So, my first car story begins as a sixteenth birthday present. My father had his ideas about the kind of car that his daughter should have. Basically, it needed to run. And be reliable enough for him to trust it with precious cargo on the back roads of rural South Dakota. That's it.
So a quick trip down to the used car lot and he sets his sights on my new ride. It was a great condition 1978 black Chevy Nova with red interior. The car was owned by a little old lady who was on the verge of losing her license when she originally got the car and hadn't driven it since for years. She decided to sell and basically took it in with clear instructions to the dealer: "no one is gonna buy a piece of crap car from me, so make sure everything works". I love tenacious elderly folk. New plugs, new wires, new tubes, new tires....freshly detailed and the for sale sign was out on the dash.
Along comes my dad and before I knew it, I had keys in hand to my first car. He had even hung a pair of red fuzzy dice from the rearview mirror for fun.
And I loved that car. My friends dubbed it the "Mighty Nova" because we basically put it through hell. Miles of back roads, ditches, cornfields, mud, snow, you name it. And it never let us down. It always got us home. Pile in a couple of crazy teenagers with nothing better to do on a summer Friday night but roll down the windows, turn up some tunes and drive. Looking back now, it really didn't get much better than that.
Once I got to college, the Mighty Nova was handed down to my little sister whose friends changed its name to the "Super Nova". And they were even harder on that poor car. Sadly, the Nova's life ended on a stock car racetrack many years ago...and on its maiden run no less.
Since then I’ve been pining for another Nova just like the one I used to have back in high school. Then along comes The Gearhead and fulfills my dream. In October 2009, he found one online and it was perfect! Sigh. I just love it when the stars align.
No comments:
Post a Comment