Art & Inspiration Days of Whine and Roadsters

Days of Whine and Roadsters


Some days you just never know what’s gonna happen.
And some weeks are much the same.

Last weekend they ran the street drags here in Kingman, Arizona.
I figured 4-5 easy days to get the trailer & the 32 ready and an early Saturday morning would make it easy to find a parking place for the trailer.

I know, the races are only five miles from the house and driving the 32 would have been easy.
Trouble with that is, the support stuff for the roadster - tools, jacks, icebox, etc. - would have to be in the rumble trunk and it’s a heck of a lot easier to stick it in the enclosed 20' trailer.
Not to mention there’s no shade in a ******* roadster and Saturday would have been a long day with qualifying lasting to 7:30 pm in the evening.

The trailer’s not a bad way to go, potty room, couch, good ventilation with all the doors open and most importantly, shade.
One of the big reasons I usually run a top on the 32.

Along with all this get-ready stuff, I guess my most-cool neighbor had seen me lusting after the big pile of like-new cement blocks piled up in his back yard and told me I could have them.
A couple of days of an hour or two each and I still don’t have them all moved and like you’d think, it did eat into the prep time.

So this little part isn’t where the whine in the ***le comes from nor does it come from the little fact that my allergies flared up big time and I missed both days of the races.
Geez, I just hate calling in sick on my days off.


As for the never know what’s gonna happen part . . . yesterday I had to go to the post office and decided that the roadster looked like a fun way to do it.
The muffs were still on the car, but no top, no tools and no hubcaps, almost full of gas.

At least I had the good sense to toss in the two small toolboxes.
Those have bailed me out a couple of times.
One for tools and one for small things like wire, terminals, black tape and the like.
No spare parts on board either . . . I usually carry a spare fuel pump, but that was on the shelf.

After the post office, heading up to CK’s shop to see what was cooking seemed like a good idea.
He’s been helping a guy with a 48 Ford Club Coupe.
Interesting little car, the guys dad started it many years back, installed an SBF, C4 and what looks like an Olds rear.
The hot setup back in the day.

Ck’s been bringing it up to the standards of the better built rods of today and so far, the solid axle front end - which I always like and would use myself on these most cool fat fendered Fords - is up to snuff with a new spring, modern gas shocks and the like.

I was a bit surprised to see the SBF & C4 yanked and a 350 SBC with T-350 installed.
Makes sense, the SBC was built up a bit, had been running in the guys Dart wagon and was overall, a better motor both HP and good-shape wise.

Geez, leave those two alone for a couple days and no telling what you’ll find when you stop by.

The next swap I’m guessing will probably be for a Ford nine inch.

They’ve been working on the body and straightening a lot of dings and small dents as well as doing one small patch panel near the back of the left front fender.
All in all, the little coupe is looking pretty good.
They even got a pair of 10" x 15" slot mags almost all the way inside the rear fenders and there’s a couple of really wide DOT approved tires mounted up.

Spent about an hour up there and decided to take the long way home, down around the closed during the week swap meet, a couple miles south on Route 66 and home.

Then I got to thinking about CK’s Sweetie talking about the killer good tomatoes you could buy at the Mile 68 marker north on Route 66.

About ten miles out from the swap meet road looked like a quick and easy trip.
Looked like a fun little roadster ride and the roadster seemed to be enjoying it as well.
The car has a few speeds it likes to settle out at, 57, 67 and 75.
Works out about right for highway running here in the Dez with the 55 and 65 per speed limits on most of the better two laners and 75 on the freeway.

Like you’d think, when I got to the produce farm, it was closed.
A bit of a gamble since it’s only open three days a week, but a nice ride was reward enough and I can get tomatoes later.

Some of you may know I had a veggie garden this year.
Locals tell me it’s hard to grow tomatoes here and I gotta admit, so far they’re right.
This winter I’ll build a shade over the garden and that should take care of that from what I read and what experienced desert gardeners have to say about it.
Too much sun for tomatoes and winter temps are too low for Corona Bushes (lime trees).
Wait till next year as the saying goes.

The roadster was running so darned good that I headed north instead of south and home.
Figured I’d go to Hackberry and get an ice cream.

When I hit Hackberry where the cool old General Store is, I decided that since I was hungry I’d run a little further north on Route 66, get a sandwich and a cool one at the biker bar up the road.
Biker bar sounds bad, but the folks who were usually there were model citizens riding modern Harleys.
Hell, I’m wilder than most of them and I’m a pretty calm guy.

Through Valentine, found the bar and from the looks of things it looked like beer was the only thing on the menu so I kept going.

Hard to stop, nice day, temps in the high 80's, lots of sunshine, nice cool breeze flowing through the roadster ****pit so I figured the next community up the road would have a restaurant.

Went through Truxton, Peach Springs, past Grand Canyon Caverns and the last shot at stopping for food and liquid refreshments was Seligman.
All the places I’d gone through after and including Truxton had food, drink and the like.

You know how it is, just point the roadster or coupe or sedan down the road and sometimes you’re just along for the ride and the car is going where it wants to go.

True enough for me yesterday and I gotta admit I’m usually a little more of a Boy Scout in the Be Prepared end of things vis a vis a little trip, but thinking back to the good ol’ daze of running the 50 Ford coupe with stock, mildly built and more engines, I did the same thing.
No cell phone, no jacket, nothing to drink which is kinda stupid here in the Dez, no ice box, a few tools, no spare parts and nobody knew where I was.

It was one of those days that are a bit like going to a good movie.
The landscape kept unreeling with many surprises along the way.
I’d been on this stretch of Route 66, 4-5 times since moving out here four years ago, but there’s always something new to see.

Route 66 is like a good looking woman you see in her many different modes and style of dress.
She’s always interesting, no matter how she’s dressed and her beauty stands out at all times.
They don’t call her "The Mother Road" just for fun.


In a way, traveling Route 66 for many of us is like going back in time and seeing what was once familiar and now, to an extent, still familiar, but different.
Changes are apparent, but viewing this old road through the looking gl*** of time is what it’s all about.
Having a fast and smooth running little roadster underneath you makes a helluva difference as well.

Once you leave Peach Springs and it’s 25 per speed limit, you start up a winding road and not far away is the 65 mph speed limit sign.
A good speed for this wide and mostly smooth stretch of two lanes.

I’d fallen in with a couple of traveling partners as well.
One, a single Harley and the rider was doing pretty much what I was doing.
Just taking in an interesting part of the world all by ourselves as well as swapping the lead a few times.
Eventually he was in front a little ways and a late model almost ***ian Red Buick dropped in behind me.
I thought the red Buick would p*** me a couple of times when I got caught behind a slow running motor home with a bunch of slow running Harley’s in front of the motorhome.

Got kinda weird when the motorhome pulled out to p*** the gang of Harley’s on a long straightaway and stayed in the left lane for over a mile paralleling the Harley’s then he finally gave it the gas and got ahead of them.
Not sure, what was going on there, either they were traveling together or a minor touch of road rage going on.

I dropped back and so did the red Buick.

About the time I figured I’d p*** the Harley gang, I say gang, but they looked like white bearded model citizens to me, one of them pulled into the left lane and stayed there.
No problem for me and I stayed back.
Eventually they got down to 45 per and found the gas station they were looking for.
The gang formed up nicely and rolled off into the big asphalt parking lot.

I ran the roadster back up to 65-70 or so and eventually caught up to the slow running motor home.
I was stuck behind it for a while and when the road opened up into about a two mile downhill straight I rolled the throttle on hard and went by them about 85 per.

I think the roadsters big ol Buick engine scared the hell out of a group of folks traveling in a three car caravan who’d stopped at a wide shady spot for a picnic when the secondaries kicked in.
Did I mention the muffs aren’t real quiet?

From there, me and the red Buick pretty much had the road to ourselves.
The roadster settled out at a smooth running 67 mph and the scenery rolled by slowly.
Slowly because the nearest ridge was about 25 miles away and times like that most of us get a little introspective.
I know I do.

I have appreciation for this great country we live in.
I’m thankful to the guys and gals in the military who protect us.
As well as being blessed with owning such a neat and fun little car.
And wondering how much trouble I was gonna be in with Sweetie cuz I was about three hours out on a 20 minute errand.
Wasn’t the first time and I should have stopped and called her, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull over.

Kind of a Zen like thing, ya know?
Sure you do.

Running along in the quiet in the middle of noise, the sweet sounding engine spinning along at 3000 rpm, not working very hard, the soft rush of air flowing over, through and around the car, the barely heard exhaust note from the small muffs, short tailpipe’s and megaphones it seems like you end up in your own little world with no real distractions.

A lot of thinking goes on at times like that and that’s where the ***le for this little piece hit me.
The whine of the tires on the hot desert pavement and even the lower pitched whine of the fat six bladed stainless fan, seldom noticed, but apparent when listening for the sound of each instrument in this complex and sweet sounding mechanical orchestra.
I wouldn’t want ya to think I was *****ing or complaining or anything like that.


When we pulled into the outskirts of Seligman, al***ude 5400' and only a little sunburned, I was in the left lane for Seligman and the red Buick was in the right lane for Flagstaff and points east.
They waved, I waved and we went our separate ways.

I’d bet that the red Buick driver had a roadster in his past somewhere.
He knew enough to stay back far enough to avoid the sand and small gravel that comes up off a highboys tires and I’d further bet he’s thinking that maybe a roadster would be a fine thing to have.


Cruised through Seligman, lots of interesting places to stop and more than a few good places to eat.
I went through town and out the other side aways, found a Shell station and fueled up.
Checked the oil and it was down a quart.
I’m still having oil vapor issues with the PCV system and lack of a baffle inside the engine.
I think I have the cure figured out, the pieces are finished and ready for install, just gotta take the time to do it.
A couple of real easy afternoons should be enough for that.
Even so, the engine doesn’t pump oil vapor overboard like it use to.
The oil/air separator system I made took care of most of it, it’s that last little bit I need to finish. Like many of you, it’s hard to tear into a good running car for what really is a minor problem.
Maybe a few days of rain a couple weeks from now will give me the time I need.

I was impressed with what the Shell station had done as far as a funnel for adding oil went.
I’d grabbed a GatorAde and a quart of 10-40 Pennzoil - I run 20-50 Pennzoil in the summer, but the wrong oil is better than no oil at all. The way I figure it I’m now running 15-45 . . . I know, the math ain’t accurate, but what the hell.
Anyhoo, the guy at the register asks if I need a funnel.
I was thinking I’d rather pull the hood side panel - two Dzus ****ons and that’s it, easily done - and pour oil right out of the bottle than pour fresh, clean oil through a grit and dust laden filter.
He hands me a big old cone style Dixie cup with the bottom cut off.
Clean, use it once, toss it.
Simple ideas are always the best and that was one of the best I’d seen.

Got 15 mpg on the trip down.
Part of that was 11-13 mpg in town mileage so I figure I was getting 16 mpg on the highway.
Most of that due to running 65-75 per and the 3.70 diff ain’t a whole lot of help.

Got a nice set of 3.00's and it will be interesting to see where the mileage goes after that diff goes in.
I’m guessing in town mpg will be the same, but 18-19 mpg is with reach.
Maybe better if I keep it under 65, but the doggone little roadster has a mind of its own and will creep up to where it wants to run.


Back into Seligman, stopped at the Road Kill Café.
Ordered a Corona and a BBQ sandwich . . . it was touch thirsty out.

I know, Corona’s seem to be favored by the Yuppie generation, but it seems to be for good reason to me.
Im my opinion, Mexicans brew the best beer in the world.
A particular favorite, Bohemia, but it’s not always available.

I realize I’m getting older - ain’t we all - and tastes change, but I’ve been having a helluva time finding a good tasting American beer that tastes like beer ought to taste.
The Valium beer they’re serving up nowadays seems to have a lot of the pizzazz knocked out of it.
Perhaps done for the softer and unappreciative palates of the younger generation.

Anyway, the BBQ sandwich was ok, but killer ****y hot.
I ate most of it, drank the Corona, got in the roadster, drank some of the Gatorade, fired up and took off.

Figured I’d head for home on I-40 which junctions into Route 66 at both ends of Seligman.
Interestingly, it’s 95 miles between Kingman and Seligman on Route 66 and 70 miles between on I-40.

Nice ride home, especially after I tightened up the headband on the ol’ ball cap so it wouldn’t keep trying to lift off in wind gusts and when the big trucks p***ed.

No probs with the big trucks, they are professional drivers and were easy to travel with.
Little weird looking across the lane at spinning lugnuts, but I didn’t stay next to them for long.
They were on a mission and slid on by with no troubles for me.

I hear an occasional local ***** about the trucks, but I think the truth is, they’re too damn dumb to stay out of the truck lanes or even give the big trucks a break when they need one.
Truck drivers have always been good to me, especially when towing and I try to return the favor whenever I can.

I was definitely glad to have the ball cap along.
With no sun visors on the roadster the drive home into the setting sun would have been a total *****.
Didn’t get all that sunburned either.
A little surprised considering Kingman is at 3300' al***ude, Seligman is 5400' al***ude and not a whole lot of difference in between.
Ultraviolet is way stronger at al***ude than it is at sea level.

Getting into the outskirts of Kingman, I think I spotted the piece of property where the dragstrip will be built.
The local organization has the money and just has to get all the permit and political BS out of the way.
I’m guessing that in view of the local politico’s allowing street drags, a dragstrip proper won’t be too difficult to get permits for.

Hit the Kingman off-ramp, slid into the east end of town, hit the close to home Quickie Mart/gas station to grab some cold amber ones.

Almost always, there’s a really nice gal on duty in there and she seemed surprised to see the roadster running *******.
She asked why and I told her just for the fun of it.
A little adventure through life as it may.

She commented that she wished she could do things like that whenever she wanted.

I asked her, "When you get there, will you?"

She was looking thoughtful when I left and I hope the words stick with her for a while.
I think they will.

Many of us don’t get many opportunities to do things like this, but when you can, you need to do them.

Someday, there will be no more tomorrow’s and you don’t want to be sitting there thinking . . . if only....


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I really regret not having my camera along.
I almost always do and I missed some good photos on this trip.
Understandable though, I’m sure you noted the total and complete lack of preparation prior to embarking on this little adventure.

I offer up a photo of the author taken by the author taken on a similar trip on Route 66 last year.
Photo location, about ten miles south of Hackberry.

 

Just read the book....now waiting for the movie to come out.
....

 

Thanks, That was a good read, like I was there with ya.

 

Thanks Jay. I can visualize that whole journey.

My mind kinda wanders when coming that direction to visit my folks.....especially if I'm in a hot rod....no radio....no other noise except the wind and the powertrain.

Only a couple years and I will be free of the old daily grind, I can hardly wait!!

 

whoa, I'll have to come back to this one later.....

 

C9=Talented writer

Thanks Jay

 

BTTT from page 7 already

SWEET story jay. i enjoyed it as always.

thanks jim

 

That just made my evening!

Thanks for the read, and im waiting for the next

 

LONG read, but a fun journey.

 

Thanks,for taking us along for the ride. I kept waiting for a problem to happen,since you stressed the lack of preparation,sure glad it never happened.

 

Do about the same thing a few times a year --- From Prescott to Seligman, just to get a buger, fries and a cold 1.
Enjoyed the read.

 

Nice read, Thanks!

 

thanks!

 

that just lifted my mood some as im sittin here waiting for news on my wife , shes havin a cat scan and a biopsy today for suspected kidney and lung cancer

 

Damm, now I'm going to have to get my roadster done. Great story

 

Very Nice Jay!

-Jay

 

As a fellow roadster owner ... I can really relate to your day.



Sometimes when I am down a little, not feeling real good or just worn down by life's little issues ... I can get in my old 32 roadster and just head out aimlessly and before long, I am smiling and the world has no worries for me.

 

Irresponsible?

I prefer nutzo....

 

Nice pic, great color combination.

Your last sentence says it all.

It takes a while before some people realize the car owns you and not the other way around.

I don't often let the 32 run out hard, but I think it appreciated the 80 per p*** of the motorhome.
I can only imagine what the wound up engine at full song sounded like to the picnic folks sitting at the edge of a previously quiet road.

To paraphrase Nancy Sinatra, "These cars were made for drivin'."

I may even have some new rock chips, but I definitely have a helluva bug collection going....

 

C9............beautifully written piece....have to admit I was waiting for a description of the *breakdown*, .....glad there wasn't one........

Thanks for sharing your writing talent on a subject we all like to hear about....

Happy trails......

CB

 

Good read Jay. Years back I would take my Duece out just for the noise. Brea Canyon was nice before the freeways etc. Good for you!
Ron

 

Great story, just wish we had those wide open spaces around here to get out in the roadster like you do.
Just might have to head south for a few months in the winter.
HemiDeuce.

 

My dad grew up there, Carbon Canyon oil field company house owned by C.C.M.O.

I learned to drive on Brea-Olinda oil field roads.

 

Very good read. Took me away from work for a while that's for sure. Definitely would make a good book or movie.

 

Was reading a little fast and first thought you said "there's a really nice gal on duty running *******"! Had to re-read that one!

Nice writing... I was with you the whole way. You can lose yourself in your car and can really do some series reflecting.

 

As a fellow roadster, owner I think you captured the true reason some guys are simply roadster freaks. Thanks for a great read; its refreshing to find a car guy who can spell and write in complete sentences.

 

Ahh... that made for a great little get-away in the middle of a hectic day.

 

Great story, Jay. It's truly 'Zen and the Art of Roadster Maintenance!' (Remember that book?
Fearless, with a '32 Rad Ram powered roadster

 

Good story Jay!!----I must admit, when you mentiond "TRAILER" I just about p***ed on that thread!! I would liked to have joined you, but the temp. & snow here is a mite cool!!-----------Don 'ol Randy sure looks good cruzing in his deuce!!!

 

Trailers be good for bringing broken toys home.

Lotta shade inside as well....