Life and times and the cars that got me there

The first vehicle I drove was a nineteen seventy something Ford Courrier. It was a sun faded red with a shredded interior with a bench seat and 4 speeds. In my younger days it was used to commute to the nearby hamlet and back to the farm we lived on outside of town. My greatest thrill was when Dad would set me on his lap and let me steer.

This vehicle was the pride of each of the Gapper boys, we all took turns repairing and modifying it in one capacity or another. We all dreamed of the day that this truck would be our own and how cool we would be screaming down the correction line in it.

The truck was never registered or insured because it never took a trip more than 4 or 5 miles, it was used to haul garbage to the dump, transport wood and do other light duty things around home. Nobody ever took ownership of little red, but we all had fun tearing around in it as soon as we could reach the clutch.

The car I got my license with was a 1983 Pontiac Parisienne, this was a massive car by today’s standards. My Dad bought it new from a dealership 40 miles from home. This car saw 4 teenagers a few dead deer (though they were only dead after the encounter), countless miles and road trips to hockey, vacations, boarding school drop-offs, in city and cross province relocations (looked funny screaming down the streets of Saskatoon with a Queen size bed on the roof) and the like.

I don’t know the exact numbers but what we affectionately referred to as “Le Pontiac”, was retired about 3 years ago in Alberta, it was donated and likely became a gross of pop cans or I beams, by guestimation I’d say it had 300,000 kilometres on it and what was left of the body. At the end several interior parts had been pitched from the car while on the road because it was no longer possible to keep it whole. Parts of the Pontiac are scattered and buried all over Saskatchewan where her soul shall rest for ever, or until some farmer gets it stuck in his tire.

The next car I drove was the Mercury Capri my eldest brother bought and handed down. This was my first “cool” car. It got me to many a party and the scent of vanilla pine tree air fresheners sill takes me back. The Capri died near Richardson Saskatchewan when the engine overheated and spewed scalding antifreeze over the right side of my torso leaving me with significant burns and discomfort. Luckily we flagged down a bus bound for home and found $250.00 in the seat. The bus driver said to keep it since this bus was out of service for a year before this trip. I don’t remember the evening for obvious reasons.

The last of my most memorable vehicles was the 1986 Chevrolet Cavalier or “Kadoo”, it was named this because it spent more time in the snow bank than the road but never by accident, I had a E. Knievel thing going for a while. I’ll retain further stories due to the fact that my Mother reads this occasionally. Two words: Wet Bar.

I’ve had about another 6 or 7 cars since that are gone for various reasons but they mostly served me well or were dispatched by mine own hand.

So in honor of the cars that got us around life and near misses, I take one sip of a 40 for me and pour one to the earth for my homeys.