Heavy Chevy

In 1998 as the century was about to turn, I was enjoying the ultimate expression of freedom available to a member of my generation, having a car. Yes, I indeed come from a simpler time. I did not yet have a cell phone and my computer looked like a man in a space suit sitting on the floor of my room and desk. The Hewlett-Packard tower had 1.5 GB of storage and I could manage with my “highspeed connection to download four songs every night while I slept over a period of six hours. So yes, in my day the ultimate expression of who you were was the vehicle that you drove and well for me I was struggling to find something that fit me personally. I had been through a couple of vehicles, an old Chevrolet and then a Ford Ranger Splash but I was still not quite complacent. That all changed in May of that year.

My Dad loves to by sell and trade cars and my childhood was full of interesting vehicles that rotated through our household. He had recently traded one truck for two other trucks and a trailer and informed me after school that he needed me to drive one of the trucks home. The first truck was a 1971 Chevrolet long bed pickup truck with blue and white paint that was a real rust bucket. But it had a 402 cubic inch motor with 3/73 rear end gears. It lazed along nicely but was not all that exciting to look at or drive. But the second truck was a 1972 Chevrolet Cheyenne 10 also with a big block 400. Also, long wheel based, the two trucks at first glance to an untrained eye would seem very similar. But you could not be more wrong.

This one was two tone green and did not have a spot of rust. But the main difference was the rear end. With 4/11 gears the truck was a monster and mated to the 402 cubic inch engine was a force of nature. After driving it home my Dad asked me to give him the keys and I refused. “This one is mine,” I said and for the next three years it manifested the very best and worst of me. With the long light bed and torque, it could spin the wheels for days with no effort at all. So, I had mounted a wide set of tires to improve the grip and it became a drag racing machine. From 0-80 I could outrun almost anything in my hometown and after I had cherry bomb pipes put on it you could hear the engine from two miles away. The truck had so much torque that I broke two sets of motor mounts in the first year I drove it.

The truck represents the best memories I have of high school and behind the wheel I had some incredible adventures. It was not without its flaws looking back, the gas mileage was abysmal, and it was totally hopeless as soon as you took it off the road. Most of my friends had four-wheel drive trucks and would go mud riding on the weekends. I did not as the only time I attempted it the truck sank like a stone and was almost impossible to pull free. My friends from that day forward christened the truck “The Heavy Chevy” and the name stuck. But I did not care, the truck was practically invincible with its huge cowboy bumper that I left on it to keep some weight out over the rear for traction. The truck was rear-ended four times while I was in high school and I never even had to buff out a scratch.

I kept the truck for a few years but when I hit my senior year, I started to think about the gas driving back and forward to college and the old truck started to make less sense to me. I was growing up, and as much as I loved the old truck it was starting to fit me less and less as I was getting older. The man who bought it sold it to a museum in Tennessee and as far as I know it is still there. It seems fitting really, as the truck was a legend in my hometown, but most of all for me. The truck got me into a lot of trouble, but it was also always there to get me back out again. Hardly a week goes by where I don’t feel a wild hare to go find it and buy it back. But a more sensible version of me knows better. A lot of people will ask me what my favorite vehicle ever is, and I usually say something else in response than the Heavy Chevy. But that is because the old truck transcended that for me. It represents not my favorite vehicle, but one of my favorite parts of myself, of my youth. One day maybe I will get another chance to burn some rubber in the Heavy Chevy, but till then I have some incredible memories.