|
The Old Gray Mare, she ain't what she used to be, Did you have a go-kart when you were a kid? The disease starts early. Initially, bicycles can provide a small taste of adrenaline, when you pedal fiercely down a hill or do jumps off a makeshift ramp. Over time, you gain some experience, and through acquisition of scars you learn the limits of your machine. Go karts are a big step up. With this type of machine, your thrills do not come at the expense of exhaustion. True, you get a lot of exercise repairing it for a month or so for each hour of enjoyment. But the repair work starts to have its own appeal, and the little 3.5 horsepower motor gives a taste of the type of commingled joy and terror a throttle can unleash. Adolescence brings the ultimate taste of internal combustion induced adrenaline rush. Unsupervised teen-agers somehow persuade society to grant them a license to abuse motorized vehicles and disregard public safety. Some believe that lack of horsepower limits the potential for destruction. Ha! As I and my 1.6 liter 1982 Ford Escort proved, horsepower is helpful, but nonessential. All that is truly required is that youthful sense of immortality. You stare a meaningless death in the face, and laugh maniacally as you once again offer to squander God's gift of life in exchange for the acknowledgment of passengers or onlookers that you really did fill them with terror. If you, like me, survived that phase, you have assuredly since been fitted with a snug yoke and tethered to a portion of life's burdens. A brief stint in the United States Marine Corps, marriage, and two children have certainly tamed my self-destructive excesses. But, despite these encumbrances, in the deepest recesses of your mind, that mischievous boy whispers that relentless yearning for throttle related katharsis. So, you buy a Sport Utility Vehicle (SUV). Well, anyway, that's what I did. I didn't really do it, at least not consciously, to acquire an adult go kart. I did it to protect my wife and kids from teen agers in large trucks. I remember how I drove that Escort. While in Houston, Texas, I didn't want 5,000 pounds of poorly driven steel intersecting my family's path with them defended by an '89 Celebrity's light structure (crumple zones notwithstanding). We could have shopped for a used van, or a decent sized station wagon. But that mischievous boy kept whispering, and I found myself taking my wife out to test drive used Ramchargers. On our first real day of looking, after driving one pretty scary truck in need of a lot of work, we found a gray 1983 Royal SE in excellent condition. Within 72 hours, The Old Gray Mare was in our driveway, all 300,000 miles of her. We were also over $2,000 poorer.  Well, she ain't what she used to be, but she's still plenty. We've already been through a lot together. Two alternators, a power steering pump, steering gear, and shaft, four new tires, a new carb and manifold, aftermarket seats, a windshield, and lots and lots of little things here and there. Fortunately, things broke slowly over time, so in each case I could find the money to make the repair. And in each case, I've made her better than she was. What's next? Well, right now, she has to share me and our financial resources with a new home and a lot of other priorities. But, on the slate are:
This page was last modified on 4 Jan 98 Return to the Off-road.com Dodge
Page Return to the Off-road.com Dodge Ramcharger Page |
 |
Off-Road.com Newsletter Join our Weekly Newsletter to get the latest off-road news, reviews, events, and alerts! |
Follow @Off-Road
Your Privacy Choices