A comment about a V-8 engine on a recent post got me thinking about my first car and how much I loved it, even though it was not the best car in the world.
It was a '77, banana yellow, V-8 Chevy Nova, that went through at least a quart of oil a day. Yes, A Day! When I left a stoplight, people often had to wait for the next light before they could go through because of the huge black cloud I would leave. I kept a case of oil in the trunk. Of course that case of oil also kept other things in the trunk because I had it shoved up against the hole in the side of the trunk from rust. The car was 10 years old when I inherited it, so it had a lot of wear and tear on it but I certainly added to it.
When my keys were locked in it, all I had to do was have my friends lift the front end enough for me to scoot under it and reach up through the hole in the floorboard under the driver's seat and pull them out of the ignition.
The driver's door did not shut from the inside so I had to open up the door, roll down the window, shut the door, and climb in through the window. Why not just go in the passenger door you ask? Because that door had been crushed closed in an accident and the window didn't even work on that side.
But boy, that baby could move.
What was your first/favorite car?



