AEROBUS CHAPTER 9 - Deja Vu I knew I wanted the parts car and the price was reasonable at five hundred dollars. My problem was one of transportation and storage, just like when I purchased my first one. I had to be able to justify to my wife why it was necessary to purchase a second Aerobus even more ugly than the first one. I knew that I would never be able to bring it home. It was a solid car that could be rebuilt but I had my hands full with the first one. If I had a place big enough to store it without expense I would hang on to it. There were a lot of very good body parts that I didn't need now but might in the future. The best I could do was find a place willing to let me strip it and then find a way to dispose of the leftovers. I hit upon the idea of selling the engine cheap in exchange for a place to do my work on it. I figured it would only require one weekend to take the parts off that I needed and surely the engine would be worth that much to someone. It was certainly worth it from a value standpoint but I had to find someone who needed an engine right then and who also had space for this vehicle and a willingness to allow me to strip it. A friend suggested a local mechanic. I didn't have a good feeling walking into his yard because, nearly every square foot on his property was occupied by a car or a boat in various stages of disassembly. I wondered how he made any money since he seemed to have little room for a customer's car. I didn't think he would have room for mine. After making my proposal to the owner he replied, "Naw', those 4-bolt Chevy engines are a dime a dozen, I don't need another. I was disappointed that I could not do my work at his place but also that my engine might not be worth what I wanted out of it. I thanked him and left in search of a friend who owned a hot rod. Perhaps he would know of someone who could help. I found him at work but he was not any more encouraging. He did give me a business card for Roseville Rod and Custom and told me to ask for Ben. He said that Ben was pretty well connected and might have some ideas. It took a number of calls to reach Ben at his shop. He said he could use an engine for a project he was building for a customer. He agreed to let me tow the Aerobus to his shop and strip what I needed off of it. "I want five hundred for the engine," I said, hopefully. "That should be no problem if it's as good as you say," replied Ben. "Can I see the engine first?" "Sure, it's down behind a nightclub called In-Cahoots, across from the mall." "All right, give me a day and I'll let you know." It was a difficult wait for me but Ben was prompt about calling me back. "The owner will pay four hundred for your engine," Ben reported. I quickly concluded that I would accept the offer. I probably would have taken any offer. Given my purchase price, and selling the engine for four hundred dollars, I was getting everything I needed off the car, and a place to do the work, for just one hundred dollars. "All right, I'll take that. You're sure you don't mind me using your yard to do my stripping?" "Yeah, that's fine, how long will it take you?" "I'd say about two weeks once I get it over there," I said, adding a cushion over how much time I really thought it would take me. "Okay, no problem." I called Joe Pollard, the California Checker Club president and owner of more Checker parts than anyone else on the west coast. I was sure he could use the shell of this parts car once I took what I wanted out of it. I wasn't going to take any doors or fenders off of it and I knew he could sell them to customers. Rust-free California parts were in demand. Joe told me he already had too many cars but he referred me to a guy named Marshall who lived in Berkeley. That sounded more practical too since Berkeley was only 100 miles from me while Joe was 600 miles away. I called Marshall and immediately knew I was dealing with a real character. From his gravelly voice and east-coast accent to his nonchalant way of talking to me, as if he had known me all his life. I explained that I wanted to sell the carcass after I had taken what I needed and that I only had a limited amount of time to do it all. He had a lot of questions about what would be left and the condition of various parts and assemblies. "What about the brakes?" was his first question. Obviously he had the same problems I experienced trying to find Aerobus brake parts. "I don't know about the brakes because I have not taken a drum off yet," I replied, "But I don't intend to either. You'll get whatever it has on it." "And you'll take one hundred for it?" "Yeah, it's probably worth a lot more than that just for scrap but I'll let it go and I'll even give you the title." I could tell by the increased animation in his voice that he liked the idea of getting the title. That would open other options for him in the future. "Okay, I'll have to figure a way to come and get it. Checkers don't fit on a tow dolly." "You've only got two weeks until the place I have it stored wants it out," I cautioned. "All right, I'll be there," Marshall assured me. I hadn't paid much attention to Marshall's comment about Checkers not fitting on tow dollies but my research that week confirmed it. All the major rental places told me that their dollies were too narrow for a Checker. I learned much later that a Checker will fit on a tow dolly but the rental places don't want the liability. They said their car trailers were wide enough but could not accommodate the length of an Aerobus. The only guy I could find to custom make me a dolly wanted too much money for it. I was getting a little concerned now. How was I going to move the hulk to Ben's shop? I finally decided that I would have to use a chain method much like I had used to get my first Aerobus moved but with the addition of a pipe to make it safer. A chain strung through a length of strong pipe prevents the towed vehicle from striking the towing vehicle. The two vehicles can never approach closer than the length of the pipe. It's not considered a safe or legal way of towing a vehicle but it was the only option I felt I had left. I worried this time because I had to tow the vehicle nearly all the way across Sacramento. I was certain to encounter patrol cars along the way. I studied a detailed map of Sacramento and tried to calculate the best route from In-Cahoots to Roseville Rod and Custom that would utilize only back roads and minimize my exposure and number of stops along the way. With a route selected I went out and traced it in my truck. The route was easy and level with only about a half-dozen traffic lights and only a mile or so of exposure on a major thoroughfare. I decided to make the trip early on a Sunday morning to further reduce my exposure to police and traffic. I called Ron, my co-worker and assistant from the Aerobus Trunk-or-Treat episode. "Can you help me tow a car Sunday morning?" I asked him. "Sure, no problem," Ron agreed with his normal upbeat attitude. "About five A.M.?" I ventured. I could hear the enthusiasm drop from his voice, "Sure, why not?" "Well I have to do this early while there are fewer cops on the roads." "Okay, I'm with you," came his reply with a little more lift in his voice. I think the prospect of some danger intrigued him. He never asked any questions about what I was doing. The Saturday prior I went to In-Cahoots and inflated all the tires on the car. They held air as well as the tires did on my car, that first day after ten years of dormancy, so I was encouraged. I pushed the car a little and it rolled easily so I felt the brakes weren't rusted solid. I was beginning to think this just might work. I stopped at a lumberyard on the way home and bought a piece of pipe for my tow chain. Since there would be no easy way to make the taillights on the car work I bought a flashing emergency light with a magnetic bottom that I could stick on the back roof of the car to warn anyone approaching from the rear. I called Beth many times that day because I had not had a chance to pay her and get the title. I never did reach her but I figured she trusted me enough to take the vehicle. She knew how to reach me if she noticed the car missing. At five o'clock Sunday morning I was outside Ron's house. I saw a light on in a bathroom window so I figured he was up. I did not want to ring his doorbell and wake his family so I just waited for him to come out. I waited as 45 excruciating minutes ticked off. I kept figuring that every elapsed minute increased our risk of exposure on the road with our illegal towing contraption Finally Ron came out. I appreciated his help this early on a Sunday but I was very impatient. With him on board I roared down to In-Cahoots and got backed up to the Aerobus to hook up the chain. Only then did I notice that all four tires were flat! In the course of one day they had all lost their air. I was beside myself. I let out a long string of expletives. All my careful, criminally-minded planning was dashed by four incredibly uncooperative pieces of feces! I was ready to quit. There was no point trying to pull this off today I thought. If the tires lost all their air just sitting overnight then certainly they would not last while being towed down the road. I looked at Ron who was sympathetic but not fully understanding why I was so angry. I couldn't come up with any words that made sense to me, much less explain my frustration to him. I brought all my mental strength together to calm myself down. I took out the tire compressor and connected it to one of the flat tires. After about five minutes the first tire was full of air. There were no hissing sounds to indicate that it was losing air again so I continued around the car. I lost another 20 minutes but finally the tires were all round again. I questioned how long they would hold once we started rolling the car on them. I was not optimistic they would hold up for the ten miles or so to Roseville Rod and Custom. I gave Ron a quick lesson in vehicle towing and handed him a set of coveralls to protect him from an extremely filthy car interior. I hooked up the chain and pipe tow-bar contraption and hopped into my truck. I started slowly away. The Aerobus followed effortlessly. Ron tried the brakes and they worked a little bit. We exited the parking lot and pulled out onto the street. No cars in sight despite all the delays getting started. It was a short distance to the light at the first corner. Ron was stepping on the brakes slowing us both down as we approached the red light. Before we came to a full stop the light turned green so I proceeded to accelerate slowly and take the slack out of the chain. I felt the sudden slam and then increased my speed a little to keep the chain tight as I turned through that first light. Everything was working great and the Aerobus was tracking nicely. Best of all, here it was at 6:30 Sunday morning on one of the busiest streets in Sacramento, the capital of California, and there was not a car in sight We drove the mile or so through four more traffic lights, each one green as we approached, until we reached the relative safety of a normally less-traveled road. This was Roseville Road and, as the name implied, would take us six miles in the direction of Roseville Rod and Custom before encountering our next turn. We had only to cross one major thoroughfare along the way. Most of the dozen or so lights went green in our favor and there was little stopping. Ron seemed to be having a blast back there watching the few cars that passed us gawk as they went by. Towards the end of Roseville Road I pulled over to give Ron a break. He was giggling slightly and exclaimed as I approached, "This thing is huge!" "Is it being cooperative for you?" "Yeah but it steers kind of hard." "That's because it's power steering and the engine's not running." "You gotta' write a book about this," Ron continued, ignoring the technical explanation. "Yeah, perhaps I will some day," I answered, "and I'll make sure you're in it." I jumped back into my truck and got the slow, herky-jerky start going until we both began moving in tandem. The remaining four miles to Roseville were largely uneventful. Once I spotted a cop way ahead of us on the road and had a few anxious moments but he turned off and headed away from us at a right angle. It took us almost a half hour to go the ten miles or so and I felt a real sense of relief to pull into the parking lot across the street from Roseville Rod and Custom. I felt like we had pulled off a crime. I suppose that, technically speaking we had, having illegally towed a vehicle that way. Ben had told me he would be in the shop later that day. I positioned the Aerobus on a slope headed toward the locked gate so that when Ben opened it the car could be coasted by gravity into his compound. I chocked one tire with a rock and left it. We packed up the tow bar and I drove Ron home while we talked about what I had to do next. "I've only got two weeks to strip what I need off of it." I told Ron. "Ben is going to buy the engine for four hundred dollars." "You should keep the whole thing and restore it." "I can't do that. One's trouble enough. Once I take the parts I need this one will only be a shell." "I wish I had your skill," Ron said. "I'd buy the rest from you and do it myself." "Geeze just the fourteen pieces of glass alone on that thing would cost you thousands to replace, if you could find them at all." I thanked him profusely for helping me and apologized for being so stressed over the delays. I offered to take him to breakfast. He declined but urged me again to write a book about my entire Aerobus experience, including this day. So here you go Ron, thanks again. Beth called me later that day wanting to know if I had taken the car. "I was really worried when I came in today and the car was gone." "I tried calling you but never caught you in. I'll come over now and pay for it." "Okay, I've got the title." "Have you found the bumpers?" "No but I'll look around here before you arrive." By the time I got there Beth had located one of the bumpers. I gave her five hundred dollars and she gave me the title. She also had another form for me to fill out that she had to send to the DMV releasing the owner of the car from the DMV records. I explained that I would not own the car very long and asked her to wait two weeks to hear from me so I could get Marshall's name and address put on the record as the new owner. "If I fail to get back to you just put my name and address on it, but I'm pretty sure Marshall will come get it." "No problem," Beth replied. "Just call me back." I picked up the one bumper that Beth had found. It was all wrapped in brown paper so I could not see the condition of it. As I was walking out with it Beth said she knew the other one was around somewhere and she would call me when she found it. Outside at my truck I tore the paper off of one end and was greeted by my own reflection in bright, shiny chrome. Was this a mistake? There was no way these bumpers came off that crummy car I had towed away that morning. I tore the rest of the paper off and saw that it was indeed a Checker bumper and it looked like it had just come off the assembly line. It was perfect. I turned the bumper over and could see that the back had not been polished and that what I had was a freshly re-chromed bumper that had never been reinstalled on the car. It was very well done and was probably worth what I paid for the car. I wanted to rush back in the club and ask Beth to look for the other one. I decided to play it cool and just get out of there with my prize and check with her later. |
