History Talk about memorable road trips in you Hot Rod or Custom

About thirty years ago, I flew from Minneapolis to Texas and picked up a stock restored '36 Ford I had purchased. As soon as I had gone about 50 miles, it started starving for fuel, I'd stop, look at everything, and when I tried to start it, it would start right up. This went on through most of Texas until I realized that after I filled it, I could go about 100 miles before it happened again, and from then on it got worse and worse until the next fill up, and then no problems for a couple of hours. From then on, I just filled the car up every 100 miles. When I pulled into Muskogee, Oklahoma, the bank thermometer said 102 degrees, so I found an old service station, and the good ole boy there agreed to change the oil for me (the service bay was not air conditioned). That day I made it to Pittsburg, Kansas. The last 30 miles were in the dark with no lights. When I turned on the dome light to consult my map, the main fuse blew extinguishing everything. I tailgated a semi into the next town of any size, which was Pittsburg. After I checked into the motel, I walked back to my unit, trying to figure out what to do next. I saw a couple of old cars go by so I flagged the next one down and discovered it was cruise night in Pittsburg. With no lights, I joined the cruise. I met some nice folks and had a good time.

The next day, I took off, and when I got to Kansas City, decided it was time to fuel up again. I took the first off-ramp I could find and ended up at grimy gas station in the worst possible part of town. Some of the "citizens" were eyeing my fancy car, so I got out of there as fast as I could. About 20 miles down the road, I started getting a strong oil smell in the car. I stopped to check, and found that in my haste, I had left the oil fill cap back at the station. Not wanting to back track, I took my jack knife and mutilated an empty pop can into a makeshift oil cap and took off. The rest of trip was pretty uneventful, and I arrived home (about 30 miles southwest of Minneapolis) about 6 PM.

The reason this was so long-winded is to show what a great experience it was, and therefore how well I remembered every detail. Would I do it again? Sure, if I was still 55. I would be willing to bet that if I had taken off from Texas and cruised back to Minnesota without a problem, I would have barely remembered the trip.

The problem ended up being an old rag floating around in the gas tank. When the tank was full, it would float above the gas pickup; get below a half a tank, and it would get sucked into the pickup. Turn the engine off and it would float away.

 

1984. The KKOA was bringing an all Kustom show to the East Coast. with the help of custom guy, Cecil Proffitt, they put on a show in Virginia Beach, at a KOA campground. My chopped 55 Olds was only finished less than a year ago, but my GF and I decided to go.
We drove down from north NJ, with only a little rain. But once we hit Virginia, it got real bad. Hurricane Diana. Checked into the host hotel, and stayed in that night. The next day, the storm got even worse. Couldn't leave the hotel. But the best thing about the whole weekend, was being stranded with other diehard custom people for the whole day. One of the vendors sold VHS tapes, and we sat in a conference room and watched old hot rod/custom videos. We got to know most of the serious custom guys on the East Coast that weekend, and stayed friends forever!
Sunday, the last day slated for the show, the sun came out, and we went to the slightly soggy fairgrounds. Got to see all of our new friends' car, at last! The beautiful day capped an unusual, but wonderful weekend. Sledscene East was held one for year at Virginia Beach, but then moved to Hanover PA, then Abbotstown, PA, and finally settled in Gettysburg (Biglersville) for the rest of it's run, 2008.
Here's my Olds on the Bay Bridge tunnel, what an experience crossing that!!!!!

 

Don't know how I missed this all these years!
Let me tell you about our first trip to Back to the 50s, way back in 1995. But first I need to give you a bit of background.
I had the 35 Dodge 2 door trunk less sedan I was building from a pile of rust (my 1st HAMB era car). It had been one of those in progress projects for a couple of years, but on July 7, 1994 I opened my own welding shop, part time. The 35, which was just a rolling shell at that point was moved into the 3rd stall of the building I was renting, with the intend of filling in any gaps in work.
The 1st couple months, some amazing progress took place on the 35 project, but the time I could work on it kept getting smaller. Since I was still working a full time job, then did the welding shop after the real job, there wasn't much time for anything else, so the only time the 35 got was when there wasn't anything going on in the welding shop. I did notice pretty quickly that a lot of guys were stopping by once a week to watch the progress on the 35, and that was bringing in work.

By 6 months in, the 35 was actually starting to look like a car, and at least some progress was being gained every day. One day I was looking through one of the car mags, and saw the posting for the 1995 Back to the 50s in MN. It looked like fun to me, and was still 6 months away, so when my wife and son came by the shop for supper (our daily event at the time), I was showing her about it. We discussed the idea that the 35 should be road worthy, based on the progress I was making at the time. We decided I would stay at the shop an extra hour every night (Mon-Fri), and just work on the 35 (Who needs sleep anyway? 4 hours should be OK). We registered the 35 for Back To The 50s! Little did I know that things at the shop were about to get really busy!
Real busy. I was booking welding jobs 3 weeks out! I had to take the 35 home because I needed the shop space. I ended up quitting my real job and going full time at the shop. It took 3 months to catch up!

The welding shop shifted to my day job, the 35 switched to my night job. At that point the 35 didn't have any electrical wiring, the motor hadn't ran since I pulled it out of the donor car, there was no glass, and no interior. The Back To The 50s the car was registered for was only 3 months away! Some of those guys that had regularly been showing up to see the progress, started helping! One guy ran all the gas and brake lines. Another helped me wire the car. My wife and son, would help when it was time to do something with the interior. About a month before BTTF, the car ran and moved under its own power for the first time. By this time the 35 became the full time job, nearly 20 hours a day's worth of full time! Two weeks away, it went and got the windshield and rear glass bonded in. The week before, I drove it around the block for the first time. That last week, there was 4 other guys lending a hand!
My wife had arranged for someone to watch our son for the BTTF weekend. The plan was for us to leave Thursday morning for the roughly 400 mile trip to MN. The Wed night before we were to leave a local drive in was having a Cruise In. Our plan was for my wife to pick up our son (he rode a school bus) come to the shop to get the 35, and she would follow me in the 35, that up to that point had only been driven around the block, the 10 or so miles to our house. I was going to change, then she would follow me back to the Cruise In. After the Cruise in we would go home and pack the car. I think that whom ever was watching our son was to pick him up at the cruise in, but I'm not really sure, I do remember the lack of sleep was catching up with me.

The plan was going well, right up to the point where my wife was going to follow me home. I was about 1/2 way across town when the motor reached the thermostat temp for the first time ever, and promptly blew the top off the radiator! The car had no hood, so the hot coolant mostly hit the windshield. Apparently, there was a mouse nest inside of the radiator that my quick flush didn't remove. I pulled the car to the side of the street, jumped into my wife's car, and told her to drive me home. At home I recruited another radiator, the tools required to change it, and a couple gallons of water. We drove back to where the 35 was parked, I changed the radiator, filled it with water, kind of dumped the remaining water across where the radiator blew its contents, and drove to the Cruise In. After the cruise in, I had my wife follow me back to the shop, (the head lights and tail lights had not been checked yet at that point, only the brake lights). I checked everything I could think of, and my fife followed me back home. We made it that time.

In the morning, when it was time to leave, I was still pretty tired. I had convinced my wife she could drive the car once we got to the Interstate (about 90 miles away) and I would sleep a few hours. I filled up the gas tank (another 1st), and we stared heading towards the Interstate. The car actually drove really well, it had great brakes, and the 318 in that light body was fun. The joy didn't last long though.
We got about 30 miles north and the car started spitting power steering fluid out of the power steering cap. Of course, that all landed on the windshield, fortunately we were right at a gas station when that happened. I bought a very expensive, small bottle of power steering fluid, it only took about 1/2 the bottle, and then I cleaned the windshield and hit the road again. I noticed my brand new speedometer was way off, like 30 mph off. Running with the traffic the speedo told me I was driving 105 mph! I also noticed that at about 90, by the speedo, the motor was pushing a bit of oil out the breather. That too was hitting the windshield, but at least not on the drivers side. About then, the power steering spit up again, and I had stop to clean the windshield again. It took the rest of the fluid the little bottle from the first stop had left in it. With a clean windshield, we were off again, for about another 30 miles. Then the power steering spit up again. This time we were near a farm implement store. I bought s big jug of PS fluid, another couple quarts of oil, and a roll of paper towels. We were just a few miles from the Interstate. I got up onto the interstate and stopped at the rest area a few miles up the road.
I gave my wife what I thought was pretty simple instructions. Keep the speed under 90, and if there is any problem, pull over and wake me up. We swapped seats, and I was awake enough to be sure she was on the interstate and rolling.
I believe I was out for a couple hours. When I woke up, I noticed that the side of the windshield I was looking through was covered with oil. I also noticed my wife was passing every car in sight, fast! I kind of looked over at the 160 mph speedo, and it said we were cruising along at 140 mph! The gas gauge (which was also new) said it was empty, and then I realized we hadn't put any gas in the car since we left our home town. About that time we zoomed past a sign the said there was gas at the next exit, 2 miles away. I kind of suggested I was hungry and that we should stop at the gas station that was coming up at the next exit, which we did.
We went in and ate. Then we filled up the gas tank (it still had 2 gallons left), added a quart of oil, checked the PS fluid (it was still full!), cleaned the windshield (again) and looked for the source of the oil leak. I deemed everything was pretty much OK, considering the past couple of months, and was ready to depart.

As I was circling the gas pumps, something didn't feel right in the back of the car, so I pulled into a parking space and looked under the rear end of the car. I quickly noticed there was a space between the leaf springs and the rear axle! The rear axle was literally hanging by the u bolts, about an inch above the leaf springs! The car didn't have a trunk, but there was a storage area behind the rear seat, accessible from behind the seat. That meant I had to remove everything that was piled on top of my socket set. Apparently, tightening the U bolts was one of the things that got missed over the last couple of months. I know for sure, while my wife was cruising down the Interstate at probably 100 mph, the rear axle was not touching the leaf springs it was suppose to be bolted to. I tightened the bolt up and all was well. I thought maybe that thought was better if it was kept a secrete from my wife. Other then pushing some oil out of the breather at what I estimated was 70 mph, the rest of the trip to Mn was uneventful. We arrived in time to check into the registration, then headed off to find our room for the weekend.

At this point, the 35 had some primmer spots, some original black paint, some sanded bare original steel, some rust covered original steel, and some new welded in steel. No hood. No side glass, and no door locks. We woke up Friday morning to heavy rain. We ran into a grocer store and bought a box of large size black (the only option) garbage bags. I found out I had to split the seem to get them over the top of the doors, at least the front seats would be mostly dry, and i could cover the motor if it wasn't warmed up. Other then the minor oil leak at highway rpm, the car performed flawlessly once we got through the rough start.
It might not sound like it, but my wife and I had a ball! We had never been to such a large street rod show before (car count that year was around 6,000).
After we got home, I found out the oil leak was caused by a plugged up air breather in the valve cover. I did make a hood for the car, and I gave it a brushed on coat of Red Oxide primmer. Every week I made improvements on the car, and we drove the wheels off of it. Over the 7 years we owned the car, we put 77,000 miles on it, most of those in the first 6 years.
I only have a beginning picture, and an ending picture of the 35.

 

Road trip: The Spring Fling, Pigeon Forge TN, around 1997.
We were still driving the 35 Dodge 2 door trunk less sedan. By this point the car had around 30,000 miles on it, was still in primmer (got panted at the end of that summer), and I had installed a fresh 318 because of the amount of driving we were doing. That motor had around 1,000 miles on it when we left town. Our son, now getting close to driving age, was a permanent fixture in the back seat when ever we took the 35 cruising (which was pretty much every weekend through the spring, summer and fall).
The one way trip to Pigeon Forge was just over 1300 miles, and the trip there was a pleasant drive. We arrived the day before the show started, and it was just down the block from where we were staying. This was our first ever trip into that part of the country (we have been there several times since), we loved that area.
We arrived there pretty early on the first show day. They were not very thrilled with my primed car, but they took my money. They had us park way over towards the side. I didn't have a problem with that. After having been to the Back to the Fifties a few times, the vendors at that show were less then impressive, the count was way lower then we expected for a "national show" and the quality of the vendors didn't seen as high as we were expecting either. We did manage to see some really nice cars, and we had fun despite the show being a bit less then we expected. The day started out really nice, but by noon, the sun was gone, and a chilly wind was picking up. Somewhere around 3pm, the rain came down by the bucket fulls. We were hanging around in one of the buildings. When the rain let up, we decided to head back to our Hotel. When I started the car, it had a bad misfire. Fortunately we were close to an exit, and got out of there before the masses left as well. About 3 blocks away, I found an auto parts store, so I stopped to see why I had a sudden miss fire. The car has open sides of the hood. I discovered one of my plug wires was gone. As not there anyplace. The car ran fine for the 1300 miles and then driving around before the show, but a plug wire bailed from the car, either at the show, or the 3 blocks we drove from the show to the parts store. I'm not jumping to conclusions, but it seemed pretty odd to me. I bought a set of plug wires, and a set of plugs, just in case. I installed the missing plug wire, and the misfire went away. We drove back to the hotel. The next morning I was up early and changed all the plugs and plug wires.

We elected to by pass the 2nd day of the show and check out the area. That was a great plan, it salvaged the entire trip. Pigeon Forge has some pretty cool stuff to see there. As for the car show, we won't be making that mistake again.

On the Sunday, we extended our trip from Pigeon Forge down through Galveston TN and then through the Smokey Mountains and into North Carolina, where we pretty much turned around and went back to Pigeon Forge. It was a very nice drive through some very pretty country. We started the uneventful, but pleasant drive home Monday morning.

 

Gene,

Smart move on touring the area. Sherry and I both have relatives in that area so we go there pretty regularly. We haven't run out of cool mountain roads to tour so far and doubt we'll live long enough to see them all. We've done many of them, in Clarence and late model cars and on (uh... hum... a H-D). You don't really need a tour guide or suggestions; just take off on any road and it'll be a good time.

 

Atch, We have been there a few times since that first time as well. I have another road trip about one other time coming, as soon as I have time.

I'm going to see if my wife has any pictures of some of our Vacation trips (we took pictures on many of them, but they are not on my computer). We have taken many vacation trips in our Hot Rods.

 

Sixteen hour road trip with some club mates in the 3W with the blown flathead, blasting up the to beach races in northern NSW.

Was a 2500+ km run.

Raced on the sand .....then drove it home.

Great road trip !

 

When I first got my '39 Chev coupe on the road I drove it around locally in just the primered body to make sure all was good before stripping it down again to bare metal for paint. I had 500 miles on it and was feeling pretty confident about it when I decided to drive it to an annual get together myself and about 18-20 others did each summer. It was about a 500 mile drive each way, and easily done in one long day, but I usually drove either my old '69 Suburban, or a daily driver car. I decided to take the '39 Chev simply because I'd set it up with an overdrive trans specifically to do some road trips.
I left home on a beautiful summer morning about 5:00AM and took my GPS to plug in and let me enjoy the trip without needing to keep watch for specific turns, and let it tell me where to turn. That ended up being an issue later as for some reason the Garmin GPS decided to take me someplace other than my destination!
I'd driven about 8 hours and for a couple hours nothing looked familiar? I was supposed to be taveling along the Columbia River headed up near the Canadian border, but instead I was in Eastern Washington mostly sagebrush, and dry rocky areas!


I stopped to see if my cell phone might help me locate where I was, but no cell service! I tried reentering my destination in the GPS, and headed off again. About an hour later I arrived at Grand Coulee Damn and shortly after leaving the damn my GPS told me "You've arrived at your destination!


I found a gas station and asked directions, and a gentleman there pulled out a map and showed me where I was and where I needed to go. I'd been on the road for about 500 miles, and according to his map I had probably 200 more miles to go! A pretty big detour, so I headed back West to get on track. My usual 8 hour trek ended up taking about 11 hours, but I was actually enjoying the drive so much that it didn't really bother me. Of course when I got to my buddy's place everyone told me they had been wondering where I was since they expected me much earlier.
Stops along the way for gas, food, or bathroom were always fun as people wanted to know about the '39 and how far I'd driven from, or where I was headed to. The '39 drove flawlessly and with 3.73 gears and a .67:1 overdrive the well built SBC still averaged 17-18 mpg through mountains, and deserts, plus stop and go through small towns. My 1000 mile round trip turned out to be about 1250 miles round trip, and I was actually a little sorry it was over as I got closer to home.

 

just did the same misstep at Biggs jct 3 yrs ago--ended up in baker city oregon when i thought i'd be past spokane!--saw a lot of idaho getting to whitefish!!

 

Living on Long Island, you have to go through New York City to get anywhere. There was always, traffic, accidents and overly aggressive drivers. I did enjoy going to Englishtown, which was about 100 miles away, but took two hours to get to. In the earlier years I would go to race and in the latter years I would go to the show. One year I went to the Mopar Atlantic National with the 57. I pulled in and there were a few spots in the front row. The guy at the gate said to park anywhere. I went to pull in and a guy came over and stopped me. He said those spots were for his club members. He did not say it nicely. I was looking to have a nice day and not get into any arguments, so I went and parked in the last row. About 10 minutes later a kid about 17 or 18 years old came over to talk to me. He said his father's magazine, Mopar Performance, was one of the sponsors and wanted to do a photo shoot and put my car in it. I agreed and followed him to a location they had set up and they photo'd my car. After it was done two of the guys from the magazine asked me to follow them back. When we got there, they went over to the guy in the first row who said I couldn't park there and made him move his car so I could park there. The guy who moved did not say anything and stayed away. Talk about looking like a fool. My car was in the Nov. 1989 issue. I'm sure that guy didn't buy a copy. When I go to a show, race, swap meet or cruise I am always in a good mood and try to be nice to everyone. I am 77 years old now and I still like cars as much as when I was young.

 

Every time I hear of Long Island I think of the movie Sabrina. Doesn't everyone on Long Island live in $25M mansions and have a gorgeous chauffer's daughter?

 

You guys have some great stories! thanks for sharing! HRP

 

Hello,

When we were some of the only teenagers driving and surfing in various Baja, Mexico locations, they became popular. Despite us not telling anyone about the locations, eventually, others from So Cal got the idea that there is surf in Mexico. So, as we were able to get to the locations during Spring Break early, like Friday morning, while others were still at school or work, those locations were empty until the middle of Saturday of the vacation days. Why not Saturday morning?

Most folks get up leisurely, have breakfast, load up the van or station wagon and then head down South around 10 or 11 am. Then since it takes about 2-3 hours, don’t arrive until the afternoon. By then, we surfed Friday morning since we drove at 2 am to get to the surf spots at the crack of dawn. It was usually empty and only a few surfers who were with us laughed at each other on the waves without anyone else trying to catch the same pristine waves. Since we got almost “surfed out” on Friday, the Saturday morning was still empty due to the normal late arrivals. So, the “early bird” theory gets the pristine empty wavesby arriving very early.

Jnaki

One year, we were driving down the coastline and saw several waves breaking on a curving beach from the highway. There was no parking to be found, but the road curved and now we were climbing up a steep incline. At the top of the incline, it gradually dropped down to a flat highway and low and behold, one of the most popular surf spots along this whole coastline. A San Onofre Style open beach with rolling waves and families all enjoying the surroundings.

We went out in those fun waves and surfed for quite some time. The swell was not huge, but, it was consistently bringing in waves for all to ride. But, as we were sitting out in the water talking, I could not help notice the tall cliffs that curved to a point and then beyone we could not see. It was the glimpse of the breaking waves we saw earlier when we started the cliffside climb up the hill.

But, the shoreline was rocky, parts were having the waves crashing on the rocks and almost making it impassable to get to those waves. As the waves moved toward the beach, the folks in the water could not see the face of the waves and it looked like a surge and that was it. But, I said we should drive back to the opening down the cliff road and see what is there for parking.

Soon, we had driven back to the opening of the road that we saw some waves coming toward the beach. That was just a glimpse, but the reward was on the other side of the cliff. Soon, we found a gate that was open and drove slowly toward the cliff’s edge. Upon gazing out at the ocean, it looked like the end of the world and we were looking down at the beach approximately 100+ feet below. Yes, they were breaking and now, we could see the peak and long lines moving towards the shoreline. But, how to get there?

Note:

The open field was fenced in at the highway, but as we drove toward the ocean, it dipped enough to hide us from standing in front of the old cars and looking at the waves. No one would suspect we were gazing at a new surf spot down below. We kept walking along the cliff top edge until we saw a little crevice that opened up to a wider dirt trail that led all the way down the sloping cliffside to the sand and rocks below. It was going to be a difficult walk downhill with our heavy surfboards.

Then as we were walking down the trail, thoughts of walking back up the trail was brought up and we all laughed. As we were walking down the trail, empty peaks were still rolling in towards the rocky shore with some sand. No one was out riding the empty waves. So, as we paddled out, it was strange surfing along a tall cliff side cove. But the waves were outstanding. We all got empty waves to ride by our selves and if we squinted down the beach, we could see ants wandering around on the sand and black dots in the water. It was the San Onofre Beach Style location, but far, far away from this pristine surf spot near the cliff.

Note 2:
Many years later, my wife and I took a trip down to the same spot in Baja and was flabbergasted at what was there. No more empty field from the highway, a community of buildings, shops and restaurants popped up and now, it was a destination point. Signs pointed at what was in store for travelers and “ocean view… what ever” was the main thing shown. We stayed in a resort 50 miles South and did not go to those empty places when we surfed as teenagers. They were no longer empty and very touristy, that ruined the whole concept of surf trips to Baja Mexico. YRMV

So, where do the traveling surfers go in Baja Mexico for surfing? Farther down the coastline are small coves and somewhat hidden surf breaks along the shoreline. Far enough away that most traveling tourists would not like to go there. The places we used to go to on our early Baja, Mexico surf trips?

They have been overrun by every traveling surfer and his family over the years and is no longer a mysterious place of undiscovered locations. Yikes… but, for us, one cannot forget those classic memories of empty beaches and waves that could be ridden by only a few friends…