Cars I've Known - 1973 Jeep Commando (Part 1) I'll start with the Jeep because I knew it best. 
The Vehicle:
1973 AMC Jeep Commando.  Forest Green with woodgrain decals on the side.  White, removable hard top with luggage rack.  304 V-8.

Modifications:

Previous owner installed a spare tire/jerry can rack on the back, the grill guard to end all grill guards up front, and a second gas tank.   At one time it sported a sunshade in the back window depicting a pair of English Setters on point. 

Years Owned/Mileage:
1979 - 1993.  I sold it with about 325,000, having put 300,000 on it myself. 

Collision History:
Two matchups - v. VW Rabbit (ca 1989) and v. Chevy Pick-up (ca 1986).  Grill guard worked (for me) in one, spare tire rack never closed right after the other.
After the rear-ender, I took the beast to a body shop to have the minor damage - an indentation in the lowest right rear - repaired.   I pulled up to pick it up on a Friday night.  The bodyshop owner invited me into his office, offered me a shot of Jack Daniels in a paper cup from out of desk and we BS'd about cars, life, etc. until the sun went down.  The Commando rolled out, and I drove it home.  Lesson learned: Examination of paintwork best done sober, and in the daylight.  

Significant Breakdowns:
Summer 1985 - Murphreesburo, Tennessee.   Water pump failure, right outside the tire plant. 
I had started out that morning from Paducah, Kentucky towards Austin, Texas.  Commando got hot.  Found a garage that set me up, but I ended up spending the night in Texarkana.
Summer 1983 - Dan Ryan Expressway, Chicago, Illinois.  The ball and socket joint in the clutch linkage failed during rush hour as my brother and I headed from Rockford, across to Hyde Park and then down to Texas.   Chicago's Finest pushed me to the side, and I clambered underneath.  I surveyed the damage and, with an old bandana and some borrowed wire, made a repair that held all the way to Dallas, where the appropriate replacement part was sourced.  Man, I felt good to feel that clutch, and get on the road again.  
Summer 1988 - Memorial Drive, Boston, Massachusetts.  Blown head gasket.  On a date, catastrophic failure due to my own failure headspace wise.  Date caught a cab before the tow truck arrived.  I remember the tow truck driver's remark and it was hoisted up "Man.... No rust!"   Yeah, a Texas car to be sure.  Almost salvaged the evening.  Almost.
Summer 1985(?) - I recall something about a lot of mud, plenty of cigarettes but no light, and someone being pulled out of wilderness at dawn by a short man in a Lincoln.  Don't think it was my Commando, could have been a 64 Land Cruiser or a 71 Blazer, but could have been the Commando.  On second thought, don't think it was.   

 

Labels: Car's I've Known, jeep commando

  ¶ 7:55 PM 0 Comments

  Thoughts on Indianapolis MotoGP Holy smokes. Racing in a violent thunderstorm. Water pooling on the track. Beer cans flying around. A red flag, and the 250s canceled. Rossi totally blowing off NBC's pimply faced pit lane reporter. (I'm downloading the BBC coverage) And, tragically for some, Rossi didn't make good on his promise to run naked down the front straight if he won.

Local boy (well, Spring, Texas) Ben Spies qualifies 5th in the dry, and finishes 6th in the wet, and is the fastest Suzuki by far, about 10 seconds ahead of the other boys in Rizla blue (one a wet weather specialist). But they have contracts and Ben doesn't, mostly because Ben wants too much money, and no-one want to put up with his pit-mommy. And there are no USA sponsors. And now that US roadracing has pulled a CART/IRL (you can tell because both sides deny that it is ANYTHING like the CART/IRL fiasco), what's a highly leveraged Texas boy to do?

But Nicky is the hero. Driving up from the OWB, to face his obligations with his long time employer after he gave his two-weeks notice. Just hoping they remember to unlock the garage. But Nicky knows the best revenge is putting the bike on the box in front of his hometown crowd, even if it means riding headfirst into a hurricane.

Labels: Indianapolis, MotoGP, Nicky Hayden

  ¶ 6:59 PM 0 Comments

  Bouncing Baby Boy Better boy to bounce than the bouncing baby? I think not.
  ¶ 10:22 PM 0 Comments

  WSBK Qatar - It Makes You Grow


A few comments on the WSBK races over the weekend. It was in Qatar. It was windy.

Were the Ducks sandbagging it? It was gentle sporting dominance, as they did let the Yamahas and one Suzuki at a time, play along.

I am really looking forward to the SuperSport race, whenever Speed decides to show it. Garry McCoy + Triumph = ...well, I don't know what, probably something with great promise that doesn't quite meet expectations. Wait..that's not it. =Excitement!!!! That's right! Go big, Garry!

Where was my favorite Turkish sporting hero? And why didn't I know that he had a funny mark on the "G" in his last name? I barely saw him. I mean, Ant West went from a couple races in SuperSport (where he thrashed our favorite Turk quite handily as I recall) to supreme glory in MotoGP, setting records for false starts and rain dances. So I expected Kenan to be dicing it up with the grown-ups. I'm sure he ran a very nice race, and if the leaders hadn't been so brilliant, I may have seen some of it. Helas.

Speaking of curds, a brief note for the commentary booth. When you have two racers, one a Roman and one a 6' Spaniard, duking it out mano a mano, and both are on bikes sponsored by Sterilgarda, a leading Italian milk concern, you've really got to come up with something better than "of the milk that would be spilled, one of these riders could cry...if it was sour." Next race try the following:
"Max is hard on the brakes, and takes the lead from Xaus, like Romulus grabbing the she-wolf teat from Remus and hosing him down with it."

Max & Ruben negotiate with their sponsor. The role of
the Flammini brothers represented by a woodpecker.

Or try this for inspiration.

It makes you grow.

Labels: garry mccoy, qatar, sandbagging, triumph, world superbike, WSBK

  ¶ 7:33 PM 0 Comments

  Me and My Boy The little dude uses his dry, wodehousian wit, and I make funny faces.
  ¶ 9:26 PM 0 Comments

  Young William, 6 pounds 7.9 oz One week ago, this little critter came into the world. He may be small, but he plays big. And, of course, he's the best baby in the world.
  ¶ 6:23 PM 2 Comments

  Valentino Rossi, Luciano Pavarotti In memoriam for LP.

(And probably in memoriam of Vale's MotoGP championship chances.)
  ¶ 4:52 PM 0 Comments