"To the MOON, Alice".
Just a way to introduce the idea that the gray GT has travelled somewhere
near a quarter-million miles, roughly the distance from Earth to Moon.
I had that car for just a year or two, long enough to break it in carefully
and thoroughly, come close to a couple of wins in the Showroom Stock
slalom category (I found results in Gridlines showing I was a consistent
third or fourth in class "Y" with times apparently too embarrassing
to contrast with those published for the winners; however I did "catch
fire" to take second in one event, and actually win the class once,
for sure ! ), race it at
Tijuana and make one joyous, adventureful trip to Guaymas, Sonora,
Mexico.
By coincidence, about the time I was deciding
I needed a substantial car to tow the roadster to races, sister Sandy needed a
car to wear to college at USC. Dad bought the GT for her, and I shopped until
the Dodge Dart 2-door hardtop, 273 V-8 2-barrel
carburetor, auto transmission, power steering, medium metallic blue repaint over
a lighter blue, came to match the template, more or less. Here's one for you:
I forgot about it, didn't include it on the Missing Cars list. I'll fix that.
Done. Sandy drove the GT for several
years, to and fro, hither and yon, San Bernardino and Los Angeles, Anaheim, Azusa
and Cuc Amonga. One season she went to most of the sports car races in the Western
United States. Then she found a situation in San Diego. And a Lotus Elan.
By coincidence, she had the Lotus urge at about the same time Dad took the
Ventura College job. He had a condo in Ventura and a home in Redlands, spent weeknights
in the coastal city, weekends on the edge of the desert. He put a lot of miles
on GT, and escorted it through its middle, or rebuild-darn-near-everything, years.
On one occasion his trusted local Redlands mechanic told him he needed a
new cylinder head. I got one through an in-law of a friend. It was one of the
few decent MG B non-smog plumbing heads left in the world. It was from a seldom-used
wreck, and hadn't ever even had the seats faced. I paid a good price for it, and
carried it off to Dad. A few days later he called to say the mechanic had told
him the head was no good, was cracked, had the seats sunk so deep they couldn't
be recovered. That didn't sound at all like the head I had left with
him. I went and picked it up, and took it back to the seller. He glanced at it
and said it was not the head he had sold me. I remembered he had used a stamp
to mark the head before he handed it over to me. The head I took back was not
marked. I told Dad he had been robbed. You can bet the thief sold it for three
times what I paid. It still angries my blood to think of this. MTK |