Chapter 2

After the unfortunate demise of my first car, I began the search for my next automobile. The first candidate was a over priced white 1983 Toyota Celica Supra. It was the car of my dreams, but not the car of my means. Number two was a black 1982 VW Golf GTI with wicked wheels and a killer engine. This car was nice, but the interior was very tight.

The last, but not least choice was a 1983 Fort Escort GT in Prince-of-Darkness Black. It had a 1.6 liter EFI engine, a front spoiler and a soft rubber fin in the back. All the chrome had been blacked out by the factory, and the windows had been tinted as dark as was legally possibly. The car was so black that I was convinced Darth Vader had been the original owner. On top, the car had an option that every teenage boy craved: A removable sunroof!. At 75 miles per hour with the windows rolled up, the car would clean itself by sucking all loose items out the sunroof. After installing a 200 watt Alpine Stereo system, any items that previously were not loose soon found themselves shaken out of the car. One day while "cleaning" the car, I grabbed a piece of paper just before it went out the roof. It was a import order that stated that my car had been imported from Germany one year before I bought it. Way Cool! This would explain why most of the safety warnings on the car were in German.

With its distinctive keystone wheels and blacker-on-black paint scheme the car was always the center of attention. I was sure that this was the best car that Ford Motors had put out for 1983. (Remember, these were the Mustang II years). The car was to be my pride and joy until I made the mistake of putting new wheels on it. This started a tragic string of events that haunt me to this day.

The wheels were black BBS style spokes with polished chrome rims. The tires, Cooper Cobra radials, were low profile, wide, aggressive but not exactly round. The car was not happy about these tires. Even after the tires had been "shaved" by a performance shop to perfect roundness, the car still pulled to the left. One month after I installed the new tires, the timing belt snapped as I was driving down the highway. Mercifully the Escort GT had a "fly cut" engine, which meant that the pistons did not impact weld themselves to the valves when the belt broke. The engine just spun happily with no problems as I coasted off the highway. Five hundred dollars later, the car was good as new, again. But the lord of the dark underworld wanted his car back, and he would not be denied.

Not four months after the timing belt incident, both radiator hoses blew in unison; and the car then overheated in about the time it took you to read this overly long sentence. Aluminum heads minus water plus heat equals bad things. The head gasket was burnt to a crisp and immediately began to leak. After my mechanic opened the valve cover to replace the gasket, he inspected the pistons and then quickly advised me to "Sell The Car". When I asked for more details he said "Sell The Car, Soon". Aluminum heads minus water plus heat equals burnt piston rings. Looking back, I probably could have fixed the car's engine. But, the car was a five year old Ford Escort with 90,000 miles and no resale value. It was a nice car, but it would never be a classic. So it was off the car dealer again.