AZBarracuda
Active Member
:sign2:
Hello. My name is John, and I am addicted to cars.
<crowd responds> "Hello John."
I've been and addict for 40 years, since I was 5 years old (and could name make/model/year of every car on the road). Since I am an admirer of all things automotive, I can't say that I am a died-in-the-wool Mopar guy (don't hate me! :sad1: ) ... but I am devoted to good old American muscle cars.
Here's my story ...
(WARNING: It's a long read, so you might just print it out and save it for your next trip to the "reading room".)
Up until a couple of years ago my automotive crave had to be satisfied by hooning around in my daily driver and collecting Hot Wheels. (Lots of Hot Wheels!) In 2006 the heavens broke loose with the sound of trumpets, the sun shone brightly, and the family finances were such that I could fulfill my life-long dream of owning a muscle car. With my wife's blessing I began the search for the perfect project car. On the shopping list were things like '69 Charger, '67-'70 Mustang fastback, '68-'70 Roadrunner, '70-'72 Trans Am, '36 Ford Coupe ... my eyes were open to a wide range of opportunities. The first deal to come along was a two-fer: a '70 Mach 1 and a '70 Mustang convertible. COOL! His 'n Hers hoopties! Now all I had to do was to finish the rather lengthy home improvement honey-do list and I could start on one of the 'Stangs. Two years later, that @#$%! honey-do list still wasn't complete, but my son would start driving in a few months and he needed a cool car for high school. Time to change the priorities.
I had been storing a rather ragged (a.k.a. basket case!) '67 Barracuda roller for my brother in law for a while, and my son indicated that he kinda liked the looks of it. Personally I didn't want anything to do with that generation of Barracuda; they just weren't on my radar screen. My brother in-law tipped the scales when he gave the car to us for a father-son project. (Truth be told, his wife didn't want him desecrating their brand new home with that butt-ugly project car so he had to do something with it.) Well, my son and I dragged the Barracuda into our garage and began stripping it down for restoration. OMG! The rust was rather prolific. Being handy with a welder I was not put off by having to replace floors and the trunk, but when I found that the bottom 2" of the driver's side A-pillar had rusted away, and the C-pillar was rotting too, I decided that this was not the car for a first-timer. We needed something cleaner. It didn't take long for Craigslist to come up with a replacement ... a '67 Barracuda with a 340 and 4-speed located in Tombstone, AZ (of all places). We piled all of the parts into the first fish and put it back out in the corner of the horse corral in case we needed a donor. When we stripped down the "new" Barracuda it was pretty much the same story ... rust. I was duped by shoddy repairs covered in thick undercoating. I decided that since I had invested money in this one that we were to forge ahead with it. I sent it out for media blasting, primed it up to prevent rust, and began the sheetmetal work.
As work progressed, things didn't go according to my vision. Where was my son? When I was 16, I set about restoring a '63 Chevy PU all by myself because my father was not a car guy. Being a product of my loins, I assumed that my son would have similar ambitions ... that he would be eager to work on the car. Not so much. When he wasn't studying, he gravitated towards computers and video games. Even when I lined up the easy work like clean and spray-paint this, sandblast these things, etc., he showed little motivation. He wanted to drive the car, but just couldn't seem to muster the ambition to build the car. I told my son that if I built the car alone, then it would be my car. Even that didn't get him into the shop.
<sigh>
So here we are, two years from when we took apart the first Barracuda. The plan was for my son to drive the car for his junior and senior years in high school. A year later, the plan was to have it done for his senior year ... then that goal became graduation. However, due to the general lack of interest, I allowed other things to take precedence. No one has touched the car in over a year. Last I remember I was fabricating caps for the rotten torsion bar cross members and installing new the front floor pans. The engine has been machined and is all ready for assembly. The plan is to make a mild street machine, 340-4spd with an OD unit, sunset orange in color, black "340" side stripe, and black interior. Going for a clean car with a low and mean stance.
I'll get back to it soon. When it's complete I might share the Barracuda with my son ... after I have one of the Mustangs done.
Well, I've laid it all out. I hope you will accept me into the FABO fold. :-D
--John
Hello. My name is John, and I am addicted to cars.
<crowd responds> "Hello John."
I've been and addict for 40 years, since I was 5 years old (and could name make/model/year of every car on the road). Since I am an admirer of all things automotive, I can't say that I am a died-in-the-wool Mopar guy (don't hate me! :sad1: ) ... but I am devoted to good old American muscle cars.
Here's my story ...
(WARNING: It's a long read, so you might just print it out and save it for your next trip to the "reading room".)
Up until a couple of years ago my automotive crave had to be satisfied by hooning around in my daily driver and collecting Hot Wheels. (Lots of Hot Wheels!) In 2006 the heavens broke loose with the sound of trumpets, the sun shone brightly, and the family finances were such that I could fulfill my life-long dream of owning a muscle car. With my wife's blessing I began the search for the perfect project car. On the shopping list were things like '69 Charger, '67-'70 Mustang fastback, '68-'70 Roadrunner, '70-'72 Trans Am, '36 Ford Coupe ... my eyes were open to a wide range of opportunities. The first deal to come along was a two-fer: a '70 Mach 1 and a '70 Mustang convertible. COOL! His 'n Hers hoopties! Now all I had to do was to finish the rather lengthy home improvement honey-do list and I could start on one of the 'Stangs. Two years later, that @#$%! honey-do list still wasn't complete, but my son would start driving in a few months and he needed a cool car for high school. Time to change the priorities.
I had been storing a rather ragged (a.k.a. basket case!) '67 Barracuda roller for my brother in law for a while, and my son indicated that he kinda liked the looks of it. Personally I didn't want anything to do with that generation of Barracuda; they just weren't on my radar screen. My brother in-law tipped the scales when he gave the car to us for a father-son project. (Truth be told, his wife didn't want him desecrating their brand new home with that butt-ugly project car so he had to do something with it.) Well, my son and I dragged the Barracuda into our garage and began stripping it down for restoration. OMG! The rust was rather prolific. Being handy with a welder I was not put off by having to replace floors and the trunk, but when I found that the bottom 2" of the driver's side A-pillar had rusted away, and the C-pillar was rotting too, I decided that this was not the car for a first-timer. We needed something cleaner. It didn't take long for Craigslist to come up with a replacement ... a '67 Barracuda with a 340 and 4-speed located in Tombstone, AZ (of all places). We piled all of the parts into the first fish and put it back out in the corner of the horse corral in case we needed a donor. When we stripped down the "new" Barracuda it was pretty much the same story ... rust. I was duped by shoddy repairs covered in thick undercoating. I decided that since I had invested money in this one that we were to forge ahead with it. I sent it out for media blasting, primed it up to prevent rust, and began the sheetmetal work.
As work progressed, things didn't go according to my vision. Where was my son? When I was 16, I set about restoring a '63 Chevy PU all by myself because my father was not a car guy. Being a product of my loins, I assumed that my son would have similar ambitions ... that he would be eager to work on the car. Not so much. When he wasn't studying, he gravitated towards computers and video games. Even when I lined up the easy work like clean and spray-paint this, sandblast these things, etc., he showed little motivation. He wanted to drive the car, but just couldn't seem to muster the ambition to build the car. I told my son that if I built the car alone, then it would be my car. Even that didn't get him into the shop.
<sigh>
So here we are, two years from when we took apart the first Barracuda. The plan was for my son to drive the car for his junior and senior years in high school. A year later, the plan was to have it done for his senior year ... then that goal became graduation. However, due to the general lack of interest, I allowed other things to take precedence. No one has touched the car in over a year. Last I remember I was fabricating caps for the rotten torsion bar cross members and installing new the front floor pans. The engine has been machined and is all ready for assembly. The plan is to make a mild street machine, 340-4spd with an OD unit, sunset orange in color, black "340" side stripe, and black interior. Going for a clean car with a low and mean stance.
I'll get back to it soon. When it's complete I might share the Barracuda with my son ... after I have one of the Mustangs done.
Well, I've laid it all out. I hope you will accept me into the FABO fold. :-D
--John
