1606
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1606



That's how many miles I put between myself and Austin,
TX in the past 3 days.  1606 miles, nearly $200 worth
of the finest unleaded proffered by Exxon and Citgo
(and some strange outfit named "Koala Gas" where I was
forced to fill up due to a "check gages" light that
had been on long enough to give me a tan.), and
approximately 147 stares by passing motorists.  The 67
Crown Coupe made the drive a pleasurable one.  As
Dimitris has said, we picked the car up in college
station and drove the 100 miles back to Austin in a
little over an hour.  The TX back country roads were
like candy to the Imperial, which gobbled them up and
spit them out in a cloud of 440 exhaust.

Back in Austin, Dimitris and I changed the oil, fixed
a leaky fuel line, reset the timing, checked the
belts, hoses, and fluids, bled the brakes, and
proclaimed it "roadworthy".  I then proceded to hit a
speedbump at 30 mph (In my defence, I did not see the
bump, and it wasn't painted) which apparently set the
Holley Carbura-toilet into a tizzy.  Black clouds
pumped out of the exhaust, and the engine struggled to
maintain combustion.  After a few tries, and soaking
ourselves with premium 93, we got the primaries
working OK, so the car was speed limited to about 95
mph on the flat.  

I left Austin Saturday night around 7, and made it to
Arkadelphia, Arkansas (anyone know the state
abbreviation for Arkansas?  I'll just use "ASS" for
now.) around 2AM where I spent the night at the
College Inn, which was neither near a college nor a
very "in" sort of place.  The cockroach in the room
fridge was dead, though, so that was a plus.  I hid my
wallet, locked my car, and froze my butt off under the
paper thin sheets till the sun shone through the
cracks in the wall and woke me up.  I handed my room
key and battered TV remote to the Indian desk clerk
(question: how does one immigrate from India, halfway
around the world, and end up a desk clerk at a 4th
rate motel in Arkadelphia ASS?  Did his car break down
and he lose his ID and not have any family and just
decide he liked the town?) and left as quickly as a 2
barrelled 440 can.

Whatever.  I left the shady rest, and ate a
chicken-fried steak and egg biscuit (with extra
cholesterol) at an Andy's (motto: all the food they
won't serve at a McDonald's) while poring over the
shop manual Marc was kind enough to include with the
car.  The ampere meter had been fluctuating wildly the
night before, such that in addition to me having a
huge, yellow 35 year old sedan barreling down the
highway at 80 mph, I was now a huge, yellow, 35 year
old sedan with flashing headlights.  Traffic parted
like, well, traffic parting in front of a huge,
yellow...

Luckily, the Arkadelphia, ASS autozone was somehow
stocked with a voltage regulator for a 1967 Imperial,
and after parting with $8.49 for that, and another 4
bucks for an air filter (which is somehow harder to
come by than a voltage regulator.  Go figure) and $4
for a roll of duct tape (insurance) I was back on the
road.

I landed in Nashville (more specifically,
Murfreesboro) TN around 5 PM to meet my friend Lara
and her boyfriend Andy (no relation to the 'Andy's' I
ate at for breakfast, as least I don't think so,
though it is an interesting coincidence) for dinner
and to take advantage of her shower and sleeping
accomodations which contained significantly less third
world charm than did those of the College Inn of
Arkadelphia, ASS.  While unloading my bag from the
back seat of the Imperial, I watched in awe as the
passenger seat motored forward when I tilted the seat
back forward.  What a nice feature!  I had heard about
this so-called "door stretcher" but had never seen one
in action.  I do wish it would motor back when I put
the seat back, but I guess they hadn't invented that
yet in 1967.

After a much nicer sleep than Saturday night's
butt-freezing athon, I left Murfreesboro around 10AM. 
The next 10 hours flew by as I made my way back to
Washington, D.C. without incident, other than the
aforementioned Koala Gas station and a food tab that
rang up as $4.44.  Four Forty Four, as in, Four Forty,
Four Barrel carb.  Hey, I thought it was a sign.  

Anyway, the trip was overall a fun one, though I don't
know as I would do it again soon...even in a plush
luxury automobile with a state of the art (in 1967)
sound system, 1606 miles takes its toll on one's back
and behind. Also, 13 mpg (my average for the trip, due
in part to the poorly tuned Holley and in part to my
less- than "driving Miss Daisey-esque" driving
techniques) got expensive.  But, I am happy to have my
new Imperial (christened "Yellow Eagle"), happy to be
home, and happy that (hopefully) at least one person
on the IML will read this and maybe get a smile.  

Next year, I'll buy a car in.....Nevada?

B-]

=====
--Mike Pittinaro

One point eight litres
Stromberg carburators sing
Loose nut at the wheel

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