The last several years have evolved through those life challenges and events that most of us eventually face: the deaths of our parents. There have been many associated challenges, which I won’t get into here. This morning marked a nostalgic event…the sale of my Dad’s car. He has been gone 18 years so I guess it was about time. While my mom was alive it seemed unthinkable to sell the car. It sat unused in the garage for all those years, surrounded by the intake of a hoarder and cocooned beneath the stuff.

The car eventually had to be either retained by family (and by someone with the wherewithal to fix it up) or sold. This morning it was loaded up on a trailer and taken away by a very happy man into vehicle restorations.

The Camping~Fishing Rig

Originally, my dad drove a 1949 Buick Roadmaster. I learned to drive in that Buick Roadmaster. But, at some point my dad must have mentioned something about a new car. In discussing this with a neighbor boy, he dropped by our house with an article about Chevrolet releasing a new engine, a 396 cu. in/325 hp engine. I am pretty sure that meant nothing much to my dad, and certainly nothing to me, but the neighbor friend kept bringing up the engine. Next thing I new the family and neighbor boy were all in the Roadmaster and headed to Lyman Slack Chevrolet. And, suddenly my dad was buying a 1965 Chevrolet Impala Station Wagon with the 396 cu. in. Thus was acquired the camping rig.

The seeming prestigious flags and that engine. Over the years, my dad had those in the know offer to buy the car for the engine alone.

As if a plan had been formulated, the Henning’s Fishing Guide was produced along with a map. Suddenly, Lenny and I were suggesting fishing destinations. Remember, Lenny was my source of flies, well one fly, the Tied Down Caddis, which he tied for a local department store. So, we wanted to go to places the Henning’s Fishing Guide said were fishable. Thus began the earnest exploration of the outdoors and fly fishing. I was maybe 17 and this car was a joy to drive. My dad loaded up this rig with heavy tarps, rope, canvas tents, cast iron utensils and enough canned goods to feed Dufur, Oregon. The car was good looking and comfortable. It was well taken care of for quite a few years, but then once I was gone and my dad retired, he took on a new job of building maintenance. Suddenly, paint cans, ladders, tools and wiring filled the car and this resulted in damage over time. 

None the less, as the car was loaded up today, I was very nostalgic. Another passage in life. Thank you Dad for going along with our plans. And, thank you mom for camping when I am sure you would have run into less bats, snakes and mosquitos in a motel.