#rivierags

$95.  Oof.  I’m going to just leave that there for a moment…

She’s worth it.

After the gas binge and dollar purge, I drive Sacrebleu over to the parking lot adjacent to the Drive-In.  This is where the actual show will take place, and aside from the DJ already there setting up, I’m first, the first to show up for the show.  It’s probably 6:30am, I park next to a walkway.  After a few minutes thought, I move my car to another spot, backing in, close up on a curb, a ding prevention technique offering maximum space to the passenger side.  I sit in the car for a few minutes, reading before getting out to give Sacrebleu one last wipe down.  Pulling a microfiber towel from the trunk, I give the wheels a bit more attention, then clean the glass, inside and out, along with dusting the dash.  There’s nothing to be done about the little bit of fir needles and such in the footwells, so I leave it be.  Pulling the manuals from the glove box, I arrange them on the passenger seat, for show attendees’ viewing pleasure.  

Preparations complete, it’s 7am, before long another car shows up.  It’s a ‘65 Pontiac GTO, also blue.  I find out later that the owner is a true built-not-bought bucks down guy, he describes how he built a fuel injection setup for it using a Megasquirt controller, selling off the Tri-Power setup it came with to fund it.  He also installed a 5 speed manual transmission.  I come away from the conversation impressed, these are the kinds of people whose understated creativity always astounds me.  A little while later, a gnarly 3rd Gen Firebird Trans Am shows up, parks, and immediately begins puking coolant.  Oh, that girl got HOT.  It’s an Indy Anniversary Edition Pace car, very personalized with side pipes, and such.  The owner pops the hood, and I spot the leak coming from the water outlet at the block.  It’s not the worst, but it’s not great.  The owner of that Firebird is a Character, with a capital C.  He’s fun to talk with, after taking a few minutes to admire his car and commiserate about the car’s cooling woes, I wander off.  

The show was posted online as starting at 8am, but doesn’t start until 9am.  More people arrive, and around 9am, registration begins.  We all casually wander over to the registration table set up, keeping at least 6 feet between us.  I can’t tell you if the distance was because of the ‘Rona or the Seattle Chill, 50/50, pick ‘em.  $20 later, I have a goodie bag with a coupon for $5 off at XXX, a voting slip for the three Marques holding the show, and my first (!) dash plaque!  Wow.  This is SO cool.  I’M IN A SHOW!  

A later arrival catches my attention, so I follow the car to where the owner decides to park it.  Helping guide him into the spot, I ask him about the car.  It’s a 1977 Oldsmobile Cutlass Brougham, with 61,000 miles on it.  That works out to about…1500 miles per year.  Wow.  What attracted me to the car was it is the last of the A-Body platform cars, before GM switched to the G-Body in 1978.  It represented the end of an era, and the 1973-1977 cars, which have gone for so long without much love or appreciation, are finally starting to get some.  Malaise era cars are maligned by a lot of enthusiasts, as the Domestic Car Manufacturers struggled to comply with Federal Emissions Requirements, resulting in cars that were way down on power and performance.  It’s good to see a preserved survivor of the era being shown.  

More cars roll in, a lot of Firebirds, turns out the local Firebird club wanted to really represent.  There was a magnificent 1979 Firebird, a survivor with immaculate paint, fully loaded, sitting on the iconic Snowflake Wheels.  So good, with a 403 Olds in it.  I take multiple laps of the parking lot, chatting with other owners, taking time to stand near my own car, soaking in the appreciation.  

A 1972 Olds 442 W-30 car showed up early, and the paint color was GORGEOUS.  See for yourself!

I also came across this magnificent boat, a 1963 Pontiac Bonneville.  It was a 4 speed car, and had either a Tri-Power, or a dual quad carburetor setup on it.  The air cleaner was ENORMOUS.  No photos of the air cleaner, but see the car here…

My favorite Pontiac of the show was a 1970 Firebird, a survivor that looked like it had been daily driven for most of the 51 years it has lived.  The car was rough, and battle scarred, but that was part of the appeal. Under the scuffs and dings and flawed paint and poor repairs, still a car with beautiful lines.  That twin snorkel hood, genuine ram air!

Finally, the votes were tallied, and awards announced.  Sacrebleu didn’t win.  A 1956 Roadmaster that had been given as a birthday gift 42 years earlier, in 1979 and then lovingly restored, won best Buick.  That’s okay, a trophy would have been nice, it was a great experience regardless.  Oh!  I did win a raffle, for a free Triple X Burger!

Feeling frisky last weekend, I turned left onto the main road under acceleration. Harder than usual, kind of pushing Sacrebleu.  For funsies, you know?  Well, I suppose it would help to understand.  I’m turning onto a 6% incline from a slight incline.  After getting onto the main road, she was pulling HARD to the right.  Tf?  I thought I took care of the steering woes already!  *eyes narrow* Ok, some quick driving diagnosis, it pulls at any speed, under acceleration or deceleration, or at steady speed.  Hm.  I pull into the shopping center about 2 miles up the road, get out and walk around the car.  Oh.  Damn.  Ze passenger front tire, she ees flat.  *sigh* Brought that on myself, didn’t I?  My guess is that the hard cornering loads pulled the tire off the wheel bead and let the air out.  I’m in a parking lot, with a flat tire, no nearby service station, and the tire rubber is pretty toasty warm, like it would get from say, driving on a flat tire?  There’s an auto parts store in the shopping center, I buy their cheapest 12V powered tire inflator and return to Sacrebleu.  The booster pack is still handy, I grab that, and settle on the ground in front of the tire.  Pull the inflator from the box, it’s pretty small and chintzy, but if it works once, that’s all I need from it.  The inflator is designed to be plugged into a 12V power outlet, the booster pack doesn’t have a 12V power outlet, it has big honkin’ clamps to attach to battery terminals.  Attaching the tire inflator to the tire, I notice these tires were built in 2005.  They’re 16 years old!  Cripes, that’s way-y too old for the driving I’ve been doing, especially the “spirited” driving I’ve been doing.  Oops.  Damn. (again). Taking a moment to think, I attach the negative battery clamp to the metal terminals on the barrel of the inflator’s power plug, the positive is attached to the tip end.  Turning the booster pack on, I activate the “ALL THE POWER” mode, turning it into a indiscriminate power supply.  Flipping the rocker switch on the inflator, it makes small air compressor noises.  I monitor the pressure gage, with no small relief watch the needle on the gage begin to move.  The tire begins to hold air, I’ve once again dodged another self-inflicted cartastrophe. (Yes, I spelled it that way on purpose, seemed more appropriate.)