That first year of racing was quite interesting. Dave had a trailer, which I ended up with, but when it came to pulling that trailer, sometimes we were so close to up-a-creek it wasn't even funny. Sometimes it was Dad's ol' six-cylinder F-150, sometimes it was whatever Dave had brought home from wherever he happened to be working at the time, anything from a half-ton Chevy from a small family-owned concrete company to an enormous crew-cab International diesel from a big contractor.
In 2000, Ford came out with The Excursion; the big four-door SUV based on a single-wheel one-ton, seats for eight, Powerstroke Diesel, big enough to handle a good-size trailer... I didn't need any convincing, I wanted one. I so seriously wanted one, but the price scared the shit outta me. I knew there was nooooo way I could make the payments on something like that.
Toward the end of the 2000 racing season, Dave was makin' good money even though he had bad credit, so I finally agreed to go take a walk through the Ford dealership out in Sand Springs. I still wanted an Excursion, but I knew that since it was his money, I really had to let him have the final say. We ended up at the Chevy dealership on the other side of the fence, checkin' out an F-250 on the back row. It was less money, a long bed, and it had a big block too, so that's what we got... That black & silver truck is the reason why the second Twenty ended up with black paint, and even after we went with a fully orange paint scheme, the 20's are still orange numbers with white trim on a black background.
Here I am, years later. The big-block F-250 is long gone, to wherever good ol' trucks go when the insurance company pays 'em off. Dave's still close, but long gone to wherever good Catholic boys go when God calls 'em away from their prayin' Baptist girlfriends. The first Twenty will never see the track again, save for parts that have migrated through other cars and into the present Twenty. My Discover Card, which was with me before college and stayed with me (thankfully) even through "credit counseling," is still with me.
Saturday morning, I flicked out my Discover Card for something I'd wanted for a long time. With a salute to The Salvation Army of Tulsa, I handed the Mark 8 keys to Clay and drove home in this:
It's not perfect, but it's very, very nice for the money I spent. It's not the Powerstroke Diesel that I wanted, but it was such a deal, I really don't mind. It feels nice out on the road, it's fairly clean inside, and it's huge. It's seriously big, and I'm seriously crazy about it!
More later... _\,,/
Labels: I Love Me Some Cars