There are many memories that pass through my mind from time to time, but some of the fondest are those of my first muscle car.When I first got my license in high school, my dad took me to look for cars. The first one I was interested in was an old 1939 Torpedo.
It was the coolest thing I had ever seen. It had suicide doors and looked like it had driven right out of an old gangster flick. I thought I had found my dream car, but I had no idea what I was about to find myself driving…
One thing that prevented me from getting this immaculate old gangster car was the price. At more than 10 grand, there was no way in hell my pops would have gotten it for me. A couple of weeks later, we’re checkin the newspaper and something catches my dad’s eye. We drive out to this guys house and in the driveway is car I had never seen before. And since my knowledge of cars was zilch other than what the mustang looked like, I was both puzzled and excited. The car had a swept back body, a large rear window and it looked like a bad-ass, unique car. Turned out it was a 1969 Formula S Plymouth Barracuda, painted as blue as the ocean, and it was beautiful.
The previous owner had monkeyed with some of the wiring and changed the seats in the car but I could have cared less. I had me a fast car that looked unique and sounded great. It was and still is my first muscle car. Working on it with my pops created some of my favorite memories. We had replaced the headers on the car’s 340 small block engine, cleaned the 4bbl carb, changed the seats and resealed the weather strip around the windshield. The barracuda was one bad fish, and the 340 that powered it got me in trouble on more than one occasion. I did quarter miles and 0-60 tests on a fairly regular basis (got a 5 second 0-60 one time). Burnouts and fishtails were also part of the fun. Driving that car shaped my personality and gave me a feeling I have yet to experience again. It was connecting to the past. My pops and I made regular visits to the car show as well, furthering the love of all things muscle car in my mind. To this day every time I hear engines roaring or tires screeching I think back to those high school days and those muscle car memories.
Give me your muscle car memories in the comments. Share some pics and swap some stories of the love of who we are and what we do – muscle cars.