Another Mopar Off My Bucket List - Barracuda Fastback
That's when I heard a loud screeching rumble coming from the direction of the shop. It was the guy that had offered assistance rolling the big door open. I know that at times I let my imagination get away from me. I've got to stop watching TV.
Inside of the building I could see a slew of muscle car Pontiacs. Thank God he was a car guy and not some cannibal looking to fill his freezer. He cleared a stall for us to pull the Chevy into and we drove on in. After seeing the GTOs and 442s, it didn't creep me out at all when he closed the door behind us. He was really a cool dude. Despite his misguided attachment to GM, he was alright. - But I had little room to talk, - we were driving a Chebby ourselves.
Not only did he let us work inside his shop but he searched out each tool we needed before we even asked. He set up the jacks and the drain pan. If we had dawdled around much he probably would have even done the swap for us. In between the wrenching we chatted car stuff. His current project was his first 442 that he was now trying to resurrect. His wife came out and offerred refreshments. We declined because we had a stockpile inside the Chevelle. It didn't take long and we were finished and on our way again. We'd thanked them for their hospitality but knew we needed to get back on the road and didn't stick around.
Because we had become accustomed to watching the temperature gauge we continued to do so for the rest of the trip. The car still ran great but it ran about 15' warmer with this new pump. (it had normally stayed around 180' before the old pump gave way) The higher temp had us concerned but it never climbed high enough to be a problem.
It was night when we arrived at Fort Stewart. The trip that we had expected to take 18 hours ended up taking closer to 26. Neither of us had slept. So we parked the car and headed to the barracks. It didn't take long to fall asleep.
The reason I've told this story (other than the fact I love road trip stories) is that I came to realize that as much as we needed to get his car to his base, we'd accomplished much more. We created shared memories that we'll keep with us for the rest of our lives. We'll joke about each misfortune we survive. It's always more about the journey than the destination. Have I wasted all of this time that I've spent working on cars? No. Not when I include my family and friends on the ride.
