So one day in March, a buddy had a tip about some VWs in a pasture that needed "saving" and he thought I was just the man to do it. So in spite of temperatures in the mid 20's and a glaring lack of common sense, I drove two hours into the wild. Once there, I met with the property owner who was a super cool guy. He had a couple Isettas, some pretty interesting aircraft and an extensive hovercraft collection. Yes, hovercrafts. He was selling cars off to get more hovercrafts, and while I don't understand the fascination, I can appreciate the like of something random to tinker on. I liked him immediately. He was incredibly proud of this, and I told him quite frankly and in no uncertain terms how very much I WOULD NOT go up in that. He laughed. I didn't. From his shop I walked out back into the field to take a gander at the Volkswagens. To get there, you first have to walk past some oddities (of which none are for sale): Which got me to the back, back where the VWs were kept. He had a pretty decentish blue '68 that I wanted immediately, but to get it I had to agree to take some other bastard VW children. Their story however is a tale for another thread. While "negotiations" were hot and heavy, I countered by saying that I would meet his price "only if you throw in this Plymouth behind me". Now to be fair, I hadn't even looked at that Plymouth, didn't know what it was, or if I really wanted it. I just thought we needed more for the loot he wanted and thought I could make a buck or two on it. So when he said we "might could work something out on that", I was then forced to look at the Plymouth and see exactly what my foot, en route to my mouth, had possibly just purchased. Turning around, I instantly liked it. For one, it looked super clean. Its a boxy little two door, and has a neat look. I like boxy little cars, and I can't afford a Nova, so why not? For two, as my hovercraft loving host began to tell me about the Plymouth, my want for it grew. He shared how it was a one owner car, purchased new by his Aunt in 1966, and powered by the "tower of power", slant6. The Aunt, Alene, drove it from 1966 until 1998 when she died. At that point, the faithful little Plymouth was relegated to a series of temporary resting spots (but never title transferred) before ultimately landing in the pasture with what is alleged to be a bent push rod. Adding insult to injury, the passenger rocker was damaged badly when being unceremoniously dumped in its vegetative resting ground. And there it sat, waiting. As the years went by, the tires went flat, then split, sinking its neat little 13" wheels into the mud where they began to rot. From there, Kingdom Animalia Order Rodentia moved in, and in short order. And there it sat some more. Through two decades of rain and neglect, culminating in this 25 degree day, and this star struck moron. So I bought it. (and the VWs, but thats a different tale) As the daylight failed me, I made arrangements to return for it on a day there was not 8" of standing water in the pasture. It would be nearly ten days before the rain would stop and I could get permission from him to return for it. I was at work when my phone chirped, and I looked down. "HEY I THINK WE CAN GET A CAR OR TWO OUT TODAY, CAN YOU COME UP?" Excuses were given to my boss, vacation hours taken, trailers obtained, work clothes donned, and away I went.