Not Just a One Trick Pony

6/9/2018

I dragged myself out of bed at the crack of dawn (or close enough to the crack of dawn for it to count in my book) and sleepily tended to Jane, swiping the last remnants of agricultural dust off of her paint and cleaning the sunflower seed kernels out of the carpet. I am always tempted to actually detail Jane top to bottom before a show, and that temptation never actually translates into execution. For us, “reasonably presentable” is good enough, even for a field of thousands of pristine show cars.

We had decided on meeting at a friend’s house near the show grounds at 8AM. Ken had hosted a few of us out-of-towners at his house, so as soon as we were all loaded we fired our cars up with much rumbling and grumbling from the motors. Jane’s long-expected mischief suddenly came to the forefront of my mind as the motor’s idle speed climbed… and climbed… until it sat at 1800 RPM, twice its normal speed. I blearily considered solutions to this issue and then resolved to just ignore my car attempting to drive itself and to keep my foot on the brake. Sometimes you just have to let Jane get her silliness out. I did wonder, though, how much fun would get poked at me as I made my way onto the show field with my car sounding like it was imminently going to take off down a drag strip.

Fortunately, she settled after we got to my friend’s house and met up with the others. And so five classic Mustangs puttered their way sedately downtown to the golf course where the show was being held, looking very much like well-kept show ponies.

A golf cart came around with fresh donuts and coffee, which was enough to perk me up and get me to look around. What I saw was another facet of perfection. Cars rumbled their way across the nice cushy turf, exhaust puffing lightly in the cool morning air. Participants settled themselves in, setting up pavilions and chairs, standing around in groups greeting long-absent friends, and giving their cars one last spit-shine. Spectators had already started to trickle in, all full of smiles and excitement and pointing fingers and speculative looks. And there sat my road warrior in the midst of it all, somehow blending into the show field effortlessly despite the dusty carpet and radiator plastered with an impressive collection of North American bugs. I take great pride in having a car that can do it all – Jane is definitely not a one trick pony.

Jane second from the right.

The crew already plopped down in chairs

The day was actually a remarkably chilly for Modesto – usually, it’s in the triple digits by June, but that morning temperatures didn’t even hit 80 degrees. That was probably a blessing, but at the time I was cold. Donuts appeased my grumpiness; the gathering crowd around Jane dissipated it entirely. There is nothing I love more than the opportunity to brag about my car to an attentive audience. I had set up my road trip map sun shade in the rear window, and people seemed to delight in tracing all of the paths I’ve taken criss-crossing the United States.

"I don't like parking next to you Kelly, your car draws too much attention away from mine"

When I’m at shows like this, I often feel as if I’m 50% ambassador for the national parks, and 50% ambassador for the use of classic cars as daily drivers and road trippers. I end up dividing my time pretty evenly between talking to people about how I built and maintain my car for the kind of heavy duty use I put it through, and talking to people about awesome places in the United States that they really need to get out and see. I’m more than happy to do both. I’m a big believer in expanding your world, getting out of your comfort zone, and learning new things. And, of course, I have a huge appreciation for the beauty of this country that is so often overlooked. If I can even convince one person that these things are worth pursuing, I consider my day bettered.

Eventually I pulled myself away from our little posse of Mustangs and ventured out to check out some of the rest of the field. I love visiting Californian car shows because you see really wonderful rare cars that are rarely preserved in the rest of the country. Things rot quickly in the rust belt and on the East Coast, so rare or undesirable cars are frequently lost to the crushers. But out in California, cars don’t really rust, instead lingering patiently until someone decides to pull them back out of the weeds and put them on the road. There’s some fascinating stuff out there. Of course, I’m not going to post every photo I took at this show, but here’s a sample of some of the stuff that caught my eye:

Interior of the bus, complete with disco ball

"No freaking" 

"Beware the Devil's Harvest"

My favorite pair of chopped hot rods. Low, mean, cruising machines.

"1 Bad Bee"

All dressed up with 1400 HP and nowhere to go...

A Thing!

Mavericks are suddenly popular again

 I won’t bore you further with the details of the show – after all, car shows are pretty boring if you’re not there in person. Truthfully, sometimes they’re boring when you’re there in person too. Suffice it to say that I had a great time hanging out with friends and talking cars all afternoon, but that I was glad to get back to the house and get cleaned up for dinner at the end of the day.

Here's me, cheerful but hungry and kind of ready to leave

The rest of the day wound down peacefully, as long days spent among friends tend to do. I tried hard not to think too much about what tomorrow would bring. Because tomorrow I’ll be back at the grind, but I won’t be headed to any more national parks stops or peaceful campground. No, tomorrow I will begin the 30-hour drive back to Austin, and I’ll have to hoof it. You see, I have a flight to catch early Wednesday morning, which means I’ll have to make that drive in 2.5 days. Solo. In a 52-year-old monster of a car.

Easy peasy.

Kelly signing out.