Beluga

I'm not in the habit of naming my cars, but other members of my family grew up with this tradition and have their own nicknames for my vehicles, often derogatory. Such was "Beluga," for a Chevy that was deemed whale-like, despite the fact that Beluga is a white whale and my car was blue.

It was purchased out of necessity, after my '69 Buick met its end while parked on the street. I needed a car in a hurry, and looked, as was my custom at the time, for one that was old enough to be unusual and new enough to be logistically supportable. I ended up with a one-owner 1970 Chevrolet Impala Sport Sedan, the four door hardtop model.

Chevy's Impala, you'll remember, started as a prestige model of Bel Air in 1958, then became the top line Chev in '59. By 1966 it had faded to second string status as the new marquee car, Caprice, became a full series. In the final year of a design dating from 1965, the 1970 Impala had seating for six and a huge trunk large enough to take two adults, three kids, two cats and a sailboard on a two-week vacation. It was not lavishly equipped. While the 350 cid version of Chevy's venerable small block V8 gave it plenty of poke, it had the aluminum 2-speed Powerglide transmission (truth to tell, it really didn't need more than two speeds), power steering and manual brakes. No air conditioning, no cruise control, no power windows, and only an AM radio, which I promptly replaced with an AM/FM cassette unit, state of the art for the day (1986).

It had reasonably high mileage (113,000), but had been well maintained by its engineer owner. He had freshened it with a new paint job in the original two tone blue - except that the roof shade was a bit too brilliant and it stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a New England car, so I eventually had to have the rusty frame welded up (twice) and it had new engine mounts and a front transmission seal. The springs had begun to sag, so I treated it to a new set. And in four years and another 50,000 miles that was about it. At one point I replaced the valve cover gaskets, and in contrast to the Buick, which was full of sludge at 40,000 miles, the Chevy's valve covers were so clean at 150,000 that you could have eaten off them. Trust me, high mileage cars can be way better than low mileage cream puffs.

Eventually, as the kids grew into adolescents, we traded up to a more utilitarian vehicle, and Beluga, then so faded it was best photographed in the shade, was sold to a colleague at work. I considered the whale metaphor rude - the 1972-76 Impalas were much larger, while the real whale, though a bit more compact, was the 1991-96 Caprice, which ironically revived an Impala SS model. Moreover, the name has recently been Mulallied for Chevy's current flagship. Jill never liked my Impala, too large, too hard to handle. Before I found the Chevy, we had looked at a number of imported cars, one of which was a Peugeot diesel. Jill fell in love with it, so the next day we went back and bought it.

We Gather Together

If you should wander around your neighborhood today, wherever you may be, you'll probably see some driveways full of cars and others that are empty. Some of you are hosting friends and family for a Thanksgiving feast, others are their guests. The photo atop this item is from 55 Thanksgivings ago, with my Aunt Timmie's '49 Ford Six at left, my cousin Ben's first car, a '36 Ford convertible sedan at right. Ben later sold the Ford to his brother Woody, and bought a '37 Ford convertible sedan, whose parts car became my first automobile.

Fifteen years later, the cousins' cars were all imported, Ben's Volvo 544 at left, then Woody's Alfa Spyder, and two Volkswagens belonging to Cousin Becky and her husband Bob.

Family cars convene at all seasons of the year. In 1960, we see Dad, my sister Rosemary and me about to go to church on Easter Sunday in our Peugeot 403 (Mother was behind the camera). Just ten years later, Mother accepted a ride from me in my new Rover.

We often visited my cousins in New Jersey, where in March 1954 someone snapped my cousin George with Rosemary and the dog Frolic. Uncle Tom appears to be changing a tire on his Studebaker Conestoga, while on the right is one of several Jeep station wagons they owned through the years. I seldom saw my Aunt Emmy, because she lived in Florida. It seemed like every time she came north she had a new car, a Dodge station wagon in 1955, a new Plymouth three years later.

Postscript

Our driveway was (relatively) empty this Thanksgiving, as we enjoyed a 30-year tradition of dining with long-time friends Billie and Jeff and their daughter Corie in Mansfield, Massachusetts. The table was elegantly set when we arrived, and our feast was plentious. Outside, the cars in their driveway hinted that dinner was being served. We don't always travel with a motorcycle in tow. Our son Edward had decided that the biking season was about over, and rode his Honda RVT 1000R from Boston. Anticipating darkness after dinner and the rain showers we encountered en route home, he loaded it for the final leg of the trip.

I doubt that I'll be surfing the web in 2057, but if this item is still out there in cyberspace, I imagine people will marvel at what we drove a half century earlier. Those among us who are now children will enjoy telling their own offspring how the world was awash with SUVs like Suburbans and Honda Pilots, and how Honda came up with this quirky little box called the Element.

When You're a Jet

...you're a Jet all the way, from your first cigarette to your last dying day. So wrote Stephen Sondheim and you remember the words because of Leonard Bernstein's immortal score for West Side Story. Inspired by Nash's very successful compact Rambler, Hudson's Jet, new for 1953, was built on a 105-inch wheelbase, 14 inches shorter than the big Hudson Wasp, and weighed less than 2,700 pounds. Powered by a 202-cid version of Hudson's L-head six, it could be ordered with Twin H-Power, the dual carb setup offered on big Hudsons from 1952, which made it far more peppy than Rambler's 85 hp engine. Starting price of $1,858 put it in Ford-Chevy territory, and about $150 cheaper than Rambler.

But where Rambler had a number of specialty body styles, station wagon, convertible and hardtop, the Jet came only as a two- or four-door sedan. While the Rambler was well-equipped, with radio and heater standard and upscale interiors, the Jet was rather plain. Legend has it that Hudson's Chicago distributor, a dealer with considerable clout, was responsible for its somewhat ungainly proportions. He felt it should look rather like the 1952 Ford, and convinced Hudson brass to raise the roofline.

In any case, the Jet proved a disappointment from the outset. Although Rambler sales had ebbed from 1951's high of nearly 70,000 cars, the small Nash's 1953 tally of 31,778 was nearly 50 percent ahead of Jet's 21,143 units. The Jet scored better than Henry J's 17,400 cars (including 797 decorated as Allstates and sold by Sears Roebuck), but all the American compacts paled by comparison to the second year of the Aero Willys, which moved more than 41,000 cars.

For 1954, Hudson turned on Jet's afterburners. There were now three series, Jet, Super Jet and a new top-of-the-line Jet Liner. The plain Jet was nearly devoid of trim and had a basic interior. A utility sedan with removable rear seat sought to rival Rambler's compact wagon. Super Jets had side trim and more upscale interiors, while the Jet Liner was decorated to match the senior Hudsons, themselves given a Jet-like grille. Jet Liners also featured accented interiors. All Jets had capacious trunks, a centered fuel filler above the bumper, and offered the aforementioned Twin H, Hydra-Matic transmission, tinted glass, Long-Range radio, Weather-Control heater, and a choice of axle ratios.

Few Jets smoked, but all Jets were Jets until their dying day - Hudson didn't pull a Mulally and rename them Commodores or Pacemakers in search of better sales. Unfortunately the dying day came at the end of 1954's sad 14,224-car season. In the end, sales really didn't matter - as all Hudsons became Nash clones the Jet was axed as unnecessary competition to the Rambler. Ironically, the new American Motors Corporation gave Hudson dealers their own version of the Rambler, and it turned out to be the most popular Hudson of 1955, the Cross Country wagon alone nearly outselling all 1954 Jets.

For lots more Hudson Jet info, check out Sarah Young's HudsonJet.net.

Season's End

...for outdoor shows in the northeastern US at least. Usually Hershey is considered the "closer," although some small gatherings and tours continue as long as Indian Summer lasts. Shortly before Hershey, Jill and I took in the Connecticut Antique Machinery Association's two-day Fall Festival at their museum grounds in Kent, Connecticut.

"Antique machinery" is a broad category, more so than the focus of the Historic Construction Equipment Association, whose convention we attended in July. Not surprisingly, many of the exhibits were agricultural, with tractors prominently on exhibit, from a phalanx of Ford Fergies to obscurities like a British-built Nuffield. Most popular single tractor was the Farmall F12, present in, count 'em, 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 examples.

Somewhat unusual was the vast array of "lesser tractors," those of the household or small farming variety, names like Economy, Tiger, Beaver, Wheel Horse, even a Bolens brigade. Lawn mowers were not neglected, the luminary being a large Coldwell with water cooling.

Trucks featured among the exhibits, some specialized like this Mack-mounted well-drilling rig, others obscure like Crosley's Jeeplike Farm-O-Road and its successor, the Crofton Bug.A real shocker was this Studebaker doodle bug with two-cylinder Onan power.

In large part, CAMA is about engines, large, medium and small, even jumbo in the case of huge industrial steam powerplants. Railroads use engines, and CAMA has two of those, Hawaiian Railway Co.'s narrow-gauge Number 5 steam loco and a Plymouth diesel switcher (made by Plymouth Locomotive Works of Ohio, no relation to the car). CAMA's collection also includes a bevy of steam rollers.

Many exhibitors' engines were strutting their stuff, like grinding corn, splitting wood, planing boards or just sawing wood, both crosscut and circular. For collectors and tinkerers there was a large flea market offering hand tools on up to heavy machinery like lathes and milling machines.

It was perfect autumn weather, and we enjoyed every minute. As shadows lengthened, we drove homeward through Kent village, stopping to browse at an outdoor book sale. At the curb was a distinctive shape that turned out to be a Triumph Mayflower, a nice end to a wonderful day.