A while back, I bought a couple of old Mopars, just to fix up for fun. One of them is a 73 Challenger 340. Complete, solid car. Frame, floors, interior all in good shape, but has a lot of bondo in it, and the paint sucks (definitely a 30 footer). Needed some TLC in the mechanical department (Mostly neglect), and I have been working on it when I have time (Work 9 hours, drive 3 hours, deal with a wife, four kids, two dogs, and the eccentricities of a hundred year old house, when I get home).
About two weeks ago, I pulled it out of the garage and took it for its maiden voyage.
Now, back in 71 when I got out of high school, I had a lot of Mopars. A 68' Dart GTS, a 69' SuperBee, a 70' RT Charger, a 71' RT Challenger, a 73' Cuda (Not all at the same time, of course). I was always a Mopar guy, and spent practically every penny of my disposable income tricking them out while I was working and going to college. One of my favorite things, was to just go for a ride late in the evening, cruising along back country roads, and listening to the sound of the exhaust. I hardly ever turned on the radio. I just wanted to listen to that wonderful, deep, powerful, growling, sound.
But all good things must come to an end, and I guess, like most people, I didn't realize what the future would hold. By the time the 80's rolled around, the old Mopars had given way to baby strollers and family trucksters. I'm sure the story is familiar to most of you old-timers out there.
Anyhow, when I got the Challenger out on the road, took it through the gears, and heard that sound again, I got so choked up that (and I'm not ashamed to admit it), I almost started to cry. Hearing that incredible sound again, feeling every tiny imperfection in the road, looking out over that power-bulge hood, feeling the satisfying crunch of the manual transmission going into gear as I moved the ergonomically perfect pistol-grip shifter through its pattern, going up a steep hill in fourth gear (AND ACCELERATING at the slightest touch of the pedal), having that huge, invisible hand push me back into the seat as I went through the gears, brought it all back in one incredible rush! It was like stepping into a time machine, and going back 30 years, to a time when life was carefree. It was like finding a lost love, or being reunited with a best friend that I hadn't seen for thirty years.
Needless to say, I have taken it out for a short ride, every day, since then. Whenever I get into my regular car, I'm starting to hate it. It's so wimpy and anemic. All day at work, I can't wait to get home to take the Challenger for a ride and get my Mopar fix. Life is great! The only problem I see, is that the PA winter is coming down the road, and at some point, I'll have to put it away. I think I'll go crazy! I'm starting to worry, because I'm considering uprooting the whole family and moving to a warmer climate, just so that I can keep driving it every day.
I've got the bug back! The Mopar Bug! And I don't ever want to be cured!
