Did you abuse your parents cars?

He he he....
They always were full of gas when I returned them though!

 

Do you know much tire smoke you can make by side stepping the clutch pedal in a Chrysler New Yorker that has a Gyromatic transmission and a hemi? Better yet my bud Kenny had cut outs put on his mom's tri-powered Cad Eldorado convertible.

 

If you didn't you probably wouldn't be on here.

My dad had some pretty fast cars and a fleet of tractor trailers. I worked in the fleet garage from when I was a kid......that or move furniture.

Tractor drags on Industrial road when he left for the night, I haven't thought of that for many years!

 

Yeah i did but not as much as i beat up on my pontiac, soon realised that i better buy a truck if i wanted it to handle the abuse i dished out. i still drive my cars hard and it amazes me how much abuse that the old 62 falcon i have with 170 and 2 speed fordomatic (original motor and box, i'm the 3rd owner) has and still endures.

 

A baby blue '79 AMC Concord would do what you call "drifting" nowadays, on left turns once you put on a set of the cheapest Tire Kingdom hard as rocks bias ply tires... You can also make one fly over the far side of railroad crossings... repeatedly, until your friends say "stop it, I'm about to puke."

 

Wow, I think abuse may be too kind as a description for what my two brothers and I did to our parents cars! One memory that really stands out was a late night experience in my dads 1978-ish Dodge Aspen (my dad was NOT a car guy at all. Cars were good for transportation, and that was all). Out late one night with a buddy of mine, I think I was 17 at the time, we came across two good looking girls in a late model Corvette (early to mid eighties). The girls teased us for a while, and we followed along, chasing them across the streets of Staten Island. This must have last about 30 minutes, with them slowing just enough for us to catch them, then taking off again at speeds the Aspen just couldn't compete with. We continued our pursuit though, thinking what a score this would be when they finally pulled over (yeah, right!). I guess they finally became bored with us, because they took off down a side street, took a few more turns, and lost us. We didn't want to give up, so I floored the pedal, hoping to catch a glimpse of their tail lights on the smaller side streets. I was probably cruising along at 75 mph when we crossed a street with a huge dip in it. The Aspen slammed into the dip at speed, then bounced back out the other side. I held onto the wheel tightly and managed to keep the car straight as I slowed down to a more realistic speed for the side streets. We never did find the corvette, so we headed back home. When I turned the car off and we tried to get out, neither front door would open. After climbing out the windows, we assessed the damage, and it wasn't good. Hitting that dip in the road at such a high rate of speed was not good for the old Aspen. The frame had bent up and the fenders hd been pushed back over the front of the doors. Needless to say, my dad was not happy when he went to use his car the next morning. I think that was the last time I was allowed to drive one of their vehicles!

 

I still abuse my parents cars when I borrow them...

 

Parents were away for the weekend. I had the 78 bronco. Temp Learners permit.
I had a buddy hanging out with me. He was 18. We had strick intructions only to drive it when needed.
So we needed to drag race it....and we needed to bury it in the lagoon right below the Parde Island bridge. The year 1984. We buried it the night before spring break started. I caught total hell for that.
Despite the fact that I could have been decapitated that night ...stupid 3 inch morring line snapped.


Test drove the Step dads 86 mustang with a turbo t-5 5.0 engine. i told him it would not take WOT shifts.......3rd gear makes one helluva noise when it is sheared in half. The rear tire lock up too!

 

No I was little Tommy goody 2 shoes. Boring as hell but cheap insurance.
The closest I got to screwing up was in a snow storm with a couple of buddies egging me on. My mom's pristine 58 Del Ray 2dr post. (I'd love to have that car in that condition today!) 6 Cyl stick. They kept saying get on it!. I finally did leaving the stop light. Of course the little 6 broke the tires loose and it reved up until it suddenly quit. Oh shit! I was sure I blew it up. I didn't know whether to shit or go blind. I was so scared.

It would turn over but it wouldn't start. This car was as dependable as the sun. One of the guys must have had it happen to him. He knew exactly what to do...pull the air cleaner and pry open the choke plate that had sucked slam shut. That scare put me back on the straight and narrow. I love to do donuts in the snow but only with my own stuff.

 

Outside the little town I grew up in there was a country road with a spot called tar hill. I used to take my mom's '84 caddy seville and my dad's '84 1 ton 454 suburban out there and destroy the tires.

To this day I don't know why my dad never whipped my ass for the rubber covered stainless trim across the bottom of that caddy. I guarantee he knew what was up having street rods and vettes around all the time, but he let me get away with it. Love that guy.

 

abuse? nah. Destroyed, yes.

11 years later the chunk in the curb and the gouges in the sidewalk are still there, where it's mortal life expired at my youthful hands. Erik Carlson, I am not.

 

totaled my dads 72 chevy pickup 3 days after getting my license.flipped it upside down while dukeing it down a gravel road.that was 29 yrs ago,still have trouble borrowing his truck.

 

I can't say anything since my dad drops in on here occasionally.

I can say that my sister has totalled several of their cars, but I have never.

 

way back in the middle 60's I drove my mom's 60 Studebaker 4 door lark to school, ect. I also repaired the car as my dad did not like to work on cars. Through my junior and senior in high school the lark ran considerbly faster 1/4 miles times and my senior year the Blue Lark was one of the fastest cars around. But the shocker was toward the end of my senior year someone complimented me on beating a certian car on a run on east main. The trouble was I did not remember that race, so I asked what day and time. You guessed it He had raced my mom and she beat him, Leaving work on the end of her third shift job on east main. She never mentioned it to me and I never asked.
By the way last year at age 85 my 4'10" mom filled 4 of her 5 deer tags, I can't wait till sunday to see how she did this year. Hopefully in another 25 year I have that much gusto.

jim h

 

Who, Me? Abuse my parents car? NOOOOO, not Me! I dunno how that dent got in the door...
When I was 13 years old I used to take my dads 53 Studebaker for a little joy ride early in the morning after I got done throwing my pater route. One morning I picked up my pals the Papovitch Brothers and we headed out to Pacifica from
San Francisco. I got pulled over in Pacifica because the copper could see two hands on the steering wheel but not my head (hey, I was a short kid). That, and the fact that one of my cohearts in crime was looking out the back window and his eyes got as big as the moon. The police had a good laugh as they knew we wer't bad kids, we were just kids. Mrs. Papovitch was did not think this was funny. I got grounded for a Long Time.
Yes, I still hang with the P. Bros. 45 year freandship.

 

One day I took my buddies out for a ride in my dad's fairly stock '32 Tudor sedan. Five guys in the car and taking a hard left turn at about 45 mph wasn't good.

Needless to say when the Tudor rocked hard to the right and got on two wheels, it was enough to make my shorts instantly brown and gave me a new respect for not being an a-hole and taking my dad's stuff without permission.

Also, I had to bring the tire down to get a 4" lag bolt pull out of the Deman's WW and patch the right rear tube.

It's been holding air for about 20 years now so I guess I don't need to tell him.

Good thing he still had dial up internet and is probally not reading this...

 

Nah, I haven't really abused my parents cars. I'm still driving them, though, since my car isn't inspected yet... My mom has a lame-ass GMC Safari fan that's a freakin' slug. I hate when I have to drive that, but I drive it sometimes, but never abuse it. If you got on that thing it would roll over and die. My dad, on the other hand, has a Cadillac DTS with a Northstar in it... I try to baby it, but sometimes I'll goof around and "race" my brother's SVT Contour.

 

Pops had a 67 Chrysler New Yorker with the 440 and my older brother and I used to be the block long rubber burnout contest winners. Dad couldnt figure out why the one rear tire was always shot and the other was like new. It was the old man's fault cause years earlier when my mon wouldnt ride along to church he'd put the old girl down and my brother and I would try to reach the front seat back from the rear seat, it couldnt be done, just to much torque....he also bought a 67 GMC pickup new with a V-6, four speed and high speed rearend. My older brother took me the first showing of American Grafitti and on the way home we spun shit-hooks on the highway for about 45 minutes...we was pumped up............

 

Mom had a '62 Studebaker GT Hawk 4 speed - learned a lot about changing clutches and motor mouts. Dad was too smart - first time I drove his Jaguar 3.8 MK2 was the day I bought it from him. From then On I abused my own stuff. Still do too.

 

My brother shot our fathers car ,,does that count?

 

Oh hell yea - '69 Chevy Caprice, 327, Power-Glide. "Neutral-Drops', BAY - BAY !!!

 

I took my Dads 72 GS 455 to a popular street racing spot in the Southbay one night with some buddies of course,I thought the thing to do would be to smoke the tires out of the gas station across the street and come into Nogales parking lot.It appeared to me that the two driveways lighned up boy was I wrong.I came out of the gas station with that big ass quadrjet wide ,open tires boiling and proceeded to go up the curb at Nogles.People were jumping on their cars,in the bushes cussing and yelling.I just kept my foot in it head down and went right out the other driveway and went home before I got chasde down.I got home and swapped cars and went back in a buddies car and parked with the crowd.I got out joined the conversation about the crazzy SOB that almost hit my car nobody found out.That was over 20 years ago. I will tell ya what I have 2 boys one is 13 so I am keeping my cars locked up,chained down tires off on blocks.

 

Of course I abuse my parents cars.. How else would I figure out:

How fast a 1998 Honda mini-van can go.
How bad anti-lock brakes are on said Honda.
How much abuse a E-brake can take.
and lastly, what happens when I put the rear tires on serving trays and drive around, slowing wearing down the tires 'till they finally blow out?

Oh, and also I figured out how good I am at explaining how I was nearly killed.. Taking my moms van out and doing doughnuts in a small town parking lot when the drivers side front tire blew out..

I love small town Oregon.. Sometimes..

 

My car always stayed blown up from street racing, so I had to treat theres with respect, or I would have to walk. Didn't take me long to figure out I had to have two cars, one for transportation, one for play......

 

I jumped my moms volvo about a good three feet off the ground about 50 feet in length down titus street in San Diego.

With her in it.

 

is there really such a thing as 'abusing' a Volvo ?? those things are indestructible

 

My parents didn't have any cool cars, but you might be surprised how much tire smoke a '92 Corolla can make when you dump the clutch at five grand! It was a pig, but that Corolla was way more fun to drive than the '87 Escort my mom drove before that (the car I learned to drive standard in)...that thing wouldn't get out of its own way even if you did dump the clutch.

 

I got my license in 65. The first time I took my parents car went off without a hitch. The next time I got stopped for running 2 stop signs, and speeding. The cop knew my dad so he let me off, but called my dad. I was told I couldn't have the car for a while, but my parents were having a party one night and didn't want me hanging around, so they told me to take the car and go for a ride. I picked up some friends and we were cruising the infamous (in our area) river road, it was a place famous for the road races between 2 towns. It was raining, and I was racing a 64 riviera with my dads little ford fairlane, he would really lose me in the straights but I'd gain on him in the turns, until I lost it in a turn and hit a new ford galaxy head on. Luckily my car was starting to spin when I hit him so I spun off him and continued spinning up the road. Very eerie the radio went off the lights went off and there was nothing but the wooshing sound as the car spun down the road and finally lurched to a stop. We were all a little shook up but no one was injured seriously thank God. I stepped out of the car and the lurch I felt was when the car hit a pile of dirt, it was the only thing preventing the car from going into the raging icy river. The driver of the other car and his girl friend were only slightly hurt thank God again.
Well, that was the end of driving Dads car, I spent the next 2 years riding a motorcycle summer and winter, we'd get a snow day off school, I'd go visit my girlfriend on my motorcycle slippin' and sliddin' all the way. It sucked.

 

64 impala ss, 72 chevelle ss, mom's big block caprice...naw I babied those suckers...my Dad saw me doing donuts in the Glenbrook shopping center parking lot...when I got home he told me that he had seen me do it...took me to my bank and had me withdraw 140 bucks and took me to the tire shop and had me pay for four new tires for Mom's car...since I was making a whopping 2 bux an hour the lesson was definitely learned

 

My dad had a 66 Ford wagon with a 390 and a 4 barrel. I took it up to 100mph on the 210, then when I let off it backfired and blew up the muffler.