The Maverick, my obsession...

Yep, my first car.

I still remember the day I found her (and yes, I refer to it as her. It's perfectly normal to refer to cars as people, right? ). My father and I had been driving around different car lots looking for my future ride, but I was (and still am) picky about what my first rig would be. I had my heart set on something that was old and cheap, something the average used car lot didn't deal with. The only thing that sparked my interest was a tired AMC Eagle station wagon. Heading back for home, my dad spotted it from the road. She was sitting on a trailer on a farm next to the highway.

A 1974 Ford Maverick 2 door sedan.

At the time she wore a rusty, faded metallic gold paint job with a vinyl roof that had been burned off by the sun. Being equipped with the luxury decor option, there were vinyl filled chrome trim on the sides, color matching hubcaps, and shag carpeting. The interior was quite weathered, headliner falling down, driver seat ripped, dashboard and steering wheel cracked. Time and salty roads had taken their toll on the body, leaving football sized holes in the floor and quarter panels, which provided easy access to the truck. Though disappointing at the time, a 250ci straight six sat under the hood instead of the monstrous V-8 I had been hoping for. Since the keys were in the ignition, I decided to see if see still ran. Though the engine cranked over several times, she was reluctant to start and the battery wore down. After waiting a few moments, I tried once again. This time she sputtered to life with a delightful purr and her signature stutter. It was at that moment I knew this was going to be my car.

Due to the fact that the owner lived out of state(the car was on his parent's place), I had to wait a few weeks to hand over the $250 (one for every cubic inch of motor) to make her mine. My father and I spent the next eight months making her more presentable by curing most of the rust in the fenders, replacing the wheels with some mags, and tuning the engine. During this time, I took her out on numerous "midnight runs", practicing mostly illegal driving maneuvers, such as burnouts and triple digit speed runs(which she could barely muster, topping out at around 102). By the time I turned 16, the old Ford had morphed from Grandma's little runabout into a spiffy, metallic blue, hot rod wannabe.

This old rig has meant a lot to me. As a teenager, being able to drive was like heaven, and the Maverick was ticket to driving nirvana. She's been a (relatively) faithful steed, giving me much joy and many happy memories. But, not unlike a drug, she's been my curse. In the winter, the rusted out floor and ill heater made her quite a frigid bitch to drive, and the lack of an air conditioner caused your skin to melt and stick to the vinyl seats. She's brought me many frustrations, a bad reputation, and is the sole source of my criminal record. But, she seemed to age rather quickly during the time I've owned her, and she is in a dire need for repairs. That's why as of now, she is in pieces in my dad's garage. But, hopefully, by the end of the summer, she will be back terrorizing the road better than ever (especially with the five speed manual transmission and rally-inspired theme I've got planned for her)!

Oh yeah...