I drove the dog out of this little car, cutting doughnuts, and running the back roads of north Georgia. I even made the 20 mile solo drive through the "S" curves to Canton, to take my drivers license exam. After we did the road test, the State Trooper asked me how I got there and I replied "I drove here from Woodstock". He laughed and signed me off as "passed".
The car had 2-one barrel carbs which were real sludged-up and I decided to buy some rebuild kits and redo them. It was a daunting task, but I figured I could do it. My dad had taken a job in St. Louis with McDonnell-Douglass, so I took on the task solo and successfully, I might add. Well kind of.
Being inexperienced with gas-related repairs, I made the car-destrying error of not checking for leaks and in my haste to enjoy how much better it now ran, I headed out to work. The engine caught on fire as I drove to my new job in Marietta and that was the death of my cool little car. It looked like the photo below and was great, regardless of Mr. Nadar's slam. I have loved little cars and trucks ever since and still drive one, a KIA RIO 5. Do you have a first car story you would like to share?
