After the winter snow shoveling and spring rains had all but destroyed the adhesive qualities of my BMW, I spotted my new dream car in a family friend's yard! The son of the owner (friend of my brother) was standing on the hood; he called the little car Christine, though it looked harmless to me. A deal was made and I bought it for a dollar! It cost me 20 dollars to have it towed back to my house but now my parents could see this treasure! She was a 1971 Datsun 1200 with 260,000 miles. A minor setback for my Dad who later told me that he was planning to buy a Duster for my first car that summer.
The work began with evicting all the critters that used my as a personal urinal stand. A new battery and a set of fog lights for the bumper came from the local shop that week. Fog lights make everything go faster even if more important things like the passenger's floor and the brakes, exhaust, fenders, wheels, etc needed fixing first. Several tries make my way up and out of the driveway under the car's own power proved evident that the clutch was in order too. For many years the hulk of the once proud Datsun sat in my parents driveway as a eyesore and back stop for my father's pickup until my second car prove too that it was more work to fix.
And then it occurred to me why fix when you can.... MODIFY.
What follows next are horrific pictures of youth gone astray. These are the things that happen outside of adult supervision. The little Datsun fell victim to the misguided body repair lessons given to me by a local drop out. His logic was if you didn't have the proper tools then hack at it and he began to show how to hack at my car with a meat cleaver. Shortly there after I purchase a pair of tin snips and did a more proper job removing the rusted sections. As more of the chassis came apart the lighter it became until you could get in and lift the car off the ground. In the end all that was left was a trunk deck, roof, two doors and the hood. Now to start rebuilding..... slowly. As the sanding dust and bondo filled my lungs and nose my mind became just as clouded as the air in the garage. All the dreams cars began to morph into one conglomeration of mechanism. Nothing would quite be the same again.
An over head view of the wing. also, you can see that there is not much of the car left. Had to remove all the rusty parts and make way for the new frame to fit the missing floor pan.
Time passes and soon enters my second car.....
After pulling the front clip off the New Yorker it occurred to me that the engine/ frame unit could be unbolted with great ease and mated up to another frame. Hmmm, it was at that point in my mind that East meets West and the dream of building my own car gets really ugly. A frame made from scrap steel water, a tube chassis if you will, was made to take the rear end of the New Yorke'rs diff and also allow me to bolt the engine assembly on the front