- Joined
- Sep 16, 2008
- Threads
- 96
- Messages
- 2,930
- Location
- Freensville
- Website
- www.poolpartydeathmachine.com
Two years ago, I bought myself a 1972 Toyota Land Cruiser, a truck I dearly love, but realistically could only manage as a long term project, but the Toyota infection was only just beginning. It wasn't long before I realized I wanted something I could romp around in, something simple, unassuming, something slushbox-free.
The roots of this purchase go all the way back to my childhood, I grew up around trucks. My dad rolled in a 1987 Chevy S-10 with the 2.8-liter rebadged Isuzu V6, and my mom had a 1989 Chevy Silverado 350 TBI with a 4L60-E. I thought trucks were all there was in life, cars were there, but never really caught my eye, not even the sporty ones, they were all second-rate to a good truck.
When I was 14, my uncle accepted a 1965 Chevy C-10 in lieu of payment at his automotive shop in Willits, CA, and I bought it from him on the grounds that I:
-keep my grades up
- spend a summer in Willits with him helping around the shop, so I could work on the truck and make it roadworthy.
That all changed when my uncle was diagnosed with Leukemia, and had to close his shop in order to open up time to fight the VA over his paperwork. He trailered the truck to my house, where i tinkered with it a bit, but without his guidance, I had no idea what I was doing. I was soon to be driving, and needed anything to get me by, and my aunt and uncle (other side of the family) offered me their 1991 Oldsmobile 88 for 500 bucks. I jumped on the deal, and brought it home shortly thereafter.
I loved the Olds', but after a while driving a car just began to grate on me, and soon after, I bought my FJ, but it never plugged the hole, since I can't drive her regularly. My eyes began to wander, I looked enviously at the passers-by in their Toyota pickups, they seemed to have so much fun, in their zippy, rugged little pickups while I was hugging the tarmac in my one-time-luxury car. As time passed, the little issues with my car that grated on me just go too much, the brakes were underpowered, the body too massive. The transmission shifted rough, and dribbled ATF all over my parent's yard. The gas mileage sucked, and the 20-gallon tank made every price listing for gas stations say: "grab your ankles". Then the electrical gremlins took over. The wipers quit, the signals work on occasion, the thing began to eat fuses right and left. Bad grounds on the headlights, three of four window motors died, the fourth just rolls down randomly on its own, generally during rainstorms. The heater jammed on, and the blower motor died. I'd had enough, and I began to look for a 'Yota.
Enter the mule.
I first saw this thing while helping to clean up the PMC Christmas party at Yodaman's December 2009. It was only my second time hanging out with this crowd, and I just kind of hugged the back wall, and ogled the machinery. Anyway, this truck rolled in at the end of the night. Man, that motor just purred, it was like music. I looked, but not long, since I couldn't afford another project. I walked away.
I was back at the shop not long ago, getting a potential buy inspected, when I saw it again. 2 grand for Yodaman-built first-gen. How could I say no? I got a loan, I cut a check, and my dad and I brought it home.
I've written too much, now, so I'll leave off with the pics.
The roots of this purchase go all the way back to my childhood, I grew up around trucks. My dad rolled in a 1987 Chevy S-10 with the 2.8-liter rebadged Isuzu V6, and my mom had a 1989 Chevy Silverado 350 TBI with a 4L60-E. I thought trucks were all there was in life, cars were there, but never really caught my eye, not even the sporty ones, they were all second-rate to a good truck.
When I was 14, my uncle accepted a 1965 Chevy C-10 in lieu of payment at his automotive shop in Willits, CA, and I bought it from him on the grounds that I:
-keep my grades up
- spend a summer in Willits with him helping around the shop, so I could work on the truck and make it roadworthy.
That all changed when my uncle was diagnosed with Leukemia, and had to close his shop in order to open up time to fight the VA over his paperwork. He trailered the truck to my house, where i tinkered with it a bit, but without his guidance, I had no idea what I was doing. I was soon to be driving, and needed anything to get me by, and my aunt and uncle (other side of the family) offered me their 1991 Oldsmobile 88 for 500 bucks. I jumped on the deal, and brought it home shortly thereafter.
I loved the Olds', but after a while driving a car just began to grate on me, and soon after, I bought my FJ, but it never plugged the hole, since I can't drive her regularly. My eyes began to wander, I looked enviously at the passers-by in their Toyota pickups, they seemed to have so much fun, in their zippy, rugged little pickups while I was hugging the tarmac in my one-time-luxury car. As time passed, the little issues with my car that grated on me just go too much, the brakes were underpowered, the body too massive. The transmission shifted rough, and dribbled ATF all over my parent's yard. The gas mileage sucked, and the 20-gallon tank made every price listing for gas stations say: "grab your ankles". Then the electrical gremlins took over. The wipers quit, the signals work on occasion, the thing began to eat fuses right and left. Bad grounds on the headlights, three of four window motors died, the fourth just rolls down randomly on its own, generally during rainstorms. The heater jammed on, and the blower motor died. I'd had enough, and I began to look for a 'Yota.
Enter the mule.
I first saw this thing while helping to clean up the PMC Christmas party at Yodaman's December 2009. It was only my second time hanging out with this crowd, and I just kind of hugged the back wall, and ogled the machinery. Anyway, this truck rolled in at the end of the night. Man, that motor just purred, it was like music. I looked, but not long, since I couldn't afford another project. I walked away.
I was back at the shop not long ago, getting a potential buy inspected, when I saw it again. 2 grand for Yodaman-built first-gen. How could I say no? I got a loan, I cut a check, and my dad and I brought it home.
I've written too much, now, so I'll leave off with the pics.


