Father, son and a V8
Discussion
Today is the 5th anniversary of my fathers death due to a heart attack. A week or so prior I sold what would turn out to be the last car he ever bought for me.
Now if this had been a Fiat Punto or Ford Fiesta (I was 23 at the time), I probably wouldn't be writing this. The car was the culmination of a mutual interest, we always said that we would own some form of American car at some point and this car was what I hope to be one of many.
In the short period of ownership I used it as my car of choice for the Student Gumball Rally, where it performed amazingly....until the second day. The resultant chaos of being stranded in a foreign country with limited funds, a broken car and a mobile phone that was soon to be cut off would become the stuff of legend among my friends.
Burnt out from the cost of the rally (7 days and over £2k) I made the then sensible decision to sell the car to pay off my debts, I talked it over with my Dad who I think must have been a little hurt but the child that I was, I ignored and focused on trying to make a profit. Then the 8th of October came and life took a different path and to an extent we are still dealing with the financial fallout today. Throughout this difficult period of my life, I have felt an overriding sense of guilt for throwing away my fathers last gift so brazenly.
Like you, I always trawl both the classifieds on here and eBay for my next motor of choice, I have also certain saved searches setup to monitor for the make and model of the car. Over the past five years whenever that search returned an item, I would avidly review it in the vain hope that it would be the one, but not once had it shown up.
Until last week.
When I clicked expecting the usual suspects, only to find the one I had been looking for I was simply speechless. No shouting from the rooftops, calling my friends or tears of joy, just a simple 'oh'.
If you excuse reference of a film character, Optimus Prime said 'fate rarely calls us at a time of our choosing' and never a truer word has been spoken. I was not what you could say 'flush' with cash and the prospect of a car purchase with my current diminutive finances was, sketchy at best.
For a week I watched the bids slowly creep up, I talked it over with my partner and waited. I was coming to the realisation that I would, most likely have to watch the one car I wanted slip away. It would be made all the more visceral by the fact it was an online auction and that the clock was quite literally, ticking.
We reach today, the anniversary of my fathers death and the end of the auction; finances have been juggled and I've come to an amount that I can just about afford which at a stretch is £2300, the auction had already hit £2000.
As a seasoned eBayer, I knew that as the auction was in the middle of dinner time on a Saturday the odds of heavy sniping were slim.
Three Minutes to go, still no other bids, I waited.
Two minutes left and I make my bid and pray that it's enough. One minute thirty left and there was a time for a bidding war, this is it.
Silently I wait for my high bidder status to be removed as the auction ticks down to its inevitable conclusion.
I want this moment to last, even if I lose the auction for this brief moment, the car was mine again.
Fifty seconds to go, still no other bidders.
Thirty, Twenty, Ten, You've won this item.
I miss you Dad, every day.
A shot of me with the car way back in 2006.
Now if this had been a Fiat Punto or Ford Fiesta (I was 23 at the time), I probably wouldn't be writing this. The car was the culmination of a mutual interest, we always said that we would own some form of American car at some point and this car was what I hope to be one of many.
In the short period of ownership I used it as my car of choice for the Student Gumball Rally, where it performed amazingly....until the second day. The resultant chaos of being stranded in a foreign country with limited funds, a broken car and a mobile phone that was soon to be cut off would become the stuff of legend among my friends.
Burnt out from the cost of the rally (7 days and over £2k) I made the then sensible decision to sell the car to pay off my debts, I talked it over with my Dad who I think must have been a little hurt but the child that I was, I ignored and focused on trying to make a profit. Then the 8th of October came and life took a different path and to an extent we are still dealing with the financial fallout today. Throughout this difficult period of my life, I have felt an overriding sense of guilt for throwing away my fathers last gift so brazenly.
Like you, I always trawl both the classifieds on here and eBay for my next motor of choice, I have also certain saved searches setup to monitor for the make and model of the car. Over the past five years whenever that search returned an item, I would avidly review it in the vain hope that it would be the one, but not once had it shown up.
Until last week.
When I clicked expecting the usual suspects, only to find the one I had been looking for I was simply speechless. No shouting from the rooftops, calling my friends or tears of joy, just a simple 'oh'.
If you excuse reference of a film character, Optimus Prime said 'fate rarely calls us at a time of our choosing' and never a truer word has been spoken. I was not what you could say 'flush' with cash and the prospect of a car purchase with my current diminutive finances was, sketchy at best.
For a week I watched the bids slowly creep up, I talked it over with my partner and waited. I was coming to the realisation that I would, most likely have to watch the one car I wanted slip away. It would be made all the more visceral by the fact it was an online auction and that the clock was quite literally, ticking.
We reach today, the anniversary of my fathers death and the end of the auction; finances have been juggled and I've come to an amount that I can just about afford which at a stretch is £2300, the auction had already hit £2000.
As a seasoned eBayer, I knew that as the auction was in the middle of dinner time on a Saturday the odds of heavy sniping were slim.
Three Minutes to go, still no other bids, I waited.
Two minutes left and I make my bid and pray that it's enough. One minute thirty left and there was a time for a bidding war, this is it.
Silently I wait for my high bidder status to be removed as the auction ticks down to its inevitable conclusion.
I want this moment to last, even if I lose the auction for this brief moment, the car was mine again.
Fifty seconds to go, still no other bidders.
Thirty, Twenty, Ten, You've won this item.
I miss you Dad, every day.
A shot of me with the car way back in 2006.
Edited by LincolnLovin on Thursday 17th April 16:22
.Edited by LincolnLovin on Saturday 26th March 07:00
Anyhow, now that I'm back home and the Lincoln is safely tucked away, I'll begin...
Early starts and Saturdays rarely make good bedfellows, today was no different. However tea, peanut butter on toast and the prospect of driving the Lincoln ensures my mood is nothing sort of bonny.
That and the surprise I have for my brother.
Now, lying is a bad thing but there are times when its for the greater good. Those of you who have been following this thread will know that I had asked my brother to give me a lift to pick up a runabout for the misses.
Namely a Nissan Micra.
Now my brother is a car enthusiast like myself, so quite naturally was interested in what the car was and why I was getting it. In fact he had talked about it at his work, as he found my situation quite amusing, in that the change from a Saab 9-5 Aero to a Nissan Micra was quite a large one.
So I had to start filling in the blanks, it developed a partial service history, an ownership profile (and indeed an owner), a year (1997) and an engine and trim level (1.3 SX Electric windows!).
Being the silver tongued lothario that I am, my brother was convinced. Hook line and sinker.
So off we drive to Harlow, laughing about how my trip back in a ultra basic Micra would be quite distant from fun. About an hour or so later, we arrive near the venue. To my horror its small twisty streets, great in a Micra a tad worrying in an eighteen foot, five and a half foot wide yank.
We turn the corner and I spy the Lincoln, my brother sees the Lincoln but doesn't recognise it as he is still looking for the Micra! On second glance he realises what car it is as I say "Yeah, we're not here for a Micra"
He's was blown away.
This was a strange moment, because its the first time I've ever paid for a car upfront, sight unseen. It makes for a fairly bizarre buying process as all that really needs to be done (certainly in this case) was to sign the paperwork. After some obituary checks such as lifting the bonnet to check that there was in fact an engine present I started her up.
It's been a long time since I've heard an American V8 and although the 302ci (5 Litre) powerplant in the Lincoln isn't what you would call a high-power variant (160bhp) it does sound good.
So, I guess the burning question on your minds is what were your first thoughts and how does she drive?
The Lincoln is pretty much the same as when I left her, thats both a good and a bad thing as it wasn't close to concours condition in 2006. Although the following five years have not been unkind to her, they are noticeable. It appears to been stored outside, so the underneath is rustier, there was condensation on both sides of the window and the brake light was on.
None of that mattered though.
After a much needed coffee provided by June (the now former owner) and with my brother taking the lead we started the journey home.
Now this is a big car, a big, big, big, BIG car.
Did mention it was big?
The Lincoln was definitely not designed for small English backstreets, but as soon as we hit more sensibly sized roads things were slightly less hair raising.
The initial part of the journey was uneventful, but stop start traffic and a trying to stop a two tonne car going down a large hill created two things:
1. A lot of smoke
2. A small fire
Yes ladies and gentlemen, I have cooked the brakes! Namely the drivers o/s. I suspect that the Lincoln has been driven much in the last few years and that the discs, pads and fluid are truly shot. A now completely spongy brake pedal would confirm this.
But I managed to limp her home, there are many things to fix or improve but I've got a lifetime to sort them out.
Early starts and Saturdays rarely make good bedfellows, today was no different. However tea, peanut butter on toast and the prospect of driving the Lincoln ensures my mood is nothing sort of bonny.
That and the surprise I have for my brother.
Now, lying is a bad thing but there are times when its for the greater good. Those of you who have been following this thread will know that I had asked my brother to give me a lift to pick up a runabout for the misses.
Namely a Nissan Micra.
Now my brother is a car enthusiast like myself, so quite naturally was interested in what the car was and why I was getting it. In fact he had talked about it at his work, as he found my situation quite amusing, in that the change from a Saab 9-5 Aero to a Nissan Micra was quite a large one.
So I had to start filling in the blanks, it developed a partial service history, an ownership profile (and indeed an owner), a year (1997) and an engine and trim level (1.3 SX Electric windows!).
Being the silver tongued lothario that I am, my brother was convinced. Hook line and sinker.
So off we drive to Harlow, laughing about how my trip back in a ultra basic Micra would be quite distant from fun. About an hour or so later, we arrive near the venue. To my horror its small twisty streets, great in a Micra a tad worrying in an eighteen foot, five and a half foot wide yank.
We turn the corner and I spy the Lincoln, my brother sees the Lincoln but doesn't recognise it as he is still looking for the Micra! On second glance he realises what car it is as I say "Yeah, we're not here for a Micra"
He's was blown away.
This was a strange moment, because its the first time I've ever paid for a car upfront, sight unseen. It makes for a fairly bizarre buying process as all that really needs to be done (certainly in this case) was to sign the paperwork. After some obituary checks such as lifting the bonnet to check that there was in fact an engine present I started her up.
It's been a long time since I've heard an American V8 and although the 302ci (5 Litre) powerplant in the Lincoln isn't what you would call a high-power variant (160bhp) it does sound good.
So, I guess the burning question on your minds is what were your first thoughts and how does she drive?
The Lincoln is pretty much the same as when I left her, thats both a good and a bad thing as it wasn't close to concours condition in 2006. Although the following five years have not been unkind to her, they are noticeable. It appears to been stored outside, so the underneath is rustier, there was condensation on both sides of the window and the brake light was on.
None of that mattered though.
After a much needed coffee provided by June (the now former owner) and with my brother taking the lead we started the journey home.
Now this is a big car, a big, big, big, BIG car.
Did mention it was big?
The Lincoln was definitely not designed for small English backstreets, but as soon as we hit more sensibly sized roads things were slightly less hair raising.
The initial part of the journey was uneventful, but stop start traffic and a trying to stop a two tonne car going down a large hill created two things:
1. A lot of smoke
2. A small fire
Yes ladies and gentlemen, I have cooked the brakes! Namely the drivers o/s. I suspect that the Lincoln has been driven much in the last few years and that the discs, pads and fluid are truly shot. A now completely spongy brake pedal would confirm this.
But I managed to limp her home, there are many things to fix or improve but I've got a lifetime to sort them out.
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