Show Me Your Ride!

[Streetcar]

Here's my last "interesting" ride.



Yes, I realize the kilt doesn't match well with the uniform, but at the time it was the only one I had...!

[Dreadbelly]

I wouldn't mind having one of the old shoebox volvos. I don't know the particular model, but they are older. Came in both a four door and a wagon, both had the same front ends and doors, but the wagon was, well, a wagon. Really boxy and square. A foster parent had one. I fell in love with it. Even though I am short, that car had so much leg room and head room. It was comfortable to ride in. He had a wagon model. Diesel. That car was unstoppable in the snow and ice around Steven's Pass and Icicle Creek in Washington state. I don't remember if it had four wheel drive or what, but even when the snow plows got bogged down and the big 4x4 trucks had problems, that car would sloooooooooowly but steadily make it through whatever ice and snow there was. That car never let us down. Never failed to start, never got stuck, never bogged down, never broke down, never failed. He drove all over the Pacific NW dealing with various boys, courts, family issues with the boys, custody hearings, all the typical foster stuff. When I was with him, the car had about half a million miles on it.

I know this sounds weird, but that was a really unstable and bad time in my life. Life was chaotic and dangerous. And bad. And there was something comforting and assuring about that car and how reliable it was. At that point in my life when so many people and things had let me down, that particular car and that particular foster parent was solid as a rock. I even told him how I felt on one long trip in to the big city for court, that being able to depend on something made a world of difference for me.

I wouldn't mind owning a Volvo just like that one. Maroon and white. I don't know the model number, but seeing all that ice and snow and those volvos brought back memories.

[Scott Gilmore]

OK ... then there's.....

Ah, yes, good ol' late 70s/early 80s big-bore BMWs. Had an R100-S myself, bought new. Steering head bearing like butter, charging system as sturdy as fine Venetian glass and a main seal like a cheap condom - just a careless half quart too much oil on fill up and she'd give way like a fy-dollah-ho (I'll tell you the story of Gila Bend And The Thanksgiving Day Puddle Of Oil some day over a beer, my friend). But oh, such fun to ride (when one gave in and rode with Teutonic acquiescence). Talk about love and hate.
.

[Kilted_John]

I wouldn't mind having one of the old shoebox volvos. I don't know the particular model, but they are older. Came in both a four door and a wagon, both had the same front ends and doors, but the wagon was, well, a wagon. Really boxy and square. A foster parent had one. I fell in love with it. Even though I am short, that car had so much leg room and head room. It was comfortable to ride in. He had a wagon model. Diesel. That car was unstoppable in the snow and ice around Steven's Pass and Icicle Creek in Washington state. I don't remember if it had four wheel drive or what, but even when the snow plows got bogged down and the big 4x4 trucks had problems, that car would sloooooooooowly but steadily make it through whatever ice and snow there was. That car never let us down. Never failed to start, never got stuck, never bogged down, never broke down, never failed. He drove all over the Pacific NW dealing with various boys, courts, family issues with the boys, custody hearings, all the typical foster stuff. When I was with him, the car had about half a million miles on it.

I know this sounds weird, but that was a really unstable and bad time in my life. Life was chaotic and dangerous. And bad. And there was something comforting and assuring about that car and how reliable it was. At that point in my life when so many people and things had let me down, that particular car and that particular foster parent was solid as a rock. I even told him how I felt on one long trip in to the big city for court, that being able to depend on something made a world of difference for me.

I wouldn't mind owning a Volvo just like that one. Maroon and white. I don't know the model number, but seeing all that ice and snow and those volvos brought back memories.

Dread,

The ones you're thinking of are the 700 series. Both 740 and 760. Mine is a 240 and is a bit less boxy. The older Volvos are all rear-wheel-drive, but, at least with the 240 series (and older models), get around quite nicely in the snow with just a set of four snow tires on it. Your foster parent's car was probably a 760 Turbodiesel wagon...

-J

[Dreadbelly]

Actually, I went looking at Volvo pictures and found it.

I don't know for sure what year, but I am guessing late 70s early 80s. I recognise that front end anywhere. Seeing it brought a huge rush of emotion.

The car was extra long and had rumble seats in the back that folded down in to the floor for extra storage space. You could seat 2 extra kids in the very back rumble seat, facing out the rear window. The hood, the roof, and the rear end was all maroon, the side panels were white. Round headlights with yellow headlamps on the outer edge. He had little wipers on his. I don't know if this was stock or a custom job... He did have the car customised a bit. Mostly comfort stuff for long distance travel. The glove box was a cooler. It'd keep a six pack of cokes cold. In the back there was an ice chest with a plug in the bottom for drainage. On long trips there was always cheddar cheese, the good kind, with the red wax rind on the edges, and lots of crunchy Washington apples. Packed away on ice so they were cold and crispy. There was a somewhat outdated 8 track player as well as a cassette deck. When we went on long trips and it was just us, it was always Johnny Cash on the 8 track player.

[Mr. Kilt]

Here's my last "interesting" ride.



Yes, I realize the kilt doesn't match well with the uniform, but at the time it was the only one I had...!

Now that's a great picture!!

[Eujeankilt]

Ah, yes, good ol' late 70s/early 80s big-bore BMWs. Had an R100-S myself, bought new. Steering head bearing like butter, charging system as sturdy as fine Venetian glass and a main seal like a cheap condom - just a careless half quart too much oil on fill up and she'd give way like a fy-dollah-ho (I'll tell you the story of Gila Bend And The Thanksgiving Day Puddle Of Oil some day over a beer, my friend). But oh, such fun to ride (when one gave in and rode with Teutonic acquiescence). Talk about love and hate.
.

Scott,

Next time I'm in Sandy Eggo, I'll buy you that beer. I'd love to hear that story and more.

Dale

[Fearnest]

Here's my last "interesting" ride.



Yes, I realize the kilt doesn't match well with the uniform, but at the time it was the only one I had...!

Ah, tis a thing of beauty! (Not sure I'd want to do a felony traffic stop kilted, but then I'm not as young as I once was...)

Great submission - thanks!

[Matthew J. Greene]

My primary vehicle is a 1995 Ford F150XL. It is two wheel drive with a 5.0 automatic. Surprisingly, I have owned it for almost seven years and have no pictures of it.

Here is my latest ride. A 2004 Honda Shadow Sabre 1100. I took this photo the day that I installed the backrest, cargo rack, and saddlebags with Easybracket quick release mounts.

[Wompet]

This is my ride. Right now I'm looking for a nice tartan saddle-blanket.

Seriously, I drive an '04 Toyota 4Runner. No pics though - they're still on the old computer.