Blame it on genetics. This unhealthy addiction to motorcars is something I was bound to inherit. Even from a young age, I was helping dad by polishing the wheels on his 1979 Ford pickup (probably because that’s the only part of it that I could reach). Yes, that’s me pushing along my bike in front of the truck. Apparently my love of wheeled transportation started long before I had a driver license.
My dad’s high school hot rod was a 1968 Chevy Nova. I’d love to track it down and do a full restoration. Amazingly, my dad did used to have hair!
Like any young parents, mom and dad took a lot of pictures. But unlike most families, they weren’t always just pictures of the kids. We’ve got pictures of each of the nearly 30 automobiles they owned during their marriage. Scrapbook potential, anyone?
By the time I first picked up the Legend in 2003, I was far out-classed by my brothers in their big rigs and mom in her 2000 Acura 3.5 RL. It’s a good thing the e-brake on that Dodge Ram was holding steady or I would’ve been the next monster truck victim.
But the most exciting part of discovering this car-loving heritage came from a picture I discovered of my grandpa Rex, taken in 1954 in Utah. Hose strung out across the grass, we can only assume he was performing a wash & detail on his pride and joy 1950 Buick Special as I do so often on weekends to my own vehicle.
The next picture is where the fun begins. I came across a road trip picture where Grandpa stood in front of his car for a state line shot, something I’ve done many times in recent years. But the best part is, based on the landscape in the background, I was able to actually find the exact location where this picture was taken, over 50 years ago.
The sign has since changed but the terrain is unmistakably the same. I certainly don’t have hair as cool as Grandpa’s but I bet his old straight-8 engined, 3-on-the-column Buick didn’t have 500,000 miles on it. Grandpa’s been gone since I was 8 years old but I think it would do him proud to know that I was following in his footsteps…. er, tire marks.
Enough with the history lesson. But speaking of “running” in the family, tomorrow I’ll be putting 400 miles on the Legend en route to St. George Utah for the 35th annual St. George Marathon which I’ll be running Saturday morning. I’ll be doing some 26.2 miles of my own this weekend.
And with that, the twin Legends say goodnight!