By the time ya’ll read this we should be just starting our spring truck season, the first for me and my ’68 C10. And that’s something that I’m pretty excited about because it’ll be my first legitimate car show season with a vehicle that actually reflects the title that I’m tied to. “What,” you say, “the editor of a truck magazine with a truck?!” That should come as a surprise right? Well, actually it’s more uncommon than you think. You see, us magazine guys have a tendency to start these long-winded projects that rarely see the light of day, let alone completion. And nine times outta ten, when they are finished, they’re sold off quicker than you can say “credit card debt.”
Now I don’t really consider my ’68 to be an actual “build” in the truest sense of the word. Nor do I consider it to be finished. And I doubt I ever will. No, I like to think of it as a perpetual project, constantly being tinkered with and improved upon. A test bed of sorts.
But at this point, I’m excited because it’s “together” and fires up and drives. That’s more than can be said about a number of projects floating around the offices here. Or even in my own garage for that matter! And it does so in a mighty fine fashion I might add.
That said, it’s obvious that the next step would be to tear it all apart to drop some dreamy motor in it like an LS and, what the heck, maybe paint it while we’re at it, right?! See, this is how these projects end up on the back burner for years! I’m trying really hard to stop where we’re at on the C10, at least for the time being, and enjoy the summer before tearing into it again. But I know that probably won’t happen. It’s just too much fun to mess around with a good thing. You start tweaking this and changing that and pretty soon you’ve got the seat out, the carpet laying on the garage floor and half the wiring harness pulled out of the dash. Weren’t you just going to vacuum it out and replace a burned out fuse?
It also comes down to keeping our project truck a true-blue truck. You know the kind where you haul stuff in the back. And no, lawn chairs and an ice chest don’t qualify as ‘stuff’! I’m talking lumber, steel, the occasional engine, maybe some sod for the house. Ya can’t haul that stuff in the wife’s Honda. And when you call your buddy asking to borrow his truck, I guarantee you that the first thing out of his mouth is, “what’s wrong with yours?”. Now, “it’s too low” or “I don’t want to scratch the paint” are honest answers that really have some basis in truth, but you’ll never hear the end of it.
Sure it looks good, but if you can’t use your truck because it’s too nice or it’s too low, it just becomes useless in my eyes. Sure we all want our trucks to look nice, but there’s just something about a classic truck that looks just good enough, yet serves a purpose as well. Like that old, well worn pair of boots your wife keeps insisting you throw out. And well I guess there’s a bit of irony there since they both end up hiding out in the garage anyways. Your old truck and boots that is …
CCT