The Mustang is out of the barn
After three years of on-again, off-again work as life would permit, my husband’s 1964 Mustang moved under its own power. It was a monumental day in our household. My husband had purchased the car straight off a rotisserie (a twirler that allows a car to be sandblasted and stripped down in preparation for body work) and had to piece the car together bit by bit.
He and I went to a couple of car swap meets to look for old stock parts. He loved scouring the tables for bits and bobs, while I rapidly grew weary of all of it except being with him. After a year or so, I persuaded him to take a friend-or our teenage daughter – either of whom are more gear-headed than I.
A few aftermarket parts were also enlisted. If you recall, we made a trip recently to Ohio to the Summit Racing store for a couple of things that he had been unable to find.
Once or twice he thought it was ready to go, but a kink would be detected, and he’d have to backtrack and retrace his steps. While building a car involves much science, there is also an art to it, I suppose.
But this weekend, finally, it went together, and we held our breath as we started the engine. Putting it in gear while it was still on jack stands, I crossed my fingers and then smiled broadly as the back wheels began to turn.
My husband was not so easily excited. He said he had to see more proof of the car’s soundness before he would believe he had been successful.
We dropped it down off the jack stands and coaxed it out of the garage. I climbed into the passenger side of the car and crouched on the floor. (The interior has not been on the priority list yet.) We slowly cruised down the road and back.
Everything held together, so we took it out again. We were careful not to go far, nor to go fast, as the car being mechanically sound does not equate to being road-ready. We did cruise up and down a side road once or twice just for fun.
Then I had the opportunity to drive it, so that my husband could see if the car trailed straight, which it did. I was pleasantly surprised that he let me drive it, but I’m sure he knew I would drive slowly and carefully, and not attempt any burnouts or anything.
After a few trips, we put the car back in the garage. My husband says he can hear that a few adjustments need to be made to encourage better performance, but he finally agreed that the body work phase is ready to begin.
Sometime in the future – a much closer reality now – we’ll be tooling along the streets in his finished product. I’ll be much more excited when that day comes, as I’m certain I’ll have a seat by then. And if I’m lucky, he may even let me drive it once or twice more.
Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.