the Mo-Fos
When I was young, I wasn’t really a car guy at all. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I started getting exposed to motorsports at all. My mom’s third husband was a mechanic and started taking me to NASCAR races at the old Riverside California track. Another friend of the family took me to some drag racing events at the now long defunct OCIR (Orange County International Raceway). But even with that I still never dreamed of being a “Car doctor” or the “Mopar guy” in my neighborhood.
Then the “girl” came along in my life that would change everything I thought I knew forever. (Isn’t that what always happens?) She was a tom-boy. Tough, but sexy and I couldn’t get enough. I was eighteen and she was just fifteen. (Just days away from 16 though). She bought a car with some money that she had gotten from an auto accident settlement; a derelict 1967 Camaro. Needless to say it needed help. As her boyfriend I was the one that was going to have to help her when after just a few short months the tired 327 liberated a piston through the oil pan.
That was where it started but I still had no idea even what a Mopar was. We would remain sweethearts and eventually get married when she was eighteen and I was just 21. For the next 5 years I went through several cars. A 68 Cougar XR7, 69 Firebird, 77 Datsun pickup, 69 Impala wagon 427 and even a 72 Satellite 4-door. But I still wasn’t a “Mopar” guy.
Then after some years had passed; the old Camaro needed to be painted. Our neighbor down the street; Greg Adler was the “car flipper” so I went down to ask him if he had a paint guy that he could hook us up with. We became friends and I watched with curiosity as he put back together a 69 GTX convertible with a 4 speed that had just been painted. I will never forget the day I first heard it come to life. The 440 engine was the one that had come out of the car so it woke right up and immediately was running like a bat out of hell.
Then it happened. He turned to me and said, “You wanna drive it?”
I immediately said “Yes!!! But can I go get my wife to go with us when we go?”
So he drove it over to the house and I went in to get the missus. When we came out he was sitting in the back seat with the top down. I remember the blue paint and black stripes like it was yesterday. So I started the car and tried not to piss myself since the only 4-speed I had ever driven was the Datsun. I push in the clutch and am surprised by how much effort it takes. I put it into first and let out the clutch only to have the behemoth lurch forward and stall. OOPS!
I regain my composure after some laughter from my neighbor and my wife. This time I am determined not to stall it. So I give it a bit more RPMs and let the clutch out. It takes off but I don’t want to give it too much so let it climb in RPMs and MPH. 10 – 20 – 30 – 40 MPH and we were only at 4500 RPMs and bang! I shift into second. Looking back; I figure the speedo was off but it seemed like we were flying and we were only in second gear! Bang! Third gear and I am definitely breaking the law now and I am hooked.
I knew right then and there if I ever had the chance I was going to get a 69 convertible Road Runner or GTX with a 4 speed.
Well now it’s 20+ years later. I am still with the same gal. We have 12 Mopars and one 66 Ford mustang. She says that just makes us Mo-Fos. And oh yeah; I have my 69 convertible Road Runner with a 4-speed.
Mopar or no car.