"If ya ever git tired of that ol' pickup, be sure to let me know." That's somethin' I'd been meanin' to say to my neighbor/buddy Darrel. Even though I never got around to sayin' it, I did indeed become the ol' truck's second owner. Buying it from Darrel's widow, however, made it hard to be happy about the acquisition.

For the last several years, this 1971 GMC ½-ton was used primarily for hay runs, to and from the corner feed store. With the stock 350 and granny four-speed still in service, she's a little weathered, but honest as can be in original dark 'n' medium olive metallic.

Darrel cared for this ol' truck, as the glovebox contents attest: owner's manual, authorized dealer Protect-O-Plate, maintenance records, and a pad 'n' pencil for recording all he'd done. This is the kind of find that just about any of us would appreciate.

However, we already had our pickup, so I offered this one to my son-in-law who gladly accepted the gift. That's when my dad got involved. Really, I thought the ol' truck ran fine, but dad didn't think so, and as one thing led to another, a complete overhaul and thorough onceover twice of all mechanicals was performed. And now dad insists that Mrs. Rotten and I fix the rusty areas that we'd previously intended to ignore. Considerin' all that dad's done for the cause, how can we not?