Never the Same #69 In Search of…

Sometimes Kirk finds what he’s looking for.

         

 

Cue: “Don’t Stop Me Now” https://youtu.be/HgzGwKwLmgM?si=HydnYSEyguc32liw

           

            Kirk had a good year of racing proving to himself that he was capable of something after most of his life spent without direction or success. In that time, he had moved on from girlfriend Sarah to rekindle a flame with Farah who had dated before in his college years. Though he had spent less time with Farah lately for he had a new mission in life. Besides with  them undergoing changes in their work hours didn’t make it easy for romantic interludes. Also, during the summer he had briefly, ever so briefly, a heartfelt interlude with old flame Dee, the love his life that would never, ever see a re-connection or rekindling. 

            Work remained an iffy situation with the U.S. economy gone belly up despite a new president in Gerald Ford and so downsizing at the plant was a real concern. Kirk’s father didn’t seem to worry about be laid off at the plant saying that he could always continue working the farm with Kirk, who’d be laid off as well, to help him on the farm. Whenever farming came up around the kitchen table, Kirk’s mother would always timidly, quietly say that the whole farm would one day be willed to him. When she said this, Kirk’s father wouldn’t engage or confirm that that was a notion he’d agree to. Besides, Kirk had no desire whatsoever to live his life as a farmer, so ownership of the farm sure didn’t ring his enthusiasm bell. 

            Every morning, Kirk admired his small trophy sitting on his bedside table. It might have not been much or all that big, but at least he got recognized as the Rookie of the Year for all his battles he fought out there in the coliseums of speed, the NASCAR Stock Car ovals. With his second season under his belt, he couldn’t be a rookie anymore, so he had to up his stock car game, which only meant a new, improved, and faster car. He was pumped about it already despite the season just ending and the autumn coolness that could damper anyone’s excitement for the next summer which was a long way away.

            In these days, Kirk and Farah weren’t spending as much time together as they had over the summer. Farah got a higher nurse position, more responsibilities, yet having to work odd, long hours. Kirk, on the other hand, worked the swing shift in his warehouse job when before as the solo Rock Handler, he only worked day shifts. On the other hand, working swing shift might be better, leaving more daylight hours to work on his stock car, which always remained front and center on his mind.

            Despite the lurking specter of losing his job with the economy tanking and not getting any better, Kirk went about his business as usual. That meant the rookie trophy kept his interest piqued about getting back on that oval track. Maybe he had a lingering inkling of grandeur with a big sponsor and advancing to bigger and more prestigious stock cars and tracks. He did all right with his old coupe but that car was old hat with outdated automotive technology and Kirk wanted to become more current state of the art if he was to become a winner. When intending to build new, he had no intention of cannibalizing parts off the old car like most racers usually did, he planned on starting from scratch, so he thought about selling the green coupe outright and complete.

            Well, if Kirk wanted to build a new car, which included a new frame and roll cage, he’d have to start with those for a foundation. He wanted a different car body. A different look. He thought his green 36 Ford Coupe body was cool and all, but he needed to be more “now” and find something newer and more relative to the time. That meant he would go the other type of car body the rules allowed in his class and that was compact cars.

            There were already some of the earlier compact cars, that type of car that would sit lower, have a lower center of gravity, and of course appear more modern. Yeah, the past season had a few drivers with compacts from Hornets, to a Falcon, to a Valiant. Those models came from the 1960’s. In fact, the Valiant was the body style of the cash car Kirk despised for having the perceived reputation of being made out of money hence, unbeatable, proving money can bring you joy if that joy happened to derived from winning-every-single-solitary-race you’re entered in. Kirk thought it would be boring if you knew that in every race, you’d positively, absolutely beat everyone in the class. That car was built with every expensive performance part that could legally be installed on a stock car.

            Since 1970 there was a new batch of economical compact cars such as the AMC Gremlin, Ford Pinto and the Chevrolet Vega. Kirk had always thought of himself as a Chevy man or maybe a Pontiac man seeing he had that Firebird, but in reality, it didn’t make much difference on a body for a stock car seeing it didn’t look the same as the street version of those cars once converted to a race car.

            Anyway, seeing all those cars represented on the track meant of course that Kirk had to find something else, something unique at least not on the track during the past season for Kirk strived to be a distinctive individual in everything automotive. The first car that came to Kirk’s mind was the AMC Gremlin, talk about distinctive, huh? He started by putting feelers out to see if he could find a junked-out Gremlin.

            The Gremlin, even though had been produced for a few years at this point, obtained a mixed regard. In most cases people hated it for the seemingly diagonally chopped off back end, which Kirk liked and thought would be distinctive on the track. On the other hand, hot rodders thought the Gremlin was worth a cult following seeing the compact car came with an optional engine namely a V-8.  Va-va-VOOM!

            The bottom-line thing about a body was, though, Kirk sure didn’t want to pay for a complete car that was road worthy. First off, it would cost way more than he wanted to pay. Second, a full car he'd have to completely dismantle and dispose of when all he needed was the sheet metal body shell. On a side note, he remained undecided if he’d stick with his green and yellow paint scheme though in consideration that was already distinctive in itself.

            Trying to come up with sort of a plan in his head he wondered how he should proceed. All matter of components, pieces, raw materials, performance parts, not to mention said body intruded into his mental plan. He had a pretty good stash of cash on hand, so purchasing any or all of the needed items wasn’t a problem, but a guy could get overwhelmed and run about in circles on what needed to be done in order. He faced a big, possibly overwhelming job for one guy along with Jon’s assistance and expertise. Sitting down on a tire of the old car, he pondered his “plan” whereas his plan not being very plan-like if you follow. With his aimless thoughts, a memory sprang forth. A guy in his class had mentioned at the awards dinner that he had a frame. He didn’t recall what the frame came from, but if the guy mentioned it, it must be usable for the class. Gus was the guy’s name, one of the “also-rans.” 

 

            So using the opening of the racer’s grapevine, or basically word of mouth, Kirk thought following up was a possibility of finding something he needed. Kirk couldn’t remember Gus’s last name, but he knew that he ran number 44 on his car. He scrounged up a racing program and checked the point standings. There Gus was way on the bottom. That made Kirk feel good in an egotistical sort of manner. Kirk then pulled out the huge family phone book that everyone had back then and searched out his name after checking several different town listings because he didn’t know where he lived. Holland, he found out. Kirk thought if he lived in the same town as the race track, he’d be even more dedicated to racing than he already was if that could be at all possible.

            Kirk remained the man of few words, never much of a conversationalist but he could converse with the best of them to get what he needed. From the old black Biscuit home phone with the long-coiled receiver cord that Kirk always let dangle and spin to undo the knots, Kirk made the call, rather nervously, in fact.

            “Ah, Hello? Is Gus there?” Kirk asked on the phone, not even sure if he had the right number or the right Gus.

            The woman on the other end, which Kirk assumed was Missus Gus, answered, “Yes, Gus is around here somewhere, probably in the garage. Can you hold? And who is this calling?”

            “Oh yeah, sure. This is Kirk Biscuit calling, ah, I know Gus from ah, stock car racing.” Kirk didn’t know what else to explain his connection to Gus.

            “Of course! I remember your green car! Hold on a minute.”

            “Okay,” Kirk said, hearing the phone rattle while being set down.

            A few minutes later, Kirk wondered if they forgot he was on the phone, or they couldn’t find Gus, but with a little racket of the phone being picked up, Kirk jumped with a booming voice.

            “HALLO KIRK! How’ve ya bin?”

            “Good, good. How about you?”

            “Oh, just busy, ya’ know. Hey, congratulations rookie!”

            Kirk lost his tongue for a moment. “Hey, thanks, Gus. Didn’t know everyone knew about that.”

            “Oh sure. It was in the paper and all.”

            “Oh, right. Thanks. The season seemed pretty long.”

            “Well, you stuck with it not like me. I work weird shifts and so can’t hit all the races.”

            “I can understand that.”

            “So. What brings a call from you, Kirk?”

            “Well.” He paused to get a thought straight. “I recalled someone said you had a frame for sale suitable for a stock car, ah, but, I don’t know it’s been a while…”

            “Yep, still got it. I’m here in the village and one neighbor complained about my stock car and the stuff I had around, you know, like the suburbs almost.”

            “Yeah, okay. So, what is the story with your frame.”

            “Just a bare frame from a Chevy pickup. I thought about building a better car, but just don’t have the time with the family, work, you know?”

“Sure, sure. What’re you asking for it?
“I was asking two hundred during the season but now? How about one and a half?” 

“Consider it sold. Ah, oh is it in good shape?” Kirk asked as an afterthought.

“Rusty, but solid. No holes, hadn’t been in a wreck.”

“Okay. When can I pick it up?”

“How about next weekend?”

“Sunday?”

“Good, give me your address, and I’ll be down with my trailer.”

“All right, then.”

“Okay, see you then, bye.”

            On Sunday under a gloomy, gray overcast sky, Kirk drove his pink van/trailer combo and found Gus’s garage relatively easily and pulled in. His place was located within the village and Kirk could see why the Gus’s neighbor might complain. His stock car sat on the lawn and various pieces of cars sat around haphazardly. A Chevy pick up front clip and cab sat on the driveway.

            Getting out, Gus emerged from the manufactured home next to the garage. Shaking hands in greeting, Kirk couldn’t say he recognized Gus from racing though in after thought Gus had admitted to not being able to race all that often.  Well-kept Gus looked like a chunky, small business owner which surprised Kirk. Gus gestured and invited Kirk around the corner of the garage, the lawn being wet and soggy when he stepped. The frame sat leaning up against the back wall. Kirk, not being all that experienced in or around many builds or closely examined other cars, he didn’t think he had any kind of knowledgeable basis to judge what qualified as a suitable frame for a stock car. Gus pointed out that it was a very robust frame with very substantial cross members. Kirk thought it before Gus mentioned that the cross members could be replaced if desired. Otherwise, it looked like an especially long frame, probably too long Kirk thought, with well-boxed frame rails. Kirk decided it was indeed in suitable shape and a good strong foundation of a solid car so he reaffirmed that he’d take it. With some trailer maneuvering in the muddy lawn and then use of the come-along hand winch they loaded the frame.

            Having loaded it and Kirk paid him, Gus asked the next step on Kirk’s agenda.

            “What you using for a body on this? Are you going to stick with the coupe?”

            “Ah no. I decided not to use anything from the old car, to start from scratch and work ground up completely.”

            “So, no decision on a body, then?”

            “No, I just thought to try something more of a late model compact like a Gremlin body.”

            “Yeah, that would be cool for sure. I tell you what, do you know the Holland Auto Parts Yard?”

            “No.”

            “Well, old Howard over there used to race and caters to racers seeing the track is here close by. You should check him out seeing you’re here in town.”  

            “Great idea. Where abouts is he?”

            Gus explained the directions before they shook hands and parted ways. Kirk felt good about the frame which would indeed be a good start to his new stock car. His enthusiasm started an upswing on the way to the Holland junkyard though he didn’t set his hopes TOO high because he really didn’t know what he wanted.  

            The junkyard was located just a few miles from Gus’s residence. To Kirk’s discontent, it started to lightly rain.  From the road, the junkyard appeared neater than at Kirk’s usual haunt, Crazy Ed’s. This yard had a tall wooden fence in front so you couldn’t even see junked cars, even though a couple borderline decrepit cars sat outside the chain link/plastic gate probably ready to be junked out, Kirk surmised. He pulled up to the locked gate and got out.  He then recalled it was Sunday, funny him, and so he paused and turned back to his van seeing it was raining anyway.

            By the time he reached his van, an old grizzled guy came from next door, a colonial-type house that appeared rather nice and tidy.

            “Howdy, young’un. What brings you my way?”

            Kirk lost for words again, stammered, “Ah, ah, might you be Howard?”

            “That would be me. Howard of Holland Auto Parts.”

            “I was just, ah in town picking up this frame from Gus and he said I should check out your place, but being Sunday and all, I can come back some other time.” Kirk picked up speed during the course of the sentence thinking he’d be on his way soon

            “Building a car, are you? Come a ways off?”

            Kirk told him.

            “Well, I hate for you to make the trip again just to look around or inquire within.” Old Howard smiled genuinely. “What are you after?”

            “A body to fit my class. I’m running a coupe and want to go newer, hmm, I’d like a Gremlin…” Kirk drew it out into a question.

            “Fresh out. One of your competitors got my only one. I have a couple bodies stripped out. See if you’re interested.”

            “Are you sure?” Kirk hesitated looking up and holding his hand out flat. “In this rain? On a Sunday?”

            “Yeah, yeah. It’ll only take a minute to see what I got.”

            Howard unlocked the gate and opened it enough to walk through. Kirk thought it was the neatest junkyard he ever saw. Off to the side sat several old stock cars smashed up and parted out. Kirk smirked to himself. Where old stock cars go to die. A chill went through him: My car could have ended up here if I had given up after that practice day crash.

            “How’d you end up with these old smashed up stock cars,” Kirk inquired as they stepped in the yard.

            “I provided tow truck service to the track for several years. I brought the cars here and some guys just took a little cash to leave their cars here.” Howard said, with a tilted face to the rain coming down. “Easiest to tell you now, I remembered what I have. I got a Maverick and a Chevy 2 that needs stripping out. Oh, and a Vega.”

            Kirk had a downturn thinking that none of those sounded like what he wanted. A Maverick Kirk thought belonged to a little old spinster librarian. Vegas looked pretty good, almost like a small Camaro, but he wasn’t sure about that either. They had that reputation of engines burning oil and wearing out prematurely. Here he was in the rain, miles from home with a frame on his trailer with possibilities for a new updated, modern body, but he still didn’t know what he was looking for.

            “Ah, I don’t think I’m ah, interested in those.”

            Howard held up a wet index finger. “Wait. My hired man was going to strip out a Pinto. Interested?”

            “Huh. A Pinto stripped out? I’m-not-sure.”

            “C’mon take a look.” Howard strode off down the driveway. Down a way, sat the remains of a Pinto. Kirk thought it looked pitiful sitting there with no running gear or no glass. It was a dirty cream color, or beige, or was at one time. “How’s that fit your fancy?” 

            “Never thought of a Pinto,” Kirk said, his wheels turning and picking up speed. He suddenly envisioned the Pinto body on a stock car frame sitting really lowdown with the wide racing tires sticking out the sides and a spoiler on the back like he built on his coupe. “I think so�"how much?”

            “I have no other use or market for a Pinto body so how about a hundred bucks?”

            “Sounds great! Want me come back for it?”

            “Nah! Look!” Old Howard walked up to where the windshield used to be, now waist high, and hefted it right up off the ground. “With this thin tinny sheet metal, it probably doesn’t weight two hundred pounds. Bring your trailer around and we’ll get this right up there.”

            Soaking wet, Kirk ran to the van and brought the combo into the muddy yard. After securing the doors with bungee cords, they wrestled the body on the trailer. Kirk thought the body was indeed light and fragile because of the thin metal and if damaged during transport he could fix it later on. He paid Howard and got on his way.

             Kirk felt happy with his two purchases on one day for he was on his way to next season though he never imagined running a Pinto body of all things, but he was relatively happy with it for a stock car because no one else would be likely to utilize such a downtrodden car. He imagined the potentially over-the-top appearance and performance features which jazzed Kirk to his inner mental core. He cruised home with the possibilities bubbling in his mechanical brain. It didn’t occur to him about the ongoing federal investigation about Pintos blowing up and burning with minor rear end collisions.

            At home, Kirk immediately got out of his van and set the ramps in front of the garage. He fired up the old reliable green number three coupe, drove it across the yard, and into the old decrepit garage. He parked it and went back to the van without looking back at the car that brought him that rookie trophy and number three in points because he had his mind front and center on the next season because he had the basis of a winning car. That red cash car would not have anything on him nor be in front of him next season because Kirk Biscuit “Uncle Kirk” would be number one!

            Kirk had sky-high hopes in his ability to build a winning car and drive it to victory. If this truly came to pass, he’d be Never the Same for sure.