My cars in order:
@16 - 1979 Chevy Malibu Sation wagon (305 small block) crashed!
@17 - 1987 Honda Civic (slowww 4 cylinder 87hp) yeppy!!
@18 - 1996 Acura Integra Spec. Edition (ok, vtec) got mad tickets!
@22 - 1993 Eagle Talon TSI AWD (turbo 4 cylinder) lots of fun!!
@23 - 2002 Acura CL type S (can we say 260hp) very happy!!
now at 24, I will be keeping this car for a while!!
@16 - 1979 Chevy Malibu Sation wagon (305 small block) crashed!
@17 - 1987 Honda Civic (slowww 4 cylinder 87hp) yeppy!!
@18 - 1996 Acura Integra Spec. Edition (ok, vtec) got mad tickets!
@22 - 1993 Eagle Talon TSI AWD (turbo 4 cylinder) lots of fun!!
@23 - 2002 Acura CL type S (can we say 260hp) very happy!!
now at 24, I will be keeping this car for a while!!
08-01-2003, 10:15 AM
#46
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Best beater
Bought a '64 Chevy 2 with straight 6 and 2sp slushbox for $125 - drove it for 3 years with only adding a quart of oil every month. This car had REAL sheetmetal - like on an M-1 tank! Wound up selling it to a kid who wanted to drop a 283 in it - got my original $$$ back plus an extra $50. Best deal ever!
08-01-2003, 10:23 AM
#47
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Beater Warefare: This was an extention of the "torpedo" runs we used to have at the shopping malls when all the stores were closed. Back then (1970 or so), Jewel (Kroger, Dominicks, what ever, pick what fits for you) was not open 24 hours a day, and they frequently left shopping carts out, not to be collected until the store opened up again.
So, the drill was to open the drivers window, and hold a shopping cart with your left hand, and two cars would approach each other from about 150 yards apart, in a straight line. The object was to crash your cart into the other car. This started out decently enough with two car approaching each other, generally in a straight line.
Me and Mike had OUR 49 plymouth ( it cost $10, $5 each), there was a 2 door and a four door Nova, and an MGB for starters. The straight line stuff soon turned into a gymkana, because we soon discovered no one could hit the MGB. It was just too maneuverable! Imagine how the robots approach each other in Battlebots. You get the idea.
The three of us got frustrated with the MGBs success, and my buddy Mike (if you knew this guy at the time, you would swear he was the biggest loser in the world. He is now a self made millionare at age 50, drives a BMW 745i, and employs 50 people) drove the plymouth next against the MGB.
Now you have to realize, we were all VERY GOOD FRIENDS, but Mike had had enough. The rule was after torpedo launch, everybody turns left, to avoid collisions. Not Mike, he turned right, wiping out the passenger side of the car, sealing the passenger side car door shut, permanently!
Beater Warfare was born! We modified the rules to one rule, and one rule only: No sealing off the drivers door.
So now the game began. There were about 10 of us now, and if you saw a friend, say, driving through a shopping mall, it became your dutyto cave in the other three door on the car you opposed (if it was a four door car).
This had some hilarious results. Jerry, the owner of
"grapebanger" (more about him later) spied Mark in his MGB in a large shopping mall, and went after him, with a vengence.
Unfortunately for Jerry, his tunnelvision on his quest to get Mark, convienently ignored that this shopping mall had six inch tall side walks that radiated outward from the mall every 120 degrees. Jerry drove over, perpinducarlly said side walk aiming at mark, blowing four tires, bending four rims, and fucking up his suspension, royally. Mark ended up giving Jerry a ride home.
This (abnormal) behavoir led to some serious reinforcement of the front bumpers. Radiators were expensive, and used radiators weren't worth a shit. So, on went the steel I beams.
We got into roller skating, and I will never forget 12 of us, six in each car, pulling up to an empty right lane at a stoplight. There were two or three cars in the left lane of this four lane road. My 49 plymouth got there first and stopped, but Jerry rear ended me hard enough to knock me across the intersection. No one in my car looked back as this was commonplace, Nor4 did anyone in Jerrys car look sideways, or ascanse. The people in the left lane looked at us like we were nuts (and they were probably right.) After the light turned green, we proceded, like nothing ever happened.
So, the drill was to open the drivers window, and hold a shopping cart with your left hand, and two cars would approach each other from about 150 yards apart, in a straight line. The object was to crash your cart into the other car. This started out decently enough with two car approaching each other, generally in a straight line.
Me and Mike had OUR 49 plymouth ( it cost $10, $5 each), there was a 2 door and a four door Nova, and an MGB for starters. The straight line stuff soon turned into a gymkana, because we soon discovered no one could hit the MGB. It was just too maneuverable! Imagine how the robots approach each other in Battlebots. You get the idea.
The three of us got frustrated with the MGBs success, and my buddy Mike (if you knew this guy at the time, you would swear he was the biggest loser in the world. He is now a self made millionare at age 50, drives a BMW 745i, and employs 50 people) drove the plymouth next against the MGB.
Now you have to realize, we were all VERY GOOD FRIENDS, but Mike had had enough. The rule was after torpedo launch, everybody turns left, to avoid collisions. Not Mike, he turned right, wiping out the passenger side of the car, sealing the passenger side car door shut, permanently!
Beater Warfare was born! We modified the rules to one rule, and one rule only: No sealing off the drivers door.
So now the game began. There were about 10 of us now, and if you saw a friend, say, driving through a shopping mall, it became your dutyto cave in the other three door on the car you opposed (if it was a four door car).
This had some hilarious results. Jerry, the owner of
"grapebanger" (more about him later) spied Mark in his MGB in a large shopping mall, and went after him, with a vengence.
Unfortunately for Jerry, his tunnelvision on his quest to get Mark, convienently ignored that this shopping mall had six inch tall side walks that radiated outward from the mall every 120 degrees. Jerry drove over, perpinducarlly said side walk aiming at mark, blowing four tires, bending four rims, and fucking up his suspension, royally. Mark ended up giving Jerry a ride home.
This (abnormal) behavoir led to some serious reinforcement of the front bumpers. Radiators were expensive, and used radiators weren't worth a shit. So, on went the steel I beams.
We got into roller skating, and I will never forget 12 of us, six in each car, pulling up to an empty right lane at a stoplight. There were two or three cars in the left lane of this four lane road. My 49 plymouth got there first and stopped, but Jerry rear ended me hard enough to knock me across the intersection. No one in my car looked back as this was commonplace, Nor4 did anyone in Jerrys car look sideways, or ascanse. The people in the left lane looked at us like we were nuts (and they were probably right.) After the light turned green, we proceded, like nothing ever happened.
08-01-2003, 10:48 AM
#48
Drifting
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My 49 Plymouth partner, mike, once had a 67 camaro, and we went camping one time to Wisconsin, when CB radios were all the rage, early 70's. Everyone fueled up before leaving, and we had about 300 miles to drive. We were all communicating with each other (I had my first decent car, a 73 Z-28) when Mike pleaded for a gas stop. My car was half full. Couldn't figure this out, but we stopped.
Mike explained that his "oil light" had turned on, and he needed oil. Fair enough. But I asked Mike "how much oil does your car burn?" He replied "you mean, per TANK?"
Two highlights on this trip: 1: Asshole Jerry (more about him later) rubbed EVERYBODYS nose on this camping trip that "He was having Alsakan King Crab" while the rest of us were having hamburgers, hot dogs, and steak and chicken. It was VERY gratifying to see Jerry run over his cooler full of the crab legs when we sent him out for fire wood.
#2: Mike sold the camaro shortly thereafter for $500. Me and my buddie Ed, watched from Mikes up stairs bedroom window, feeling sure as hell no one would buy this oil burning POS. I mean, come on. From a cold start, this camaro looked like a mosquito abatement truck after 5 minutes at idle. Sure as hell, Mike sold it for the asking price.
Mike explained that his "oil light" had turned on, and he needed oil. Fair enough. But I asked Mike "how much oil does your car burn?" He replied "you mean, per TANK?"
Two highlights on this trip: 1: Asshole Jerry (more about him later) rubbed EVERYBODYS nose on this camping trip that "He was having Alsakan King Crab" while the rest of us were having hamburgers, hot dogs, and steak and chicken. It was VERY gratifying to see Jerry run over his cooler full of the crab legs when we sent him out for fire wood.
#2: Mike sold the camaro shortly thereafter for $500. Me and my buddie Ed, watched from Mikes up stairs bedroom window, feeling sure as hell no one would buy this oil burning POS. I mean, come on. From a cold start, this camaro looked like a mosquito abatement truck after 5 minutes at idle. Sure as hell, Mike sold it for the asking price.
08-01-2003, 11:13 AM
#49
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Grapebanger: First, I have to explain Jerry to you. Jerry served in Viet nam, and is the brother to my other friend, Ed. Ed is fine by me, but I can live without Jerry, but Jerry was a piece of work, trust me.
Jerry worked for a certain airline, and at said airline, you have to work in the kitchen (when they actually served food, as bad as it was) for 6 months with a SPOTLESS work record, before you were considered for promotion.
Last time I asked, Jerry had been in the kitchen for 17 years. And that was 7 years ago.
Jerry was an ex marine drill instructor, and he was strong, so you didn't screw with him. Before I knew better to avoid him, he lived above a bar in an apartment.
One night, we were sitting in his apartment, which gave a nice view of the bar parking lot below. One guy, who had too much to drink, decided to go out and urinate on Jerrys car, a 64 Chevy Hardtop. Naturally, Jerry would not put up with this, so he walked down the stairs, and beat the guy up pretty good.
Episode over? No. Just beginning.
About an hour later, we noticed a rather "rosey glow" from the parking lot. There was Jerrys car ablaze, with the interior on fire, the drunks revenge! We put the fire out, and the only casualties were the seats and the interior.
Now, I have to admit, for all his faults, Jerry was industrious. Jerry stripped out the useless seats, made a template out of cardboard, and introduced a new "floor", made of plywood, level with the familiar drive shaft hump between the door sills.
To compensate for seats, Jerry took a saw to his POS dining room set, and sawed them off about 1 inch below where your ass sits. We put them in the car, and did not affix them in any fashion at all.
This got very interesting, as any excessive cornering forces sent all occupants of the car shuffeling to wherever the forces were the most.
Grapebanger had served it purpose, and it was time to dispose of it. Unfortunatley, I worked at a Clark gas station at the time of the demise, but at least I got to fuel it up for one last time.
This car was such a beater, that 15 miles north of where I fueled it up, the left front wheel came off. Jerry kept on driving up route 12, undaunted. Off came the brake drum, and finally, the brake fluid caught on fire. I imagine this was quite a sight!
Jerry finally killed the car by driving it across a half built bridge that crosses route 41 in Wisconsin, and from what I am told, he nosed the car into an embankment at about 40 to 50 mph, destroying the car. Wish I could have seen it in person. END!
Jerry worked for a certain airline, and at said airline, you have to work in the kitchen (when they actually served food, as bad as it was) for 6 months with a SPOTLESS work record, before you were considered for promotion.
Last time I asked, Jerry had been in the kitchen for 17 years. And that was 7 years ago.
Jerry was an ex marine drill instructor, and he was strong, so you didn't screw with him. Before I knew better to avoid him, he lived above a bar in an apartment.
One night, we were sitting in his apartment, which gave a nice view of the bar parking lot below. One guy, who had too much to drink, decided to go out and urinate on Jerrys car, a 64 Chevy Hardtop. Naturally, Jerry would not put up with this, so he walked down the stairs, and beat the guy up pretty good.
Episode over? No. Just beginning.
About an hour later, we noticed a rather "rosey glow" from the parking lot. There was Jerrys car ablaze, with the interior on fire, the drunks revenge! We put the fire out, and the only casualties were the seats and the interior.
Now, I have to admit, for all his faults, Jerry was industrious. Jerry stripped out the useless seats, made a template out of cardboard, and introduced a new "floor", made of plywood, level with the familiar drive shaft hump between the door sills.
To compensate for seats, Jerry took a saw to his POS dining room set, and sawed them off about 1 inch below where your ass sits. We put them in the car, and did not affix them in any fashion at all.
This got very interesting, as any excessive cornering forces sent all occupants of the car shuffeling to wherever the forces were the most.
Grapebanger had served it purpose, and it was time to dispose of it. Unfortunatley, I worked at a Clark gas station at the time of the demise, but at least I got to fuel it up for one last time.
This car was such a beater, that 15 miles north of where I fueled it up, the left front wheel came off. Jerry kept on driving up route 12, undaunted. Off came the brake drum, and finally, the brake fluid caught on fire. I imagine this was quite a sight!
Jerry finally killed the car by driving it across a half built bridge that crosses route 41 in Wisconsin, and from what I am told, he nosed the car into an embankment at about 40 to 50 mph, destroying the car. Wish I could have seen it in person. END!
08-01-2003, 11:36 AM
#50
The Third Ball
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