Ole Red

I've posted about the red truck that was my Daddy's pride and joy before. I don't know why I became the caretaker of it because I really thought one of his grandchildren would want the truck as a fun means of transportation. When nobody really wanted to take on the responsibility, I told Mama that I would. So, Ole Red stays parked in Mike's barn for most of the time enjoying a well-earned rest. 

Every now and then I take it out for a Sunday drive and blow the dust off of it. It is fun to drive for nostalgia's sake. Ole Red is a 1969 Ford Ranger pickup truck. Most of it is just like it was when it rolled off the assembly line. Daddy had it painted and new carpet put in it and had the seat recovered years ago. He replaced some pieces of chrome on it and it has a newer tailgate and floor in the bed because I had a Dalmatian dog when I was in high school that rode in it and would sometimes relieve himself on the tailgate, causing it to rust. My sister and Daddy put a newer radio with cassette player in it back in the 1980s when she was driving it to school.  I've had to replace the windshield wipers because the style that came on it are no longer manufactured. (You can see the vintage nature of the ceiling in the photos!) The rest, however is just like it was in 1969!

I always have fun when I take it out but I know that if I am going to have to stop somewhere, I need to have my hair combed and wear decent clothes - not just jump in and go for a joy ride in the old grungies! Why? Because whenever we stop somewhere, inevitably somebody will stroll over and want a closer look and ask what year it was made and where did I get it. 

There have been a whole lot of advancements that I take for granted since 1969. The steering column is longer and makes the steering wheel sit a whole lot closer than my newer truck. The windows are the old crank style that take a little more time and effort to raise and lower. Reaching the wiper control is a bit further from my fingertips because the dash is further from me and the steering wheel is so close to my belly! The headlight dimmer is a button on the floor and there are a few more little things like that which make it different from a newer model pickup.

When I've had to have some upkeep on it like changing the oil or swapping out the wiper blades, the guys at the auto care place always enjoy the opportunity to work on it and many times will have their photo made alongside of it. A couple of other folks wanted to use it for photos as well and one friend told me she thought I could make appointments and charge folks to have their picture made with it! For us it is just a nostalgic ride and a wonderful connection to my Daddy. 

It almost always brings a smile to my face and to those around me when we take it out, though. I think Daddy would be glad every time we go out for a joy ride and I hope to pass it along to somebody else in the family to enjoy some day down the road. Of course, that means that it will have to be somebody who learns to drive a standard shift, on-the-collar!

In the meantime, we will just smile and scoot on down the road for a joy ride. If you see us, wave!

Honk and Grin!

I spent over half the day cleaning and pampering earlier this week.  Oh, I wasn't pampering myself or even Mike.  I was pampering a truck...and it wasn't even the one I drive every day.  How does that happen?  I guess the concept of pampering a pickup was instilled in me long, long ago.

I remember as a little girl the day when my Daddy came home with a new-to-us pickup truck.  He came speeding down the hill toward our house and was honking the horn and grinning from-ear-to-ear the entire way down that hill.  Mama and I heard the ruckus and ran to the front yard to see what was going on.  As soon as he pulled into the driveway, we hopped in and he drove us around a bit.  Then, when we got back in the yard, I climbed all over it inspecting every square inch.  We were all so excited about that little red truck!

It was a well-loved vehicle when Daddy got it and he kept it for several years after that.  I remember climbing into the back of it to fill milk cans with water.  We would haul the water up to our old wooden milk barn when we first moved to the farm where I grew up.  I can see it and the rusty fenders in my mind's eye but I couldn't tell you much more about it - not even what make and model it was. 

When we cleared out all of Daddy's farming equipment a couple of years ago, one item did not go on the auction block - Daddy's 1969 pickup truck.  We talked Mama into keeping it just in case she needed a truck for hauling something around that wouldn't fit into her SUV.  It was rarely driven, though and was just something else for Mama to try to take care of.  She recently asked, once again, if one of us would take it and take care of it.  So, it made the way over here to our house.  It was parked in the hay barn and sat there for the past couple of weeks. 

Earlier this week I took some time to check into getting everything about it squared away.  I called the local insurance office and learned that it is considered a 'Classic Vehicle' and requires a bit of extra information when it comes to insurance coverage.  So, I did my homework to find out all the info I needed.  First, I Googled 1969 Ford Half-Ton Pickup to see if I could find something similar to put a value on it.  My expectation was that it would be worth two-to-three-thousand-dollars.  Boy, was I surprised to learn that I was dramatically incorrect!

The insurance company asked me to send them several photos showing the outside condition of the  truck and the motor.  Knowing that I didn't want to send them photos with dust and pollen coating the truck, I gave him a bath.  Then, I pulled him out into the lot and used my phone to take a few photos.  I emailed them to the insurance agent and checked to make certain that all I needed from that point was to provide them with a check and sign the policy paperwork. 

A short trip down the road and a quick signature and this little red truck is now protected.  The insurance agent was amazed at the condition of the truck, knowing that the Ranger had been Daddy's farm vehicle.  The agent could hardly believe that the Ranger only has a bit over 91,000 actual miles on him.  I told him that it was probably the newest truck Daddy ever bought.  I think there were less than ten miles on him when he picked him up from the dealership.  I also think Daddy was just as excited about getting that truck as he was that little red truck years earlier. 

Years later, Daddy got a ton pickup truck to use as the farm vehicle and for pulling a cattle trailer loaded with show cows.  This little red truck became our mode of transportation for my sister and I to get to and from school.  Then, after Daddy retired, he spent a bit of time replacing some chrome pieces on this little red truck and returning him to close-to-new condition.  He got antique tags for him and the Ranger became his folly, only to be driven for short joy rides.

Now the Ranger has become my responsibility.  I noticed that the cap for the windshield washer fluid is missing.  So, Mike and I will be on the hunt for that soon.  There is a bit more cleaning that needs to take place as well.  I don't think I should leave loose grass and the remains of a dirt-dauber nest on him.

As I was rinsing out the bed of the truck,  I thought about how many times I had ridden on those fenders and how my own children had also logged miles through the fields of the farm perched on those same humps with their hair blowing in the breeze.

This little red truck carries more than his own share of memories but he also hauls around memories of that other little red one that came before him.  I was very tempted to honk the horn and speed down the hill when I pulled him out of the barn to get ready for photos.

So, if you see us speeding down a hill some day taking a joy ride in the little red truck, honk the horn and we might just honk back and give you a casual wave while we motor and grin going on down the road!