A particular blazing hot summer day was surely one to remember, as it was the one where my dad and I were finally applying the finishing touches to our 1962 Chevy Impala. Beads of sweat trickled down my steaming face as I cranked down a countless number of bolts into the classic automobile for what seemed like all day. As I fastened the final piece of hardware to the newly painted frame I let out a sigh of relief. My dad walked several laps around the car, inspecting every fine detail, to make sure nothing was missing. The moment had ultimately come where he commanded me to climb into the car, insert the key, and crank the engine over. With a little bit of stuttering from the engine, and a couple pumps of the gas, the stallion roared as it burst into life. Plumes of rich exhaust billowed out of the (thankfully) open garage door, the machine purring like a well nourished feline. The only way to describe my emotion was like a puppy after its owner gives it a new toy, all I wanted to do was play with it. Adrenaline rushed through me as the cold leather seat stuck to my perspired back, and at that instant, I knew all the gruelling work had been well worth it. …show more content…
It was my great-grandfathers and meant a lot to my family. For the seventeen years we’ve had the car and thirteen of those have been spent collecting dust under a ripped tarp in my garage. It was only the summer after my seventh grade year I suggested to my dad that we start to fix it up. For three summers we worked on it day in and day out, and the result was (what I think) the most gorgeous car in the city. I’ve been driving it in the warmer months since the day we completed it. Every time I fire it up the nostalgia and excitement of the first time starting it comes rushing back to
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The most outstanding moment of my life so far is when i got my first car.It was a cool March morning in Pensacola Florida.I had my drivers test at eight thirty in the morning at the DMV on W street.As i got to the DMV ,we checked in for my appointment we had made.Soon the instructor came out and told me it was my turn.As nervous but as ready as i could be,i followed him out to my car.After he checked to make sure all safety requirement were checked,i began my test.All i could remember was what my parents had told me.¨If you pass your drivers test you will get a car.¨.When i finished my test,i had only missed 9 points.So i went back into the DMV and took my picture for my license.On my way back home my mom said ¨we have something for you.¨.As
During our first run Taylor and I noticed that the car was turning way to the left. So in order to fix this we started our car as far to the right of the track as possible. After our first trials we realized that we needed to fix our string. We needed to cut the string we had attached off of our car and make a new one. When we made a new one me made it a little bit longer than the car and only hot glued it to the hook, not to the frame. Our new string had a loop in the end of it so we could put that on the toothpick. So now we understood that the toothpick did have a real purpose and we couldn’t glue the string to the mousetrap. After we made these changes we ran our car three more times.
Then last year I started to fix on my new mower and got it running and installed a new engine and everything. And I use this as a working mower. And then my neighbor got a new old truck and asked me to work on it with him and I got a good learning experience from it. And then my dad’s classic car broke down
As a young teenager, my love for cars and trucks grew strong. It seamed like every few months my father had a new car but didn’t understand why we couldn’t keep them all. At the time, my dad worked at an auto body shop, he took unrecognizable wreaked cars and repaired them to like new condition. In order to make extra income for the family, my father and I worked on his side projects every weekend. I was amazed with the inner mechanics of the numerous vehicles we worked on over the years. It always astonished me every time we recycled a distorted shell of a car and reassembled it into a shiny refurbished vehicle. Those long weekends, my dad not only taught me how to repair vehicles, but he also imbued in me that
Gravel crunched beneath the tires of my father’s ’95 Chevy Silverado, the same way it had every time we drove up the steep, tortuous path to my grandmother’s home on Christmas Eve. There she was waving excitedly, dressed in her floral nightgown and fuzzy slippers as the snow floated downward around her. She corralled us inside away from the cold. Like I was as light as the snowflakes just beyond the door, she lifted me up into her arms. I laid my head against her chest as she guided my father and me into the living room adorned with wreaths and candles. I closed my eyes and inhaled the aroma of peppermint and freshly baked cookies as my grandmother held me tight. Lights from the glistening tree illuminated the room in red and green.
One spring day, the wind came up, which knocked over some of the signs that said, “Construction ahead, 2 miles.” Clayton Lemmel, a trucker who was from out of state, had brought along his twelve year old daughter, Robyn, for a quick trip to Kansas and back home to Nebraska. Robyn had grown up driving, especially heavy equipment such as a semi, and anything that was attached to it. On that note, occasionally, when Clayton needed to get a little bit of rest from driving, Robyn would take over the truck for awhile
My grandpa got the deal of a lifetime on his truck. He only payed $ 800 it doesn't have a motor in it. My grandpa, my uncle Jack, and I worked on the truck
The Beginning - When I was sixteen years I did not expect a car from my parents. Both my parents never got a car from their parents. I expected to have me drive the minivan until Mom didn’t want it anymore and it’d become mine. And it was mine, for a while. I hated every minute of it. I worked two jobs during that year of high school to get my own car; one as a lifeguard and the other with a landscaping company. I saved my money until had a couple thousand dollars in my bank account. I started looking online for a set of wheels that didn’t have giant sliding doors on the side.
Until i was more than seventy percent of the way there my mom,sean and my grandpa started talking about it and decided that we should go fix it and i would learn learn new skills skills working at my grandpa’s auto body shop.After a few weekends
I was 15 and had just bought my car in July with my own money. A 1993 Mustang. I had been saving up since I was 8. I didn’t have a lot of money so the car wasn’t exactly street legal. Don’t worry it wasn’t stolen. It was only missing the entire front half of it. It was December now and I still hadn’t driven it. Nothing had changed. It was still the same glossy black car with the missing front pieces exposing its rustic and bare metal frame. I wanted to drive it, I did, but deep down a part of me kept telling myself that I would never be able to drive the manual gearbox. Sure, I had watched videos of how to do it, but whenever I would take the cover off the car and sit down in it my mind would be overrun with other thoughts of anxiety. So instead
Some people love their first cars, their first new cars, or their collector cars. I happen to have a special place in my heart for my current car. I drive a Toyota Solara SLE V6 and I absolutely love it because it is me. My car is a color known as Oceanus Blue on stone grey and has a great set of options. I have satellite radio, a six disc CD player along with a sun roof and yes the customary air conditioning and heater. My car also has heated leather seats and lovely wood grain touches on the interior. The fact that it is a coupe gives it appealing lines and a sporty feel. Enough about the specs of the vehicle and let me talk a little about the sentimental value. The car also has a great on board trip computer that provides information on average miles per gallon of gas as well as average miles driven per trip. My car's sleek design is perfect as far as safety goes. I was rear ended once and with the exception of the bumper the car was in perfect condition. The airbags deployed as expected and I was safe that time. The car has also never left me stranded which is more than I can say for a previous car that I had. My car represents a compliment to my style as a person. I like cars that are fast, have a nice sleek look and provide a good service. My car gives me that service and that look that I crave and enjoy. The car does have a V6 engine which makes it a bit hard on gas but not as hard as other cars. I love the car because even after 5 years it still looks impressive on the road and it still works impressively. Whenever I take out I am amazed at how well the engine responds as if it were new. Part of what makes this car my favorite is the road trips. I take my care on extended trips to places like Tampa, St. Augustine, and Ft. Lauderdale. I love the handling because the steering wheel is soft and smooth. One particular road trip that makes this car my
Desperate times call for desperate measures. In high school I moved out of city limits to discover that there was no bus stops near by and found myself needing a car as soon as possible to get to school. All I had was 500 dollars and about a week until the semester started. I should’ve felt apprehensive about only having 500 for a car but thoughts of being self-reliant and unchained blinded me to the reality of the quality of vehicle I’d be purchasing. After only a few days of searching we found something in that price range; a 1994 Ford Escort hatchback with 190 thousand miles. The man that sold it to us had to tow it to the house with his truck because it had been sitting in the driveway so long the battery drained and had a few other maintenance issues to take care of. So when I saw the car for
Approaching, gliding my hand over the warm hood of the engine, feeling the texture of the minutely grainy forest green paint against my fingers tip, thinking “Hello my friend “. Stepping back, admiring the impeccable hand-crafted machine with tinted windows that are almost as dark as the midnight sky, with 15-inch tires and black stretch free rims. Clicking that rubber button to unlock the dent free door, it greets me with a loud honking two beeps. Climbing into the soft black leather driver’s seat, I am washed into that familiar feeling- a warm hug from an old friend. I began to tingle with excitement and the anticipation of what new adventures could await. Being inside feels like being in a different world. My imagination starts to wonder
is because this year something happen in my life that left me with many insecurities and doubts. As I sat in a bookstore feeling vulnerable and helpless, I came upon an idea that changed everything for me. The reason this project is very important to me is because it helps me feel connected to someone I really care about that I can't be with at the moment. Even though that at this moment i can't be with him. I can still remember that one night when he told me about his dream to restore an old car. and now at this moment in time when everything is so different. The only thing I can think of to stay connected with this person is to make his dream my own dream. In doing so i feel like he still with me. In
I am going to be telling about the old car first. This one day I was just sitting at home when I decided to work on my uncles’ 1979 ford pickup truck because he was having trouble with it so I told him, “I can look at it one day after school if you want me to because I have nothing else to do besides homework”. He said back to me “ that is fine because I have to work every night this week so just try and find out what is wrong with it.” Every night that week I look at his truck try to find out what was wrong with it. When he got off work on Wednesday, he took the motor out for me to go through after school. When I got home from school, I got big glass of tasteful Arizona tee. It turned out that his piston was broke. He decided that he would just try and find a used piston that is good just to get his truck running