I have two...one was a Honda 250XL...the other...well let me start at the begining.
1972...in high school...Omaha... I had been working at Burger King at night and a car wash during the days (summer months)...my goal in life was to buy a car (and rise through the ranks at the car wash from a $1.65 scrubber boy to $2.05 "gas attendant" (for you young guys out there...back then you didn`t even have to get out out of your car to get gas}. After a few years of saving hard I had $1200...basicly I was rich.
One day I was driving in one of the family cars...a station wagon. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted her...at the back of a used car lot...a green 1968 fastback Barracuda. I pulled in to take a look...4 speed...skinny tires...trailer hitch...not really that interesting. But as I revolved around her and made my way up to the front...stamped in the hood...it said "340". A lanky salesman decended upon me..."looking for something to pull a trailer"...umm...yea. How much is it? "Well it was traded in last night for a pickup...haven`t had a chance to clean it up...thats why it back here...the sales manager off today and I don`t know what he`s going to ask...but if your really interested I can try to call him at home. Well...it`s probably more than I have...but if you don`t mind I would like to know.
Well he came back from the office and told me it was $1500...low miles and all. I told him I only had $1200. He said they couldn`t take less than $1400. Well I called my dad and asked if he would loan me $200. And to my amazement he said OK...but with the condition that it would remain parked in the garage untill I had paid him back and bought insurance. I gave the saleman some money to hold the car and the next day my dad drove it home while I drove the wagon.
She sat in the garage for quite a while...I worked lovingly on her every night...I put headers on her...wide tires...a bigger carb...and several tons of wax.
Finally the day came when I had the insurance and was ready to hit the road. I noticed right away the she had the sweetest sound I had ever heard. So quite at idle...but... After a short trip to the gas station to fill her up with high-test I took her out to "dead mans lane". This was a remote long straight road where the kids at school came to run their cars. Being day I was all alone out there. I found that although she was sweet...at the center of her heart there was a storm...with a very bad attitude. She would scream to 75 mph before the tires would even sqeel, before they had any hope of grabbing...and finally stop around 85 at which point you were buried in the seat...and a second later you would be doing 140 and climbing (if you had the guts to take your eyes of the road and look at the speedo). But it was the sound she made that set her apart from others...like a chorus of angry bee`s backing up the devil on violin...really, really sweet, but mean as hell too. She seemed almost alive.
I went home and shook all night. That car scared me. But it was the begining of a deep love affair.
Her reputation at school soon grew...she was not normal. She and I were in many races...she never lost. She beat everything the kids had in school at that time. Had a bad time with a stock 454 Chevelle though...about the same. (Later this car was fixed up...way faster than my 340, but it didn`t sound as sweet)
There were a couple brothers at school...Randy and Doug...their father owened a junk yard. They were the cool kids...no one messed with these guy`s. They had great cars...a differant one about every couple months.
One day Randy showed up with a 426-Hemi Road Runner. It was the talk of the town. He kept looking at me...had me scared. I tried to leave school late...or early...I did not want to be caught leaveing the same time as him. But their was no way I could avoid the clash and one day on my way home I looked beside me...yep, there he was. He had three other guy`s in the car with him. I looked at my gas gauge...about 1/4 tank...I figured the Cuda was about as light as she could get and their were 4 rather heavy guy`s in the hemi. The odds were as good as they were going to get. I slowly took her up to 65mph...the tires would hold from there and she was well into her power band. I was shaking so bad...my foot would not stay on the gas. I normally waited for my oppenent to make the first move...but if I was to have any hope at all...I mashed it to the floor.
I could tell right away the proud little 340 had finally met something she could not beat. The small lead was quickly eaten up by that big block hemi. Even with the four guy`s in the car there was no hope. He was just overtaking me when...Randy missed a gear.
But it was very apparant that there were other cars out there that would beat the Cuda.
Soon the kids at school started fixing their cars up to the point where she could not compete. The years went by and the lady aged nicely. But her heart grew tired and her winnings got fewer and farther apart. The wide tires were replaced by radials, the rusted out headers were replaced by the original manifolds. But she proved to be just as good at simply traveling around as she had been at winning in her youth.
In 1980 I married a gal and sold her to a friend who had always wanted her. He parked it in his garage and began what would prove to be a many years long restoration. Around 1985 I retuned to Omaha and visited my friend. And there in his garadge was the Cuda...as proud as she had ever been. All rebuilt. It was winter and my friend refused to take me for a spin (salt on the roads). But he did start her. She was young again. And I fell in love all over.
I never saw my friend or the Cuda again. But I dream of her sometimes...I dream she`s just outside my door...waiting for me...and hoping to find a Corvette to to play with.
Ken
1972...in high school...Omaha... I had been working at Burger King at night and a car wash during the days (summer months)...my goal in life was to buy a car (and rise through the ranks at the car wash from a $1.65 scrubber boy to $2.05 "gas attendant" (for you young guys out there...back then you didn`t even have to get out out of your car to get gas}. After a few years of saving hard I had $1200...basicly I was rich.
One day I was driving in one of the family cars...a station wagon. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted her...at the back of a used car lot...a green 1968 fastback Barracuda. I pulled in to take a look...4 speed...skinny tires...trailer hitch...not really that interesting. But as I revolved around her and made my way up to the front...stamped in the hood...it said "340". A lanky salesman decended upon me..."looking for something to pull a trailer"...umm...yea. How much is it? "Well it was traded in last night for a pickup...haven`t had a chance to clean it up...thats why it back here...the sales manager off today and I don`t know what he`s going to ask...but if your really interested I can try to call him at home. Well...it`s probably more than I have...but if you don`t mind I would like to know.
Well he came back from the office and told me it was $1500...low miles and all. I told him I only had $1200. He said they couldn`t take less than $1400. Well I called my dad and asked if he would loan me $200. And to my amazement he said OK...but with the condition that it would remain parked in the garage untill I had paid him back and bought insurance. I gave the saleman some money to hold the car and the next day my dad drove it home while I drove the wagon.
She sat in the garage for quite a while...I worked lovingly on her every night...I put headers on her...wide tires...a bigger carb...and several tons of wax.
Finally the day came when I had the insurance and was ready to hit the road. I noticed right away the she had the sweetest sound I had ever heard. So quite at idle...but... After a short trip to the gas station to fill her up with high-test I took her out to "dead mans lane". This was a remote long straight road where the kids at school came to run their cars. Being day I was all alone out there. I found that although she was sweet...at the center of her heart there was a storm...with a very bad attitude. She would scream to 75 mph before the tires would even sqeel, before they had any hope of grabbing...and finally stop around 85 at which point you were buried in the seat...and a second later you would be doing 140 and climbing (if you had the guts to take your eyes of the road and look at the speedo). But it was the sound she made that set her apart from others...like a chorus of angry bee`s backing up the devil on violin...really, really sweet, but mean as hell too. She seemed almost alive.
I went home and shook all night. That car scared me. But it was the begining of a deep love affair.
Her reputation at school soon grew...she was not normal. She and I were in many races...she never lost. She beat everything the kids had in school at that time. Had a bad time with a stock 454 Chevelle though...about the same. (Later this car was fixed up...way faster than my 340, but it didn`t sound as sweet)
There were a couple brothers at school...Randy and Doug...their father owened a junk yard. They were the cool kids...no one messed with these guy`s. They had great cars...a differant one about every couple months.
One day Randy showed up with a 426-Hemi Road Runner. It was the talk of the town. He kept looking at me...had me scared. I tried to leave school late...or early...I did not want to be caught leaveing the same time as him. But their was no way I could avoid the clash and one day on my way home I looked beside me...yep, there he was. He had three other guy`s in the car with him. I looked at my gas gauge...about 1/4 tank...I figured the Cuda was about as light as she could get and their were 4 rather heavy guy`s in the hemi. The odds were as good as they were going to get. I slowly took her up to 65mph...the tires would hold from there and she was well into her power band. I was shaking so bad...my foot would not stay on the gas. I normally waited for my oppenent to make the first move...but if I was to have any hope at all...I mashed it to the floor.
I could tell right away the proud little 340 had finally met something she could not beat. The small lead was quickly eaten up by that big block hemi. Even with the four guy`s in the car there was no hope. He was just overtaking me when...Randy missed a gear.
But it was very apparant that there were other cars out there that would beat the Cuda.
Soon the kids at school started fixing their cars up to the point where she could not compete. The years went by and the lady aged nicely. But her heart grew tired and her winnings got fewer and farther apart. The wide tires were replaced by radials, the rusted out headers were replaced by the original manifolds. But she proved to be just as good at simply traveling around as she had been at winning in her youth.
In 1980 I married a gal and sold her to a friend who had always wanted her. He parked it in his garage and began what would prove to be a many years long restoration. Around 1985 I retuned to Omaha and visited my friend. And there in his garadge was the Cuda...as proud as she had ever been. All rebuilt. It was winter and my friend refused to take me for a spin (salt on the roads). But he did start her. She was young again. And I fell in love all over.
I never saw my friend or the Cuda again. But I dream of her sometimes...I dream she`s just outside my door...waiting for me...and hoping to find a Corvette to to play with.
Ken
