Back in January, Amber and I realized that we needed to sell the Z.  As much as I wanted to keep it, I knew it needed to go.  Among other things, I knew it was going to need new tires again before the end of the year, to replace the tires I put on it just last spring.  Running through an $1100 set of new tires every year is just not within my budget.

I put it up for sale online and had interest pretty quickly, where “interest” is defined as “drooling teenage boys wondering if I will give my car away to them for nothing.”  So after enduring that for a number of months, I was so pleased when a mature gentleman with a thing for cars expressed some interest.  After he took the car for a test drive, he was in love.  Who could blame him?

Even though he was taking my baby away, I felt pretty happy because I know he’s gonna take good care of her.  Pretty much, I figure that is what it will feel like when my girls get married.

As a final act of affection, I washed the Z up good and had Amber take some pictures for posterity.  You can access the whole set here.

Slideshow:

Clearly, I was established in my lane, not doing anything wrong, when the other driver made an unsafe lane change into my lane, and my actions avoided a more serious accident.

Well, apparently not to clearly to the insurance company or the Utah Highway Patrol.  After discussing with the UHP, the insurance company came back and told me that they have determined that I am 100% responsible for the accident.

(???)

I spoke with the insurance company some more today and got some additional clues.  ”For one thing,” she said, “running into a stationary object will always have you at least 50% responsible.”

I admit, I did hit a stationary object.  I was unable to avoid striking an aluminum pole when I was forced off the road at freeway speed.  At my age, I guess my reaction time is not down to mere thousandths of a second.  Or I didn’t want to roll the car over by making too abrupt a correction.  But what about the whole part about BEING FORCED OFF THE FREEWAY?!?!?

I asked her about this, in a somewhat calmer tone.  It appears they’d forgotten that part.  I explained, “You do realize that I had to leave the road to avoid a collision with the other vehicle, right?  If I had not done that, we would be talking about a multiple vehicle accident, much worse damage to both vehicles, and we would likely have medical bills, even serious ones, in addition, right?”

I’m thinking, You are holding me 100% responsible because, when thrust into near-accident situation by another driver’s carelessness, I took the only course of action available to me to avoid serious damage and injury?

I figure she has some lookup table or database on her computer that says I’m responsible.  Where is the common sense in all this?

Needless to say we are having some discussions about this until I am able to get them to be reasonable.

Something in all of this seems wrong to me.  While driving like a normal, sane person, making a normal, sane pass on the freeway, another careless driver (or, possibly, ruthless, but let’s not judge, shall we?) cuts directly over into my path.  Because I took action to avoid the accident, he got off scott free while I have to pay the deductible and deal with the UHP and the insurance company telling me I’m responsible.  If, instead, I’d stood my ground, or simply failed to avoid the accident, I probably would have totaled the Z, totaled their car as well, and we might be writing this from a hospital bed.  But hey, I wouldn’t be paying for the accident!

Given the options, I’m still glad I avoided the accident.  But it still seems like I’m getting it from all directions and I didn’t do anything wrong.

Proactivity might be one of the most misunderstood and abused terms in business today and over the past decade.  As it is described in Covey’s “7 Habits of Highly Effective People”, it is a powerful principle that enables a person to realize they are truly in control of their own life and that it is up to them to make their life what they want of it.  As it is used in business, however, it is a catch-all used by management to lay blame at the feet of individual contributors.  For as much as business people use the term, it is surprising to see how poorly they really understand it.

(I believe Scott Adams would agree with me; hence the cartoon above.)

I’ve been told countless times in a business context that I need to be “more proactive.”  One of the champions of this was IBM.  I was hired by IBM in April of 1998 to port a server application from a mainframe to an RS6000 UNIX platform.  Funny thing was, once I started I found out something kinda funny:  My team didn’t have access to a UNIX machine for me to program on, and didn’t have budget to buy one.  I spent the better part of that year prototyping the code on my Windows laptop, hoping it would work on a UNIX machine, along with searching throughout the site for groups with unused UNIX workstations that I could repurpose for my needs.  It took several months before I finally found a refurbished RS6000 machine that we could afford and was able to arrange to have it shipped to Boulder where I worked.  Finally I had the right equipment to do the job I had been hired for many months before.

At my annual review, I was a bit surprised to hear in my feedback that the company was disappointed in the work I’d done.  Given the constraints on budget and purchasing, and given my organization’s complete lack of any knowledge whatsoever as to how to even acquire the hardware I needed, I felt I’d done a pretty good job of finding what we needed to move forward.  Instead, my feedback was that I hadn’t made nearly the progress on the code that they had hoped for.

When I pointed out to them, “But, you failed to provide me the equipment I needed to produce this code,” their response was, “Well, you need to be more proactive.”

I heard it then and I’ve heard it a lot since.

Last week after we exited the freeway where there was no exit ramp, I thought about this a lot for a good 24 hours or so.  I felt horrible about what had happened.  I felt bad for what had happened to the car, bad for frightening my son, bad for nearly having a serious accident.  I thought over and over about all the things I could have done differently.  Most dominant in my mind was this:  I could have assumed that the driver of the other car would suddenly move over into my lane and cut me off and force me off the road.  I could have assumed that he would not see me there.  I could have passed at a different spot on the freeway.  I could have …, I could have …, I could have …

Then I suddenly realized:  No, Matt.  No.  When a person is driving, it is THEIR responsibility to make a safe lane change.  I was established in my lane.  The other driver did not make a safe lane change.  It was his fault.  Not mine.  His.

I realized that I’ve been trained to feel responsible for things that are not my fault.  I’ve been trained to feel guilty when something I’m associated with goes poorly, as though I am automatically responsible for the success or failure of anything with which I have any association.

Fact is, this is just simply not true.  Proactivity means to accept responsibility for those things which are your responsibility, and to take it upon yourself to take action, make the best of things, and improve your life and those around you, true.  But it doesn’t mean that you accept blame or feel guilty for things you are not responsible for.

If, heaven forbid, one of my children were to start using drugs, I would feel terribly about that.  I would examine the situation and do everything in my power to help change the situation, to support their attempts to quit, to get them the help they need, whatever.  That is being proactive.  But I would not take the blame for their choice.  My children know that it is wrong to use drugs.  They’ve been taught.  They ultimately have a right to choose, and I don’t have to accept full responsibility for their choices in order to be a proactive person.

The driver of the red car made an unsafe lane change.  Can I drive more defensively in the future?  Sure.  Can I do a better job of assuming the person I’m passing doesn’t know I’m there?  Yes.  Is my accident last year my fault?  No.  No it is not.  And I’m not going to waste another second of my life feeling guilty about something that isn’t my fault.

I’ve raved before about “7 Habits” and, without question, I’m a Covey disciple.  Proactivity is a key guiding principle of my life.  But sometimes, it isn’t my fault.

I drove my 350Z.  I was excited to take it on a road trip anyway, but ironically the primary reason I took it is because it is the most fuel efficient vehicle I own.  (Sad but true.)  Knowing the temptation it would be to attack those open roads at high speeds, I decided not to speed at all and just set my speedometer at the speed limit and followed this strategy throughout the whole trip.

At about ten miles north of Beaver, Utah, I was cruising along at 80 mph in an 80 mph zone, in the right lane, just slightly catching a red 4-door sedan that was maybe 100 yards or so in front of me, maybe at a rate of one mile per hour faster than the red vehicle ahead.  Further ahead of us was a large semi.  We began heading up a hill and I could see that I was moving slightly faster than the traffic ahead, so I moved to the left lane of the two-lane freeway.  I could also see, however, that the red vehicle was quite a bit faster than the semi ahead.  As I closed the gap to the red vehicle, I continued to monitor it carefully, expecting it to move over into the left lane ahead and prepared to slow down to allow it to change lanes.

It never did.

Finally, by the time we neared the semi, I became convinced that the red vehicle was waiting for me to pass it and then it would follow me past the semi.  I accelerated slightly by two or three miles per hour to try to get past a bit quicker.  Suddenly, the red vehicle turned on its left signal and made a slight move left.  I let off the accelerator to go for the brake, but at that moment the red vehicle seemed to cease moving left and slow, seemingly deciding (or deciding again) to let me past.  I proceeded to pass him.  By this point my front bumper was roughly even with the red vehicle’s rear wheels.

Suddenly, the red vehicle moved rapidly into the left lane.  Not just sufficiently to avoid the semi — it moved completely into the left lane clear to the left hand side.  I quickly veered to my left to avoid contact.  In order to avoid hitting the red vehicle, I had to drive completely off the freeway altogether.

At 80 mph.  In a sports car with maybe four to six inches of ground clearance.

My primary thought at this point was to regain control of the vehicle by gradually slowing down and avoiding any major corrections.  The first obstacle was one of those three-foot-high aluminum posts with a reflector on top.  I was about 95% successful at missing this post, clipping it with the outside front right corner.  Next I realized that we were careening through the median toward the northbound lanes, which median sloped sideways at perhaps a 10%-12% grade.  I carefully brought the vehicle back to the right, smashing through one sagebrush plant after another, and somehow avoided rolling the vehicle over and brought it back onto the left southbound shoulder at maybe half of my original speed.  I slowed the vehicle to a stop and got out to survey the damage.

The first thing I noticed when I got out was a red four-door sedan continuing along the freeway southbound.  It did not turn around or stop.  I never saw it again.

I walked around the car slowly, looking for broken bits.  Mostly I saw tires and wheels full of dust and leaves and weed seeds.  I came around to the front right corner and saw where my 350Z and the reflector post had become acquainted.

The reflector pole does not play nice.

As you can see, the corner of the bumper had broken completely off.  You can clearly see where the post hit and caved in the fender.  That whitish container there is the windshield wiper fluid container; it is completely ruined.  The headlight is cracked and there is other damage, possibly more hidden damage.  I kicked the air in disgust, then briefly clasped my head in my hands and bent down a bit to catch my breath.  I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I tried to calm myself down.

When I looked up I saw that a pickup truck had pulled up behind me.  The driver hopped out and ran up to help.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah.  I think so,” I replied.  ”I’ve got some damage on the front of my car.”

“You aren’t hurt?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Anyone in your car with you?”

“Yeah, my son.”

“Is he alright?”

“Uh, I don’t know.”  Yeah, I’m a great father.  I’m glad someone was there to remind me.  I checked with my son, who was pretty shaken up but otherwise unhurt.

The truck driver then said, “Man, that was some amazing driving.  That red car just completely ran you right off the road.  I saw the whole thing.  I was SURE you were gonna roll that thing.  You must be one hell of a driver to have saved that one.”

I looked back on the 100 yards or so we’d traveled off road.  I’m not sure how we kept from rolling it either.

He offered to call the local dispatch in Beaver.  He handed me his cell phone, at which point I described the red vehicle to the dispatch officer.  He confirmed that they would send officers out to look (in vain, as it turned out) for the red vehicle.  Meanwhile, a county Sheriff was sent to us to monitor the situation, and later a Highway Patrolman showed up to take a statement.

I let the Z run while we waited for the police, while I wrote out my statement, while we waited to see if anyone found and stopped the red vehicle.  I continually was monitoring my son’s mental state (I probably asked him “Are you alright?” so many times he was about to hit me) as well as the state of the car.  I was particularly looking for things like overheating (indicating a coolant leak) or an oil pressure drop (indicating an oil leak) as well as looking specifically for leaking fluids, smoke, or other problems, and listening for weird, atypical sounds.  Amazingly the Z seemed to be running completely normal.  Aside from a warning light on my dashboard indicating that I had no washer fluid, there were no indications from inside the car that anything abnormal happened.

Once things were wrapped up, I asked the Highway Patrolman to follow us into Beaver, which he agreed to.  I carefully pulled onto the freeway, listening to the sounds of the engine, checking to see how the steering and handling felt.  Other than a strange vibrating noise underneath the car, everything seemed perfectly normal.

We pulled off the freeway in Beaver, waved at the Highway Patrolman as he continued down the freeway, and pulled into a parking stall at truck stop to do a more thorough check.  Most worrisome was the vibration under the car.  After stopping, I was very relieved to see a large sagebrush branch stuck to the underside of the car.  We removed the branch and drove over to the gas pump.  No vibration.  What a relief.

After filling with gas, I decided to check the air pressure of the tires.  The front right tire, most directly impacted by the post, seemed low.  I drove to a tire shop next door who offered to check the tire for leaks.  Despite the low pressure, no leaks were found.  Derrick and I decided to get a bite to eat at a nearby Wendy’s and check the air pressure again after eating to see if the pressure maintained.

I ate, sort of.  Wasn’t exactly in the mood.  Derrick, on the other hand, devoured everything in front of him while I picked at my sandwich and fries.  Finally we threw my food away and, after verifying that the tire pressure had maintained correctly, we climbed into the car.

But before leaving, we prayed.  We thanked our Heavenly Father that we had survived the incident and that we were not hurt.  We thanked Him that I had been able to safely bring the vehicle to a stop and that we’d avoided a major accident.  We thanked Him that the vehicle was relatively unharmed and seemed to be functioning properly.  We thanked Him for people who stopped to help us.  We asked Him to help me to calm down and relax as we proceeded along on our journey.  We asked Him that the car might function properly and get us where we were headed safely.

What a relief to report that we continued on to St. George without incident, and last night we returned back to Spanish Fork safely.  I fully expect that there is some hidden damage, but I was very surprised, relieved, and honestly a bit proud that my Z had carried us home.

We pulled into the garage and I turned the car off.  ”Good girl,” I said to my Z as I patted the center console, and then gently kissed the steering wheel.  Say what you will.  I love that car.

As far as the red car is concerned, I admit initially I was quite angry.  Initially I wondered what was wrong with someone to just run me right off the road like that.  Now, however, I’m willing to give the benefit of doubt.  Is it possible that the driver of the red car did not know we were there?  Is it possible that the red car didn’t stop because the driver simply did not know what had happened?  Yes, it is possible.  I’d rather think it was negligent, not malicious.

From our point of view, we are grateful today that we survived it, and not just survived but escaped relatively unharmed.  Neither Derrick nor I were hurt in any way.  We are grateful for a good man who stopped to help, who may feel that he really accomplished nothing, but in fact helped me calm down and think, which was crucially important.  We are grateful that somehow the car was able to continue on without trouble.  And while I’m fully aware that the 350Z is not an off-road vehicle, and while I’m very happy to accept glowing and raving compliments about my excellent driving ability, I can tell you one thing right now without hesitation:  If we’d been in my red truck, we would have rolled it down the slope in the median toward the northbound lane, and we almost surely would have been severely injured or killed.

In which case, you wouldn’t have heard this story.  So you should be grateful too.

This car is AWESOME

Check this mother out. What is that? A blown Ford Fiesta?

I’m not sure what it is.  I didn’t get a chance to get a good look, because I was hurrying to take this picture before the owner caught me.  You know how people are when they have a sweet ride like this bad boy.  They get tired and a little paranoid when people are hanging around their car all the time.

I thought about making him an offer, but figured it is probably too much car for me.  I bought the Z instead.

I bought it in 1999 for $1500.  I didn’t buy it because it was fuel efficient; I bought it because it’s like driving a go-kart every day.  Regardless, fuel efficiency was a welcome bonus with the CRX.  I added an aftermarket AEM intake and a Greddy EVO-2 cat-back exhaust which had a notable positive effect on performance (and it made it sound a lot better, too).

I drove it from Provo to Logan one time in 2003 and tested my fuel mileage on that trip.  Driving on the freeway, at between 70 and 80 mph most of the way, with performance modifications on a 15-year-old CRX with over 200,000 miles, I got just over 44 miles per gallon.

Yes, that’s right:  44 miles per gallon.

According to fueleconomy.gov, there are only two cars sold today that have better fuel economy than my CRX did.  Both of those cars are ugly, boring hybrids, whereas my CRX was a bundle of fuel efficient joy.  In fairness, the list is not entirely complete; for one, the all-electric Tesla Roadster is available for purchase and effectively gets infinite mpg since it is a pure electric.  Still, I think it is safe to say that the lack of fuel efficiency in cars is surprisingly disappointing.

I remember growing up in the late 70s and early 80s when we were introduced to such appalling vehicles as the Hyundai Excel and the Yugo 45, all in a quest to achieve better and better fuel economy.  I remember some cars advertising average highway mpg rates in the high 40s and even the low 50s.  I distinctly remember thinking that surely, by the time I was an adult, cars would be easily getting 80 to 100 mpg and that this would be so commonplace that it wasn’t really remarkable.  Funny how things have NOT gone that way.  Take a look at that list on fueleconomy.gov again.  Notice how many of those cars considered to be among the most efficient are only getting average highway mpg in the 30s.  Why do we think this is remarkable?  My 350Z is a 300 HP sports car, not an economy car, and I drive it as such; yet even in that car I’m averaging nearly 26 mpg!

It seems like we should be able to expect more than what we’re getting.

First off, I bought the Z because I like hot cars.  I like horsepower, speed, handling, and great looks.  I didn’t buy the Z to impress anyone or to try to be cool.

I know that sounds like an excuse, but after a number of comments from friends hither and yon, I really did think inwardly about why I bought that car.  I can honestly say that I did it for myself, not to impress people or try to be someone I’m not.  I’m relieved to find that out.

That being said, one of the first things I learned about the Z was this:  You get noticed.  People look as you drive by them on the freeway or as they drive by you.  They will comment, “Nice car, man,” or some such, when you park near them in the parking lot, or you’ll catch them walking around your car looking when you come out of the convenience store.

Not most people, but some people.  This never happened with my Grand Prix.

Another thing I noticed:  It’s kind of a chick car.  I had it parked there at the Roosevelt Car Show next to my brother’s Mustang GT and I spent a fair part of the day sitting there while people walked by.  When people were walking up, girls would walk to the Z and guys would walk to the Mustang.  Guys would look at them both and comment to each other on how they liked the Mustang better; girls would comment to each other on how they liked the Z better.  In the latter case, some variant of the word “cute” was overheard a number of times.  This was pretty much a universal thing.

So if a Mustang is more of a guy’s car, maybe I should’ve bought a Mustang instead.  Except my wife really likes going out on dates in the Z.

A good thing I learned:  If you buy a sports car, you need some time to get used to it.  Learning where the clutch engage point is, how long it takes for the engine and transmission to warm up, how strong the brakes are, etc. took a while.  The friction limits for turning are particularly important.  I’ve almost gotten myself into trouble trying to turn with too high a g-load.  After a year of driving and about 15000 miles, I’m still learning, so if you buy a sports car, be prepared to settle in and get to know her slowly.

300 horsepower can get you into trouble in a hurry.  This is a long-term relationship, not a fling, so get to be friends first.

Now that I’ve had the Z for a year, I can tell you about some of the bad points:

• The blind spot.  Holy cow, do the 350Zs have a blind spot.  That spot off the left rear corner is completely out of my vision.  This is especially true a) if the sun is shining into the driver side window, or b) if it is dark.  Now you know — 350Zs have a serious blind spot.  If a Z is merging onto the freeway and he cuts you off, just know that he probably can’t see you there and it was most likely unintentional.
• Alignment.  You have to be very careful with a Z’s alignment so you avoid tire problems.  This means I end up having the tires rotated a lot – every 3000-5000 miles.  It’s annoying.
• Expensive repairs.  Since I bought it about a year ago, I’ve spent over $4000 in repairs.  Here’s what I paid for:
  • $1100 – New tires.
  • $2600 – New fan, water pump, and thermostat.  (Yes, really.)
  • $100 – New battery.
  • $300 – New serpentine belt and tensioner.

Of course, those are minor in comparison to the good points, some of which are:

• Handling.  The Z is like the ideal child:  Whatever I tell it to do, it does.  Immediately.  Turn here?  Okay.  Stop here?  No problem.  Jump into that small opening in traffic?  Yes Daddy.
• Power.  The Z has a weight-to-horsepower ratio of just over 11 (lower numbers are better).  Compare that to 19 for my wife’s Durango and my old Grand Prix, or 18 for my CRX.  Or compare it to 11 for a Mustang GT, 7.5 for a Corvette, or 9.2 for a Porsche Cayman S.  The Z can push you back in the seat and as you climb through the gears it just keeps grabbing at the pavement and lunging you forward.  I have no idea how fast it will go.
• Sound.  The Z comes with an excellent sound system:  The Nissan VQ35DE, an awesome 3.5L multi-port-fuel-injected V6 with variable valve timing.  If you romp on it hard enough to cross the variable timing threshold you will be rewarded with an awesome sonic wonder as the engine climbs toward the 6600 RPM redline.  And if you don’t like that sound system, or are in a place where you can’t really experience it, the Kenwood/MTX/Rockford Fosgate setup in my Z is a pretty decent substitute.
• Look and Feel.  It looks awesome from nearly every angle.  It feels awesome when you are sitting inside it.  The ergonomics would make Steve Jobs proud.  And when you strap into those bucket seats and close those high-sided doors, it feels like your car is giving you a big old man-hug.  Sorry, but it is true.

So, am I glad I bought it?

Yes.  And no.  But mostly yes.  I love driving it.  Love love love driving it.  Even when I’m not speeding, which truthfully is most of the time, I really love to drive it.  I love to look at it, and then drive it some more.

I love the thought of owning it.  The reality of owning it is less great.  It’s expensive to maintain.  My other car was fully paid for, and when I sold it there wasn’t a thing wrong with it.  Now, every time I make a payment on the Z or have to get something fixed, I think about how the Grand Prix was running excellent and was fully paid for.  Maybe I should have just stuck with the Grand Prix instead.  Inside my mind, it will forever be running perfect with no flaws.

But it will never be as much fun.

But Rangers and Bronco IIs are primarily what I am questing for.  Now that I’ve got the 350Z and I’ve sold my Grand Prix, life is mostly great except I’m concerned about winter.

Fact is, there are just too many people around here who are praying for snow all the time.  I’ve been trying to tempt them into grievous sin in order to keep the roads nice and dry but they aren’t giving in.  I don’t want to risk trying to drive the Z in the snow, with all that horsepower going just to the rear wheels.  So I’ve been looking for a little truck or SUV.

Here are the basic requirements:

• Must run
• Four wheel drive must work
• Must pass inspection, or be able to pass with minimal investment
• Must not be completely gutless
• Must not be a complete pile
• Ideally should be fuel injected, not carbureted
• No more than $1500

I found a candidate not too long ago.  It was a 1990 Bronco II with a little bit of extras done to it for only $1300.  It looked like just what I wanted.  Here’s the chronology of events:

• See the truck online for sale.
• Text the owner to say I’d like to look at his truck.
• He texts me back to say after work will be fine.  He lives in Salt Lake; I live in Spanish Fork and work in Lehi, so I want to go see it before I head the opposite direction home.
• As I’m preparing to leave I call to make sure he is around, nobody answers.  I tell him to call back within the hour because after that I’m heading home.
• An hour and 15 minutes later he calls to say, “Now is a good time.”
• When I get home I text back and say, “Sorry I missed you; maybe tomorrow.”
• The next day I try to see if he will be home that night for me to look at it.
• About midday he says, “Sorry, I just sold it.”

Dang.

The next one was a slight deviation from my quest:  a 1990 GMC S-15 Jimmy for $1000.  The ad online says, “It runs great, no problems.”  I stopped by to look.  It was admittedly in pretty straight condition — good exterior, clean interior, good upholstery.  Then I noticed the front right tire is worn down to the cords on the outside edge of the tire.  Bad suspension?  Bad alignment?  Who knows.  I open the hood and it is a carbureted V6.  Hmm.  Then I asked, “So, how does it run?”  “Oh it runs great.”  “No transmission problems?”  “No.  Well, it won’t stay in first gear.”

That doesn’t sound like “no problems” to me.

I took it for a test drive.  GUTLESS.  You have to start in second gear all the time, which makes matters worse.  Feels like it is about to fall apart all the time.  Moving on.

The next candidate is a black 1990 Ford Ranger extended cab.  Stopped by to take a look the other day.  Paint job is the old driveway special (several cans of spray paint) over what looks like some bondo work.  Interior is THRASHED.  This one is at a dealership.  The dealer says, “I just took it in on trade.  It runs, but it makes a weird noise when it runs.  I have no idea if the four wheel drive works or not.”

Still, that one has some potential.  But an engine that makes a weird noise makes me pretty nervous.

The next candidate is another black 1990 Ford Ranger, which is also red and white — it was wrecked and had some body panels replaced.  Sounds like it runs pretty good and that the four wheel drive works.  I’ve heard this before though.  Will have to take a look shortly.

A running, four wheel drive, non-pile Ranger or Bronco II for under $1500?  It sounds like a grail quest.  I’ll keep you updated.

It was fun, too, even if none of us won anything.  It was fun just being there with my dad and brother and having people walk by and wonder why I parked my 350Z there.

My 2003 Nissan 350Z, looking her best.

Here’s my car parked in between my brother’s Mustang (background) and my dad’s Econoline (not pictured).  I washed and vacuumed and scrubbed and detailed that car for about three hours before the show, and I must say it looked really fine.  Oddly, right after the show ended, it rained for about 30 seconds, just long enough to get my car dirty again.  Oh well.

My dads 1961 Ford Econoline van

Dad just started working on this 1961 Ford Econoline van. It is pretty sweet. I love the all white paint with the black accents and the very subtle gray pinstripe all around. He’s got a 302 in the doghouse inside the van and plans to redo the interior next.

The story on those wheels is pretty cool. He was looking for those exact wheels by American Racing, Torq Thrust IIs, and looked all over for the sizes he needed (two different sizes, front and rear). The fronts, 14x6s, were nearly impossible to find. Then he called one place who just happened to have two of them left, along with six of the size he needed for the rears. So he took two of each, and the dealer was thrilled to get rid of his two 14x6s and even himself out with four remaining of the other size.

My brothers 2009 Mustang GT, my 350Z, and my dads Econoline

In the foreground is my brother’s 2009 Ford Mustang GT. He’s added a Roush bodykit and Shelby Super Snake wheels and a lowered suspension so far. He wonders if it is weird to have Shelby wheels and a Roush body kit, but I think it is cool to make your own Mustang that has your favorite components from each builder.

Original Roosevelt City Fire Truck

My dad is mayor of Roosevelt, so I went with him to drive this to the show. If you lived more than a half mile from the fire department and had a fire back then, there was really no point in calling the fire department. It’s a neat truck though.

Early 30s Ford Coupe

I want to say this is a ’32 Ford but I’m really not sure. I do know it belongs to my dad’s friend Mike Mahoney, who has like 30 cars.

Another early 30s Ford Coupe

Another Ford coupe, ’31 or ’32 (I really should learn to tell the difference). This one belongs to another of my dad’s friends, Dennis Peterson. Dennis restored this car himself, repairing all the rust and pounding out all the dents and smoothing out the whole body by hand. He is incredibly talented. He also did all the body work on my dad’s Econoline and is currently working on another project which will be pretty awesome when it is done.

Early 70s Dodge Dart

When Dad and I brought the fire truck into the show we followed this ’70 or ’71 (again, can’t remember) Dodge Dart. I wondered to myself if it belonged to my cousin Joe Gardner. I was right. As long as I can remember Joe has restored a number of really cool Mopar cars – Chargers, Challengers, Darts, Superbees, etc.

Award-winner for Best of 80s and Newer

This mostly stock gray 2007 Mustang GT beat my brother’s 2009 Mustang GT somehow, which goes to show that the people who judge the shows don’t always know what they are doing. I mean, it’s a nice looking Mustang, but doesn’t have nearly as much done to it as my brother’s does.

White 3DCarbon Mustang GT

If any Mustang there was better than my brother’s, it was this white 3DCarbon Mustang pictured here.

Award-winning 30s Ford Coupe

This blue ’31 or ’32 Ford coupe won some award, maybe for best 30′s car? Or most unique? Can’t remember. Take a look at this engine though, for a clue as to why:

Now that is a sweet engine.

Flathead Offenhauser

The roadster carrying this sweet litttle Offy won Best In-Progress Car. Which seems kinda like a weird award, since pretty much all the cars there would be considered “in-progress.”

Beautiful 50s Chevy

This is a beautiful car. Look carefully and you can see the well-done ghosted flames along the side. It won Best 50s Car and, since the owner drove it all the way from Riverside, California, it also won an award for furthest distance traveled to attend the show.

Best Of Show 2010 - 1937 Ford Coupe

This 1937 Ford Coupe from Vernal, Utah won Best Of Show and definitely deserved it. Which is much better than the week before, at another car show in Vernal, where this car was beaten for Best Of Show by a bone-stock straight-off-the-showroom-floor 2010 Camaro. This car is a beautiful work of art from every angle and no detail is left undone.

Just check out the beautifully done interior:

1937 Ford Coupe custom interior

1931 Ford Vicky

This beautiful chopped and dropped ’31 Ford Vicky had to sit next to the ’37 Ford above, so it had a rough go. It definitely deserved to win something, so I’m glad my dad chose to give it the Mayor’s Choice award.

Luckily for me, I already have one of them.

Nissan 350Z (source: seriouswheels.com)

1st Generation COPO Camaro (source: arkansascamaro.com)
This is a Yenko, but I'd also take a Dana, Nickey, or Baldwin Motion

Corvette Z06 (source: wallpaperstock.net)

Lotus Exige (source: nicewallpapers.info)

Ferrari 458 Italia (source: textually.org)

Aston Martin V12 Vantage (source: carclub.ru)

RUF RT12 (source: carsoftheworld.eu)

Lamborghini Murcielago LP640 (source: netcarshow.com)

Ferrari FXX (source: seriouswheels.com)

McLaren F1 LM (source: protopage.com)