Tondeleo: OK, I admit it. I'm not much for working on cars, getting dirty or racing or any of that. I don't like loud noise unless it is loud music. But I DO like learning, and I like helping people and I like having fun.
Doc took me over to his friend's house early on Saturday morning, to work on a race car of sorts. His friend is like Doc, in that he doesn't have any real money, but he likes to create and make things, and make the best of a bad situation. Pat's house has a metal garage out front that's almost as big as his house, and there are a lot of cars and pick up trucks, in various stages of being dismantled, repaired or stripped out to be sold for scrap metal.
Out in front of the garage was a rather torn up Mitsubishi. The windscreen was broken, the headlights were clouded over and useless, and it was dented up. I couldn't see any potential in it whatsoever. Doc informed me that I was looking at a future race car. I could not believe it.
Doc: Tondy, racin' ain't always about big money. The kind YOU are thinkin' of is big money. But we aint got that. So what are we gonna do... not race?
No, we're gonna do the best we can. Like with this car, someone gave it to Pat because it had problems. Dented up, busted windshield, bad lights and some other issues. The AC don't blow cold. I don't know all the issues, Tondy, but it was bad. But it DOES run ok. Trans and rear aren't bad. Now, it's worth about $10 per hundred pounds as scrap metal. Pat's gonna turn that car into scrap metal, and get a couple hundred bucks for it.
But first, he's gonna have some fun with it, racin' it on the dirt track at Potomac Speedway. He's gonna finish bustin the glass out, strip out the interior, pu;; the door handles off and a bunch of other stuff. The trunk [boot] lid and doors will have to be chained shut for safety. He'll have to put hood [bonnet] pins on it to make sure it doesn't fly open. He'll take off the exhaust - the cadillac inverter's [catalytic convertor] worth a few bucks. He'll save that for cashing in on later.
Pat's got a bunch of old roll bars and pipe from other junk cars what he raced, so he's gonna weld in whatever roll cages they say he's gotta have. I don't know about that, but he does, and when he's done with the car, he'll pull it all back out again for the next one. They been in and out of more cars than I don't know what, Tondy! They's all rusty, but looks don't make it go any faster.
Him and his boy James is gonna take it to the dirt track an' drive it til it won't drive no more! They'll have just as much fun as them boys what spend thousands of dollars to drive on the same track! It ain't NASCAR, but it ain't bad. He'll still be mashin' down hard on the gas an' turnin' left, over and over again!
His wife and daughter will be out there cheering him on, his friends and cousins will be there. He'll have a couple of them working the pit crew. Everybody's gonna have a good time, and it really aint costin' them nothing much.It's a lot of fun and it's good for a family to do stuff together like that.
And guess what? When him or his boy have raced the mess out of it, he'll yank out the battery and the radiator, and sell that car for scrap, and get just as much out of it as he would if he hadn't raced it and torn it up. That $200 bucks or whatever he gets will help him pay some bills and will leave a little money for the next junk car him and his boy want to race. Plus it's good father-son stuff to do."
Doc and I spent the whole morning and into the late afternoon and evening working on the car with Pat and James. I don't do much, but I handed them tools when they asked for it and brought them sandwiches that his wife made. I sprayed the rims silver. Doc put the lettering on and used a brush to write some other names on it, and some details that were added at the last minute.
I confess that I was proud to have my picture taken standing with the car. I had been breaking the windscreen out of it when Pat's wife wanted to take my picture. You can see that the windscreen is half in and half gone. That's my handiwork! I would have never gotten this opportunity in England, and it makes for a good memory and a good story to tell my mates when I get home.
Doc took me over to his friend's house early on Saturday morning, to work on a race car of sorts. His friend is like Doc, in that he doesn't have any real money, but he likes to create and make things, and make the best of a bad situation. Pat's house has a metal garage out front that's almost as big as his house, and there are a lot of cars and pick up trucks, in various stages of being dismantled, repaired or stripped out to be sold for scrap metal.
Out in front of the garage was a rather torn up Mitsubishi. The windscreen was broken, the headlights were clouded over and useless, and it was dented up. I couldn't see any potential in it whatsoever. Doc informed me that I was looking at a future race car. I could not believe it.
Doc: Tondy, racin' ain't always about big money. The kind YOU are thinkin' of is big money. But we aint got that. So what are we gonna do... not race?
No, we're gonna do the best we can. Like with this car, someone gave it to Pat because it had problems. Dented up, busted windshield, bad lights and some other issues. The AC don't blow cold. I don't know all the issues, Tondy, but it was bad. But it DOES run ok. Trans and rear aren't bad. Now, it's worth about $10 per hundred pounds as scrap metal. Pat's gonna turn that car into scrap metal, and get a couple hundred bucks for it.But first, he's gonna have some fun with it, racin' it on the dirt track at Potomac Speedway. He's gonna finish bustin the glass out, strip out the interior, pu;; the door handles off and a bunch of other stuff. The trunk [boot] lid and doors will have to be chained shut for safety. He'll have to put hood [bonnet] pins on it to make sure it doesn't fly open. He'll take off the exhaust - the cadillac inverter's [catalytic convertor] worth a few bucks. He'll save that for cashing in on later.
Pat's got a bunch of old roll bars and pipe from other junk cars what he raced, so he's gonna weld in whatever roll cages they say he's gotta have. I don't know about that, but he does, and when he's done with the car, he'll pull it all back out again for the next one. They been in and out of more cars than I don't know what, Tondy! They's all rusty, but looks don't make it go any faster.
Him and his boy James is gonna take it to the dirt track an' drive it til it won't drive no more! They'll have just as much fun as them boys what spend thousands of dollars to drive on the same track! It ain't NASCAR, but it ain't bad. He'll still be mashin' down hard on the gas an' turnin' left, over and over again!
His wife and daughter will be out there cheering him on, his friends and cousins will be there. He'll have a couple of them working the pit crew. Everybody's gonna have a good time, and it really aint costin' them nothing much.It's a lot of fun and it's good for a family to do stuff together like that.
And guess what? When him or his boy have raced the mess out of it, he'll yank out the battery and the radiator, and sell that car for scrap, and get just as much out of it as he would if he hadn't raced it and torn it up. That $200 bucks or whatever he gets will help him pay some bills and will leave a little money for the next junk car him and his boy want to race. Plus it's good father-son stuff to do."
Doc and I spent the whole morning and into the late afternoon and evening working on the car with Pat and James. I don't do much, but I handed them tools when they asked for it and brought them sandwiches that his wife made. I sprayed the rims silver. Doc put the lettering on and used a brush to write some other names on it, and some details that were added at the last minute.
I confess that I was proud to have my picture taken standing with the car. I had been breaking the windscreen out of it when Pat's wife wanted to take my picture. You can see that the windscreen is half in and half gone. That's my handiwork! I would have never gotten this opportunity in England, and it makes for a good memory and a good story to tell my mates when I get home.
