" How Many Milk Crate Seat Storys Are Out There.."

See, this is motivational. Thanks, Fingers!

 

Dont want to beat this thread up but I do have a real-life story. In 1976 I traded a 1964 Country Squire Station Wagon with a stretched timing chain for a "rock-solid" 1955 chevy 210 sedan with a Blue-Flame 6 and 3 on the tree. I wanted to show it to my boss at the custom shop I was working at. For some reason, I don't remember why, I didn't have the bench seat in it at the time. I put a milk crarte in it to sit on, took some license plates off of my father's garage wall and drove the car, no registration, insurance, or inspection. I got stopped by the local police. During the stop my father drove by and just gave me the STARE. I was able to talk my way out of any ticket because the cop happened to be getting his Harley painted at the shop where I was working. After the stop I went home and walked into my house. When my father asked me about it I was all cockey saying that I knew the cop. My father told me that if I drove that car without any paperwork again he would "smack my nose around to the other side of my face". Needless to say my days of driving an unregistered car while sitting on a milk crate were over!

 

In my dad's 1932 Sedan, we used cinderblocks to go on first cruise our senior year. It was freezing and there were no windows, except the windshield. We went for a cruise, hung out at Sonic and ordered ice cream all while freezing. Man we were cool!

 

O/T but.. The other day I asked my Dad if he ever rode around in a 32'.. His face lit up as he lifted his head, from the car mag. Telling me he used to drive, Al Brintley's, 32 tudor sedan. They (Dad & Uncle) wanted to buy it.. but they couldn't bring it home at the time. B(

 

My Dad told me a story about his first car that he bought around 1959... It was a '40 Ford coupe with a 283 chevy, but needed a new transmisson. He got the car for 3 dollars and a pack of gum, from his friend's older brother. Him and his friend put in a good transmission and went for a ride with milk crates for seats, since they car had no interior. They went down a dirt road, and my Dad decided to kick it down and spin the tires when they were going around a corner... the milk crate tipped over... they went right in the ditch and rolled on to the roof in a ditch full of water. He said they nearly drowned before kicking their way out of the car. I asked him what he did with the car. He said they just left it in the ditch.

 

Hey J. J.,
This is the most wunnerful thread ever! Time to resurrect it.

In 1958, my best friend Gus and I scrounged up $30 and bought our first car - a bone stock Model A coupe, from a farmer who lived about 15 miles out of town. This was in Oregon, the gas cap was long gone, and so the gas tank was rusted out and wouldn't hold gas. The farmer said "No Problem", and he gave us a funnel and about 5' of garden hose, which he hose-clamped onto the hex on the carb inlet. On the 15 mile drive home, I sat on the passenger milk crate and poured gas out of a gallon can into the funnel. The gas went down the hose, which went out the window, down through a louver and into the carb. We did have to stop once to buy another gallon of gas. But Gus was a good driver at 16, and I never did fall off the milk crate. So this is proof that milk crates can be perfectly safe seats. Gus got the milk crate, but I still have the funnel today. What a great memory!

 

I was bring my car home from the exhaust shop on a milk crate as I was stop at a red light . An SUV stopped next to me the lady looked inside the coupe and she sees me sitting on the milk crate and she busted out laughing. What can you do but laugh with them.

 

When doing the interior of my car we also did some light body work. So while the seats were out I would have to move the car in and out of the "garage". First try I just sat on the floor and had my buddy tell me when to stop and how much to turn. Second try I had a bucket to sit on but had to turn my head sideways as to fit under the roof. Finally stole a milk crate from work and took it around the block like that. Worked good until my fat ass almost broke through!

 

This thread does make me laugh and smile.. and so did your story! I lived in Washington State, and had family that lived in Oregon. It's all beautiful up there!

I learned to laugh at myself a long time ago.. everybody else does! (A quote from my favorite Ziggy cartoon!)

A friend of mine used a folding lawn chair, that did just that.. it folded up when he let the clutch out of his 57 Belair H.T! This thread raises my spirits!

 

This thread reminded me of a few stories from my past

In the Army, my 5T had no floor and just a bucket to sit on for about 4 months while they were trying to fix the tranny. Still had to get the goods where they were needed though. Haulin howitzer shells, food, people and fuel, double clutching, sitting on a bucket with the jack shaft only inches from my pant leg.

My Nova in high school, the factory foot pedal didn't work right and my secondaries wouldn't open, so, I tied a rope to them and ran it through the fire wall.

I had a Pinto in college that had a pair of vice grips for a steering wheel. The day we found out we needed a new steering wheel, was the day we were doing laps on a dirt track with it after school and the steering wheel came off in my hands. I looked at my buddy and said, here take the wheel. He about shit as we piled into the berm.

Also while in college, I was nearly arrested for breaking into my own car. I had locked the keys in it, so I borrowed a tire iron from a friend and broke out a window. Turns out the cop was just down the street.

Then there was my beater cavvie, the shifter cable was getting stiff, so I just kept welding longer chunks of pipe to the shifter. Finally had to junk it when the shifter reached the ceiling. It also had a motorcycle rack welded to the roof so I could haul my kids motorcycle around. The smell from the fire from welding that on made for nice ambiance when hauling the ol lady to the grocery store in it.

 

My dad, brothers and I were trying to free a stuck clutch in a 31 Essex, used a 5 gallon bucket as a seat while dad was pulling with a 68 international. Had to pull the tranny in the end, but drive it around the yard on the bucket

 

Damn J, just stumbled on this one just now. Didn't have a clue this was yours when I posted on it about 1 1/2 years back. pg.3 #49.

 

How the hell did I miss that one.. That should be an Olympic sport, right there. Core muscles an a lot of upper body strength, needed to pull that off! Bravo-Bravo!

 

When I was 19 or 20 I took my BBC powered 39 cpe on it's first drive. I didn't use milk crates, I used a bucket.... Anyway I was tooling around a vacant lot working the wire I had tied to the throttle, pulled it a little too hard, nearly fell on my ass by the time I had managed to get out of the throttle and on the brake, only to discover that I couldn't turn to the right at all.

I was a little freaked out that I just had a "major malfunction".... when I got out of the still running car and walked around the front I noticed that my new battery was wedged between the frame and the right wheel and leaking acid.....

I had left it unsecured in its firewall mount and after hitting the brakes it came to rest on the front of the frame.....

My wife who was riding on another "bucket seat" beside me (where there was nothing to hold onto) was not impressed in the slightest.....

Damn I did some shitty work on that car....

 

I think this is the first crate/bucket story, with a woman involved.. She's definitely brave 'or' she really didn't know, what she was in for!

 

My second car was a near-twin to my first car, which was a '52 Plymouth Cranbrook - a '52 Plymouth Cambridge. Ran and drove great, but it had no front seat at all! I stuck a Coca-Cola crate on the floor and drove it six miles home. I was twelve at the time. This ended up being my first engine swap, as the Cranbrook engine chucked a rod!

 

i had a jeep id just got running and was taking it to get the floors spraylined.i used a 5gl bucket to set on.as i drove it up the trailer it tried to die so i hit the gas alittle ....i flipped backwards and about drove the jeep over the end of the trailer and into the truck...good thing it was running so bad or it would have been ugly...

 

We were both young and dumb, she knows better now....

 

Holy wow! Real ugly

Funny how fast they learn, isn't it! Hahaha

 

We came out of a bar one night to find that someone had stolen the buckets out of my friends Chevelle. We borrowed a couple of empty beer cases for the ride home...

 

Does a block of wood count? Dropped off a seat to be reupholster to my 53 and drove back on a block of wood... short ride. Bet I paid better attention to my driving then anyone around me. Short ride too.

 

When Mexico was safer we used to drive to San Miguel de Allende.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" /><o></o>
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The Chevy truck factory that assembles the frames/drive trains is on the other side of the desert from the cab works.<o></o>
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It was not uncommon to see several bare truck frames being piloted by a guy in goggles sitting on a wooden chair flying across the desert at 80+ mph.<o></o>
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Funny as hell.<o></o>

 

How about the front seat not being bolted down. Did that this afternoon on the way to thake the car to my paintin' spot.

 

I would think anything other than a comfortable seat, falls into the category!

I can imagine that perfectly.. sounds like a job with percs!

Sometimes patience, just isn't in the cards.. The things we do!

 

I built a '49 chevy pickup and bought a camaro with a blown tranny with a potent small block in it - went through the motor and perked it up, added a new tranny and transferred it all along with a B&M megashifter to the truck and installed a Firebird front clip and a 3.42 posi - and first drive was with a 5 gallon bucket for a seat holding the shifter on my knee and having to hold it with two hands when shifting.

no bed - no front fenders or hood - just the cab on the frame with the new running gear. . . it was less than safe at any speed.

 

My dad always had paint buckets lying around the garage so i used those quite a few times.

 

"Anderson" made me do it.

 

This story should be a winner for stupidity. Just out of hi school back in '70, my best friend buys a '57 150 2 dr to roundy round in. Just a body on wheels. So we go to tow rope it home, with another friend following. I'm the sucker in the '57. As we are going up a hill alongside the fish hatchery, the rope lets go. So now I am rolling backwards, no brakes, trying not to go over the edge down 100' into the hatchery pond. I'm sitting on a tire on a wheel, as I recall. Turn around to steer, and the wheel comes off in my hands, it ain't even bolted on. So now I'm thinking, no brakes, no steering, time to bail out. Damn, no door or window cranks and the windows are all up. I am screwed. That's when the friend following us realizes what is happening, and let's the '57 roll into the front of his car and stops us. Tied it back up and continued the rest of the way home. What fun times you can have when you are young and dumb.

 

One of my favorite stories from my dad.
When he was 15(fall of 1950), his best friend just turned 16 and already had his first car, a '29 Ford Phaeton! No headlights, bald tires, cable brakes, front seat only, with stolen milk crates in the back next to the gas tank out of a boat. He vividly remembers bombin down the back roads to the next town, to pick up chicks of coarse. Holdin on to the milk crate for dear life, wondering if they would be able to stop, then havin to race home before dark. Spliting hairs between sheer terror and pure joy.
He often refers to it as being "the day I first got the hotrod bug, and I haven't been right since".
I love my dad!

 

I know this is an oldie but goodie, But I had to share this story.

I have never drove on a milkcrate or bucket or anything but a bolted down seat, Because of this very story!

My friend's brother had a late 70's K5 blazer that he was building. He had the top, doors,and tailgate off. It was a 400 sbc/ granny 4spd. We just got it running. He was putting around the yard on a milkcrate UNTIL he saw all the girls at the nieghbors pool. He aimed it straight down the dirt road that ran between the field and the row of house. I heard the 400 twist up and He popped the clutch. He flipped over backward rolled head over hills out the hole where the tailgate should have been. Well He was wearing a pair of carpetner jeans, The hammer loop caught the ball on the tow hitch and it drug him down that dirt road for atleast a 1/4 mile before it hit a hay rake and stopped. His brother, me and the girls were laughing so hard our ribs hurt for 2 days. To this day 22 years later we still call him Roadrash!

Thanks for all the laughs, I really enjoyed the read today.