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OT:Things We Did as Kids (Dad's 51 F6)

RBnSC

RBnSC

Well-known Member
Growing up My younger brother and I did almost every thing together and at 56 and 54 we still do. Back when we were around 12 and 14 Dad quit with his 51 ford F6. He took the bed off and put it on a 65 F600. The F6 still ran good but did not have brakes. It had one tire on the right rear and two on the left. It became our toy and we drove it around the farm and thru the woods hunting. After a while we realized that the emergency brakes worked and as we took turns one driving and the other manned the brake stick we traveled farther and faster. One day when our parents had gone to town we decided to go as far as the "paved road" about 1.5 miles away. A quiet secondary road. Our express purpose was to spin the tire and make it smoke. First we would take turns revving it up and sidestepping the clutch in first gear then second. Quickly that got boring so we decided to back up as fast as we could force it into second gear and rev it and sidestep the clutch. That worked, it would spin that one tire about 6 to 7 ft. then slowly start going forward smoking that old slick tire. What a blast. That old flathead V8 was tough. The next time we had a chance to go out there we rung the hub out of the center of the clutch disc and had to walk back home and get a tractor and pull it back. We put a disc in it but lost interest as our next project showed up as dad brought home a 58 Opel with a stripped timing gear. But that is another story.
Ron
 
Never forget the time my dad sold his business and actually had some money. He went out and bought a brand new "luxury" car - it was a 76 chrysler cordoba.

This thing had AIR CONDITIONING - that was a real novelty.

He was real proud of that thing - he loved driving it.

We went into town one night and he ran into the drug store for something, left me there with the keys - a BIG mistake.

He knew the owner so he was in there chatting for a long time.

I got bored and got into the driver's seat

(76 - so I guess I was 11)

I started the car and started reving the engine.

That big 400 sounded so cool.

And it sounded even cooler when you really gunned it.

I sat there revving the living #()*$ out of that poor engine until POOOF

Just as my dad came out there was a big mushrooom cloud of smoke rising from his most prized possession.

His face went from "what the -----" to "you stupid son of a----" in about one tenth of a second as he stared at me - wide eyed - sitting there desperately trying to restart the engine, hoping it'd just run again like nothing happened.

I never actually found out what I did - but thinking back on all that white smoke I'd guess I blew a head gasket.

All I remember was that it was a VERY expensive repair...
 
We did about the same thing with Dad"s 1930Model A. My brother and I 12 and 16 figured out how to work the spark control lever on the steering colum when pulled down it would make that Model A really come to life"Burn Rubber" we got it out one day while Dad was doing a double shift in the Steel Mill ,but didn"t break anything.Last year I finally told Dad about it 30 years after the fact "statute of limitations figured I couldn"t get grounded now." he laughed and said sternly they weren"t made for that. Dad died at Christmas and in the will I got the Model A talk about Karma now it"s mine different perspective,I won"t say what we did to Dad"s 1974 Gran Torino but it would really haul some
 
sounds like us, me and a friend had a 64 chevy nova station wagon, it was a real creampuff with its whole passengers side floor being 1 garbage can lid, there was a hill near the house that was pretty steep it was paved and the oil had come up in the blacktop and it was smooth as glass, the old chevy had a powerdglide transmission in it and we would let it roll down that hill backward and slap it in drive and floor it, the old thing would start spinning the tires and slow, then creep forward until it finally got hooked up to the road, lots of smoke, about 1/3 of it oil smoke from the worn engine lol but it was a cloud of something at least
 
Your still ALIVE???????? I bet that your back side took a beating. LOL

I never revved up the car that way but did try it ONE time on the "new" JD 4010. It was neat how it would would make diesel smoke. It was not so neat when Grand Dad showed me the error of my thinking with his belt. That was the only time I ever remember Grand Dad getting me. Now Dad was another story he got me about daily when I was smaller.
 
That is one thing I have never understood about boys. I am over half a century old, and have had a steering wheel in my hands since I was old enough to sit in my dad's lap, don't know how many million miles I have driven, and have never once had the desire to burn rubber or spin cookies in the road, nor wrap an engine up.
 
Dad had 2 3010's Generally we would be doing the same thing. Except for planting he had one four row planter and the other tractor would be discing ahead of it. Dad would generally say as he would leave us to work "Let The Black Smoke Roll" He liked to see that.
Ron
 
My Mother got promoted to a managers position with Avon Products in 1960, with sizable pay raise. The first thing she bought was her first new car, a 1960 Rambler Rebel with a push button transmission and a Chevy built 327 V-8. A way over powered car, with a poor center of gravity. I would slowly back up and punch the 2nd. gear and burn 'em up. I think I might still hold the longest burn out record for stockers in Anderson, SC. Then my Dad , an Air Force aircraft mechanic for about 12 years, started noticing a lil slop when the tranny would shift and that ended my shenanigans. Rambler and Studebaker were putting V-8's in their cars long before the 'muscle car ' era.
 
Dad had a 77 Jeep Cherokee that was our family car as a kid. POS, but when they were gone with the pickup, I was probably 14, the neighbor kids and I would take it down the road about 70 mph and hit a bisecting gravel road with a nice hump. We would launch that thing! Good times, but its a wonder we didn't roll it with 5 kids in there.
 
It really IS odd, isn't it.

But I'm very guilty of it myself.

It's like being fascinated with fireworks as a kid. But eventually you blow up enough stuff to get bored with it, and you move on to being sane and sesnible about them.

Same with guns. You shoot down enough tress, old tv's, cars and propane tanks - and you finally get bored with it and you become sensible and safe with guns.

I now drive like a little old lady. I don't remember the last time I broke the speed limit. Hell, I'm lucky if I even get up to the speed limit.

But - my god, I remember what a great rush it was being 13 or so, driving like a mad man through corn crops.

ZERO understanding of the monetary damage I was doing to some poor farmer -

I'd like to go back in time and give myself a good kick in the @##.

But at the time it was all about the fun and excitement. Bigger booms, louder engines, more power - that's what mattered.

If my son did even HALF the stuff I did at his age I'd fake his birth certificate and ship him off to the marines.
 
ha - we had a set of railroad tracks crossing a road that provided a similar oppoortunity to play "dukes of hazard" with the old station wagon.

We'd do it at night so you could see all the sparks when you landed. (we'd take turns watching from the roadside)

I haven't thought about that in a long time.

soooo stupid - and lucky we're alive.
 
man this topic is really digging up a lot of old memories of all the stupid things we used to do - too many to list - could go on for days -

I think instead of sitting here, I'm going to see what my kids are up to right now...
 
Now 'Feet,you cant tell us that girls never did that kind of stuff....I know better.My sister was the wild one.She got into more scrapes than her brothers ever did...
 
It's A sickness. After we moved to town it was fast street cars,street racing, drag racing in the 70s our 67 Camaro would run under the national index. In the 80s we had four wheel drive pickups big motors and big tires. Late 80s our youngest brother got us into circle track racing.Lots of fun. I have to admit going from field to field 5th gear on an 8 speed transmission is fast enough and 1800 rpms is plenty hard enough while plowing.
The 172 diesel engine that I built for my brothers 800 Ford has a fully ported and polished head...couldn't help Myself.
Ron
 
Once at a family gathering,my youngest sister and were discussing some of our 'escapades'.Our mother just sat across the table listening,never said a word.I noticed her eyes got bigger and bigger and.....When we had finished, Mom simply said "And what else don't I know about?" The rest of laughed and....
 
I've got memories of a 1979 ish or so F150 with my buddies little brother driving doing 50-60 mph on the dirt road through their farm so we could launch off a rise in the field. Wasn't one of us over 13 in the truck.
 
I know what you mean our Mom just smiles and says She is glad She didn't know at the time.
Ron
 
well, after all of these posts i may just change my position on gun control; haha. well since it is fess up time. at 15 all i had to drive was a 49 studebaker, one of those fill the oil check the gas type with little to no brakes, worn out clutch and only the springs left for a front seat. if you lived this then you know what i mean. well me and a friend started forward down an old boat ramp one day stopped it just short of the waters edge, momentarily; i quickly put it in reverse and while holding the brakes to the floor i released the clutch and the brakes, gunned it and there we sat, gently slipping forward toward the creek. with the clutch burning, engine screaming and spewing out this great cloud of blue smoke we weren't moving so i urged the friend to get out and push, finally he reluctantly did so and the old stude crept back up the incline. back on level land we had a good laugh and with engine racing and a good trail of smoke we returned home. and yes, to this day i have not told my 87 year old mom.
 
Just a point, the AMC/Rambler only shared its cubic inch rating with the chevy 327.Totally different engine. Bill
a101185.jpg
 
I came home on leave from the Army in 1960, I asked Dad if I could take his Olds 98 to town one night in Grundy Co, Iowa. Coming home in early morning hours, I took a short cut gravel road. I recall seeing some construction signs but what the heck. I had that 98 really moving and saw what looked like a gravel ramp into the air right in front of me (that gravel road was being upgraded and a big concrete culvert was installed and it was at least 4-5 ft higher (maybe more) than the old roadbed).
I hit the brakes but that 98 had too much momentum. I lifted off into the air with that long hood aimed into the sky. I remember that it was real quiet in the car....no road noise, just the motor running. I prayed the car would land straight or I would roll and it would be bad. That 98 landed straight, and it bottomed out real hard...heard lots of gravel grinding sounds. All guages were good so hit the gas and went home.

Next day Dad asked how I "got all that gravel between the grill and radiator?". Of course I had no clue. It took me several hours to get the gravel out of there....there was a lot of room in that area for a lot of gravel.

But there was no yelling like the Dukes did when they went airborn...I was mostly praying.

That Olds 98 always ran smoothly for many more years. So did I.
LA in WI
 
DeltaRed,

I'm sure I must have been an angel... will have to check with my dad. LOL!!

But I really never did do anything dangerous... I had a brother killed in a car wreck (he was not the driver). So I knew for sure that one could get dead as a teenager.
 
"My" car from age 13 to 15 was a '49 Chev Sedan Delivery. Not real cool at the time, although we eventually sold it to a kid who made a hot rod out of it. I was never real rough on it, because I knew that "without his horse, a man's afoot", as they say in the cavalry. I did manage to end up in the middle of the lawn of a vacant house when squirreling around in the snow. I was busy jacking it up, putting boards under wheels, etc., when the folks drove by going home from church- Dad just smiled and said "Dinner in about an hour- hope you can make it" and drove on. I did make it, BTW, and even volunteered to say grace.

About the stupidest stunt was with my Truly Boneheaded neighbor, Terry. Every bit of his severely limited mental capacity "ran to mean-ness". He had a Honda 50, and some family friend left a Yamaha 80 at their place one time, when his folks were away. We were both about 12, I think. Terry got the bright idea that we should "go to town"- about 6 miles away- and if the cops got after us, we could escape by going between houses, over lawns, etc. where the cruisers couldn't go. For reasons that still escape me, I consented to go.

I snuck out at about midnight, and met him at his place. By this time, I was having serious reservations about the whole ridiculous idea, and had decided that my bike would have a mysterious mechanical malfunction about a half mile out, and that would effectively abort the mission.

But fate stepped in- the creek had flooded, and there was about 4 inches of water over the road. Driving the bikes sensibly would have easily gotten through it, but Terry, true to form, hit the water "wide open", and of course flooded out the electrical system, and that was the end of the adventure.

I grew up, but Terry just got worse. Did several stretches in prison, and in middle age, I talked to his older brother, who confirmed that he was just totally worthless. Denny tried to help him a couple times, and had his money and car stolen for his trouble. Terry died of alcoholism at age 60, a couple of years ago.
 
Yup, its definitely an addiction. We were good friends with the local used tire store. Use to buy a set a week, $5 a piece wasnt too bad.

If I can every figure out how to post videos, I add a few nice burnouts.


Rick
 
My friend Clancy"s family had a brand new 66 Fairlane when we were in high school. Sometimes Clancy got to use the car to take our group of friends to drive-in-movies. It was a nice car with a 289 and automatic.

Clancy drove fast, and that didn"t worry me too much. But when he found that the car would make"66" marks on pavement, I thought it would end up getting us into lots of trouble. Clancy would back the Fairlane up about 15 or 20 miles an hour and then shift to neutral for a moment and then into drive, with his throttle foot to the floor. The Fairlane was light enough and powerful enough so the rear tires would start spinning forward while the car was still going backwards. This produced lots of tire smoke and left long "66" rubber marks on the pavement.

I thought sure that doing that would kill the transmission, or something else would break, but it never did. Clancy did it many times while I was along, and noting other than wearing out the rear tires pretty fast ever happened. I have to hand it to that Ford C4 transmission and the toughness of that Fairlane"s drivetrain. It was certainly abused, but Clancy"s Dad drove that car for at least 10 years.

I sure never did any "66"s" with vehicles my family owned!!! Crazy kids!
 
I remember my dad telling me a story of when he was a kid -

Took his dad's new car out for date one evening.

There used to be a local oval track speedway where on certain nights, anybody could enter to race with their street cars.

My dad said there weren't too many brand new off-the-showroom floor models entering, and he couldn't resist, felt he couldn't lose.

Afterwards, he drove home, left the windows open.

My grandfather got up in the morning, got in the car, rolled the window up - to see a big number 12 in white shoe polish on the window.
 
My older sister was the wild child in our house- she tells about skipping school and smoking Kools while leaning on the apple tree in the yard, reading a Frank Yerby novel. She said it made her feel so grown-up it almost made up for getting sick from the smoking.

Frank Yerby would have been an "R" rated novelist had they had ratings back then. Our school burned down in '62, and folks from the community donated books to rebuild the library stacks. Took awhile for the librarians to sift through and take out the ones not suitable for pliable young minds, so we had some pretty good reading for awhile! I found one by Charles Knickerbocker, I think it was, that was really racy- my friends just quietly checked it out, one after the other, until the librarian's suspicions were aroused (pun intended, of course), and the book disappeared from the shelf.
 
Mike (WA),

LOL - I can just imagine swarms of kids checking out inappropriate books.

I really was too scared to misbehave much... I knew God or Mom would get ahold of me sooner or later - and I think I was more afraid of Mom. She was a tough ol' cookie.
 
Had an 87 Dakota 2.2L 5 speed in high school. With the little motor up front it probably handled as well as any sports car of its day. Normally took a curve on rte 19 posted for 25 at 40, half asleep one day I hit it at 45, it held, but I could hear stone tinking off metal, and it sure wasn't my wheelwells, don't know for certain how close I was to the guardrail.

A Dodge Neon is surprisingly stable when the speedometer is showing 125.
 
Anybody remember probably 36 or 46 fords. You could take either half dollar or silver dollar and hold on terminals of ignition switch and crank her up. Only problem was steering was locked, but you could fool around in the car dealers lots with them a bit. Guess who taught me this? My own pop the amateur car salesman of Detroit. He would go down south pulling a car and come back on bus with tow bar in hand many, many times in forties and fifties. He never brought any cars back. Said they were all worn out except for the bodies. In South Carolina. He was born in 1898. I was born in 43. Had the oldest and coolest dad around. He could climb trees at 65 that nobody would challenge him. Dave
 
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