A Vega Short Story

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A Vega Short Story

Postby vegastre » Mon Jul 21, 2014 3:03 pm

TEXAS TO CALIFORNIA AND BACK

PREFACE

A 1972 Vega, a bunch of asphalt, and lifelong friends come together for one weird trip. The following started out to be nothing more than a vacation but wound more a magical mystery tour that had destiny written all over a little Chevy Vega.

Imagine if you will the restless Todd and Buzz on Route 66 in the sixties but instead of the iconic and classic Corvettes install a Chevy Vega that never even came close to driving a mile on route 66. Please substitute instead two life long buddies humping it down the interstate to California in a Vega trying their best to re-capture their youth.

1
NEVER LOOK BACK

Around 1992 or so I decided to drive my 72 Vega to San Francisco and back from Dallas for a fun vacation trip. Not a bad idea but certainly far from a great idea. The Vega had a solid Buick 231 backed up by a turbo 350 so to take a trip out west in the Vega seemed almost like an adventure. The air conditioning was lame but considering it was the middle of September cranking down the highway to El Paso seemed tolerable. Leaving Dallas, El Paso is about a nine hour drive in the Vega and with no overdrive the hum of the motor is enough to make it seem like a two day drive. Helping us along was only one cassette tape, Bachman Turner Overdrive (BTO) Greatest Hits. Oddly enough it didn’t seem like we needed anything else to listen to.

Arriving in El Paso I already was having misgivings and wanted to beat a path back home but I was committed. Checking the fluids all that was needed was a bit of water. The three core radiator was performing beyond expectations considering I didn't have a fan shroud. New Mexico looked inviting to the little Vega but climbing the first tier of mountains the transmission seemed to be slipping until I had no gear at all. Luckily I was on a down hill run so I just let her rip and passed up everyone. Rolling into a small gas station was a god send. Up on the lift I discovered that I had left the Trans pan bolts loose from the pre trip service and all the fluid had leaked out. Easy fix you would think but toothless rednecks swore up and down I needed a new transmission. These inbred banjo playing goofs would hardly sell me a few quarts of transmission fluid and tighten the bolts. Finally after a lot of rambling and the exchange of a twenty I pulled off and looked in my rearview mirror. I wondered how many poor tourists they had rear ended.

2
BIG HOLE IN THE GROUND

Albuquerque and New Mexico were a blur and before I knew it Arizona and the Grand Canyon were dead ahead. Flagstaff is the entrance to the Grand Canyon and a few hours detour but well worth the trip. Having stayed the night in Flagstaff we awoke early to get to the Grand Canyon for the sunrise. Problem being everyone else had this idea and unfortunately this is the busiest part of the day. Tourists lined up with every imaginable camera on earth.

Still, the silence and reverence for this large hole in the ground borders on the religious. Walking up to the edge of the south rim for the first time takes your breath away. You stand there in stunned silence for what seems like hours but in fact it’s only a few minutes and then you release a, “Wow” or a, “Unbelievable”. The rationale is looking at the Grand Canyon you come to realize just how old the earth is and the perception that driving a Vega to California don’t amount to a hill of beans in the over concept of time.

My buddy and I are far from achoholics but standing there looking across the great divide we popped a couple of beers and hoisted them toward the heavens and chugged them down in one glorious gulp. We both burped on cue and as we toasted this glorious morning site the tourist stared in shock at this hard core alcoholic morning. It seemed to have some real significance having just been overwhelmed by the footprint of God. Sliding back into the Vega I knew that moment was priceless. Some pick up a rock or take pictures for a souvenir but my buddy and I knew how to seal the deal. We simply fired up BTO, had a beer, and enjoyed the moment.

Saying good bye to Arizona takes you on a wild trek down into the bowels of Hoover Dam which by it’s own right is a man made wonder which rivals the Grand Canyon only in that it’s just so damn unique and astonishing that man would go to this much trouble but when you live in the desert I guess what choice do you have. They offer this little tour thing and as you go down into the inside of the Dam you would swear it’s something Art Deco straight out of the thirties. The other noticeable icons are the great generators and the fact that everything is spic and span. Arriving at the bottom of the Dam you look back up and it looks even more impressive than looking down. Starting the climb out of the dam you become aware of the fact that it’s like 110 and the little Vega’s AC simply can’t cut the mustard. We roll the windows down just to be blasted with the hot desert wind, the engine temp is past the middle but we have Las Vegas dead in out crosshairs.


____________________________________________________________________________________________________

I wrote this short story some twenty years ago and ran across it while cleaning out some old paperwork. I almost threw it out with the trash. I transcribed it here for the Net and the H-body club since it does center around a Vega. The short story runs some ten chapters so Instead of wearing everyone out I will post a chapter or so a day. Stay tuned because its one wild trip.
Last edited by vegastre on Sat Jul 26, 2014 5:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby vegastre » Fri Jul 25, 2014 12:10 am

3
THE VEGA ARRIVES IN VEGAS

Let me preface this by saying my morals have been accused of being too conservative but arriving at the Flamingo Hotel I felt like it was something straight out of a Dirty Duck cartoon. Flirting with every cocktail waitress was not working but the fact of the matter gambling was all I really cared about. Let me say here that Vegas to me is sin city to the max. It’s where the devil has struck a deal with a town which has no morals. Vegas use to be a hard drinking triple XXX town only frequented by consenting adults but now it is an adult Disneyland where people bring there children. The Devil has certainly found a good partner in Vegas. If the Grand Canyon was touching the hand of God then Vegas was like sitting in the devil’s lap.

Free drinks everywhere if you’re doing some gambling. My buddy and I were sitting in the Golden Nugget Casino downtown slamming one Kamikaze after the other when after an hour my buddy noticed he needed to use the restroom and as he stirred he fell directly on a chrome and glass cocktail table and shattered it to pieces. A horrible noise and commotion and as he rolled over blood was all over his face. Employees rushed up, the manager of the hotel was immediately on the scene. My buddy had a cut right above his left eye which required a couple of stitches. We were escorted to and from the hospital by the Golden Nugget. Arriving back at the Casino he offered us a suite to relax and a five thousand dollar credit line in the Casino to use any way we wanted. We beat a path to the poker tables and dropped a couple grand. We then discovered the Crap Tables and on a hot streak won all that back plus $6,000. We decided to call it a night which actually was 6am and the desert sun was filling our suite full of rays. Just then we got a call from the manager of the Hotel saying he was sending us up a continental breakfast. The reason I mention this is because it was one of the most sumptuous and luxurious meals I had ever had. The suite was not all that impressive but the breakfast served by no less than three people and five courses was an experience to rival the Grand Canyon. After we ate we hit the sack and slept for 18 hours. Vegas had worn these two Texans out. Waking we decided that we had enough of this town and it was time to get on the road to California.

4
GAY COWBOYS

Leaving Vegas with $11,000 in your pockets is not what many tourists do but as I climbed out of the desert toward the Sierra Madres my buddy just kept counting the hundred dollar bills over and over. We decided to tear one in two and keep one half each to preserve this bit of good luck. Almost at that exact moment the right front wheel of the Vega came flying off into the desert. It seems the rednecks in New Mexico had not tightened the wheels back on good after checking the transmission and the rim had sheered off three wheel studs in the process. The odd part is we never felt a thing until the wheel came off. High noon and the sun beating directly down on me and I’m hiking back into Vegas while my buddy guards the car and the cash. I get picked up by this family from Oklahoma and they couldn’t have been nicer they took me to an auto parts store and drove all the way back out to the Vega. I tried to pay them but all they wanted was couple of pictures of us and the broke down Vega. Strange to say the least but hey I was not complaining.

Punching out the old lug studs and installing the new ones was not a tough job just a time consuming one and in the mean time we noticed the desert had gotten extremely cold and a bit of rain was starting to fall. With $11,000 burning a hole in our pockets we knew we had to stop in Lake Tahoe on the way to San Francisco. Little did we know that a storm was blowing into the Sierra Madres that was of epic proportions. Having just been roasted by the desert this extreme cold that had over took us the higher we climbed into the mountains was a bit disconcerting, especially since we had no winter coats. The snow started coming down in sheets and odd claps of thunder. The closer we got to Tahoe the harder it snowed until we finally arrived. Checking into the Casino was a mere formality and as we started playing roulette we noticed we were having better luck just betting red or black. Our eleven grand bank immediately ballooned to 17,000. Then we sat down at the poker tables. I lost $4,000 and my buddy lost $6,000. We took a pause to eat a steak and then back to the crap tables where we lost another $5,000 and as our luck went south we began to wonder if gambling was such a good idea.

No one goes to bed at 12 midnight in Tahoe but my buddy and I did because our bank roll was gone except for about $2000. The next morning we awake to look out at the parking lot and the Vega is completely covered in snow all the way up to the roof line. We call down to the front desk and they inform us the snow plow can’t get to our parking lot till the afternoon. We are stuck in the lobby so with nothing to do we wonder over to the Keno Parlor. Sitting in the keno parlor is the best way to pass the time because the bets are small and the odds of winning are next to none. We sit there for seven hours. The $2000 is gone and I have went to the ATM and drawn out another $1000. I make the comment to my buddy that we are picking numbers so bad we would have better luck if we just spit on the card and then marked the numbers. At that very moment were informed the parking lot was cleared of snow. Remember the hundred dollar bill we tore in half ? We taped our $100 bill back together and placed it on a six spit numbers push which hit five numbers winning ticket and $13,000 dollars to the good. Three in the afternoon with an empty Keno Parlor we were jumping up and down hugging and kissing each other like we were gay cowboys.
Last edited by vegastre on Sat Jul 26, 2014 5:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby marco_1978_spyder » Fri Jul 25, 2014 11:09 pm

Wow, great writing... very entertaining. cant wait for more
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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby ol55 » Sat Jul 26, 2014 6:50 am

Was your friend's name Hunterr Thompson? Good read.

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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby vegastre » Sat Jul 26, 2014 9:50 am

Hunterr Thompson? Good read
.

Well alright =)
I wondered if anyone was going to make the connection.
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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby vegastre » Sat Jul 26, 2014 5:37 pm

5
DONNER PASS

Pulling out of the of the Casino parking lot it occurred to us we needed two things…tire chains…and winter coats. We found a western wear shop and we bought the most expensive leather coats they had along with full quill cowboy boots. That was the easy part because tire chains could not be had anywhere in town for any price. Driving around we were informed that you were not allowed on the mountain passes with out tire chains. As a last resort we started looking in Pawn shops and low and behold we found a set for all four wheels. Problem was they were $300.00 and the manager of the place would not come down a Penny. Almost without hesitation we forked over the money. Sporting chains on all four wheels we are now ready to tackle the infamous Donner Pass. Locals say going over Donner Pass in the worst snow storm they had seen in years was very foolish. The only alternative was to back track down the Interstate. We chose Donner Pass. Snow was so hard you could not see ten feet in front of you but still this was amazing sight so we pull over to do some sight seeing. The creek beside us is swollen and a raging rush of water lapped up against our tire chains. By the time we decided to get going again the Vega was sliding toward the raging rapids so my buddy in what can only be explained as pure luck instead of applying brakes he floors the foot feed and guns the throttle full force until the tire chains spins us back to safety. We both look at each other, hearts pounding, and then reach in the back for a couple of beers turning them to the sky and yell, woop, and holler at the top of our lungs stupid stuff like,”were alive, were alive!”

With this we were making good time until we see red lights in the rear view mirror of the Vega. It’s a cop car of all things. We could hardly make out the car for all the snow. The Highway patrolman meanders up to the window like it’s the middle of the summer and spouts, “Going a little fast there” “The speed limit is 30mph and you gentlemen were doing 35mph.” He informs us that we will be towed the rest of the way and the car impounded until which time we pay the fine. The patrolman informed us they do this as a courtesy to all the tourists who drive reckless over Donner Pass. Enough said.

6
SAN FRANCISCO

Coming out of the Sierra Madres the weather changes radically over from heavy snow to rain to finally a bright blue sky in the 70’s and on a down hill decent until you get into San Francisco. Did I say on the road? This is where the Vega blew a radiator hose in the middle of nowhere. Again repeating the Vegas debacle I stayed and watched the Vega this time while my buddy thumbs a ride on down the road to pick up a radiator hose. This time we weren’t so lucky and no one gave him a ride. It took hours until the wee hours of the morning and he comes driving up in ”Joe Blow’s wrecker service” which had charged him $175.00 to bring him back to the car. I mentioned to the wrecker drive that I thought what he charged was little absorbent and he just laughed. I suggested he give me chance to get some of it back so I suggested we flip double or nothing for the wrecker fee. He agrees, we flip, he loses. My buddy thought I was out of my mind just flipping odd or even for that much money but I reminded him about our Keno luck.

Back on the road we finally get into San Francisco at two in the morning, BTO blaring away, and every hotel we tried was booked. Dead tired we pulled down to the Warf into a parking lot. Paid the attendant to park and immediately sacked out and fell asleep like two bear cubs in their den or I should say a 1972 Vega. I awoke to the pounding hoofs of runners. Thousands running in the early morning before work. Bleary eyed I punched my buddy and ask if he wants a beer or breakfast. As he stirs to life and all squinty eyed takes in all the runners. We both sit there in silence looking for what seems like an eternity and then he mutters “Both”. We down a beer and with that beer it was becoming perfectly clear that we were turning into alcoholics of the first order. We walk over to a Warf café that looks like rodents wouldn’t even eat there but the place is packed. We order breakfast and ask if this town has any good Chinese food?

As the sun fades for the day my buddy and I are sitting in a Chinese restaurant over looking the bay with a beautiful sunset in progress. At times like this it becomes obvious that it doesn’t get any better than this. You don’t order off a menu here it comes as a six course meal. Some of it I approved of and ate heartedly but some I could not while natives ate at a fast pace with their chop sticks whizzing, After some strange Saki like cocktail to finish the meal I realized we still didn’t have a place to stay so back down to the Warf and another night hugging the Vega and the next morning again waking to the hoofs of runners banging away on the cement. Enough was enough, we had done the touristy stuff and the truth is as beautiful as San Fran was I was ready to get on the road down to LA.
Last edited by vegastre on Mon Jul 28, 2014 12:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby vegastre » Mon Jul 28, 2014 12:08 pm

7
SUNSET BLVD

Highway 1 although one of the most beautiful drives you can ever imagine was fairly un-eventful. The little Vega purred the whole way almost like it had traveled this route many times. One exhilarating site after the other until finally L.A. arrives in a cloud of purple smog which burns the eyes and corrupts any thought of enjoying the skyline. Come to find out it was just our luck to arrive on one of the smog days with health advisories everywhere. You know, the ones that says,”don’t breathe the air” LA freeways while jam packed but move at a consistent pace and we made our way to our hotel which just so happen to border east LA. The funny part it was the only Motel we had booked ahead of time because we got it for like $19 bucks a night and we had planned on staying in LA for a week. That all changed as we saw gangs roll past our motel eyeing us and the little Vega. Looking back the inconspicuous little Vega is what probably saved our ass because they thought anyone driving a Vega had no money. We adjourned to a familiar looking hotel on the famous Sunset Blvd. The manager told us it was one of the most photographed small hotels in Hollywood but the truth is it was little more than a dive and worse than our east LA room but in truth it was a perfect fit. Only problem the room was running us $155 a night. This splurge was not bad because our bank roll was still fat from the Keno win. Hardly unpacked we beat a path to the swimming pool. Not a soul around but we had a good view. We spotted a burger place and it was unreal. The entire time we sat there sipping on our home made hotel room margaritas and eating burgers. Wow! I found out what all the fuss was about. I thought you couldn’t make a burger much better than Chili’s but this beat it by a mile.

In a more sober moment I ask my buddy if he wanted to go see the Jay Leno show. The manager had told us all we have to do is go to NBC studious in Burbank and line up early. So we did, we waited for little more than an hour and there we were sitting there for a taping not more than a few rows back all for free. Leno was great but his guests were lame to include the only person of note was Bruce Jenner and the emerging popularity of comedian Carrot Top. No wonder we got in so easy but still very interesting. Recovering from that we headed back to our hotel. Small problem when we got there the little Vega had no where to park. Inquiring to the hotel manager I informed him we need our parking spot for our car and he informed me that their was no guarantee of a spot to park your car, just a room. Take your chances on first come first serve or pay $45 extra. With complete disbelief on my face I forked over the $45 and then a parking place magically appeared in front of our room. He also inferred if I greased his palm with a twenty or so he could save us a parking space and save the $45 parking fee. This would have been outrageous anywhere other than LA at the height of the tourist season.

If this were not enough he also informed us not to count on a lot of sleep as the weekly poker game was firing up in the room next door to us. We were welcome to play with a $500 buy in. I ask if we could be moved and he said they were all full. Knowing we were not going to get any sleep I bought in and played poker till five in the morning and loosing about $1200. It was a sinful night but let me tell you LA and Hollywood is no joke. For some odd reason I suggested we cut high card for a hundred a piece before I went to the room and collapsed. Well, I lost that and wondered next door to our room and the door was locked. I yelled for my buddy to open the door and he said he was going to buy in on the poker game and see if he could do some damage. So be it. When I woke it was the afternoon and my buddy ask if I wanted a beer? I said no. I ask how much he lost and he said he had won a couple of thousand which sort of made up for my losses. I went over to the burger place and as my buddy went to sleep I decided I would take a ride in the Vega out to see the Queen Mary. When I got there to Long Beach For some reason the Queen Mary did not look all that big and impressive.

Back at the motel on Sunset I woke my buddy up and told him I was ready to get on the road back to Texas. We checked out and then went across the street to the market to stock up for the trip home. Heading out on the LA freeways were not kind during rush hour. A huge car wreck had us basically parked for two hours until we finally got out into the desert pointed toward Palm Springs.

8
VOMIT AND PISS

At this point I thought we had thrown away every bit of our bad luck but we spotted a Casino out in the desert like an oasis and with the warm dark desert breeze blowing in the little Vega exciting our last chance to shoot some craps. Problem is they had no crap games so we proceeded to drop another three grand on the 21 tables before the desert started to not seem all that sweet anymore. Getting into the drivers seat I noticed everything was wet. The steering wheel was soaked and the seat full of water. It served us right for leaving the windows down and obviously a rain storm had passed over. Leaving the casino behind we discovered we had read the signs wrong and basically had taken a 150 mile detour all to leave some more money behind. Rolling down the highway an awful smell over took us. A strange mixture that smelled like vomit and pee. Looking at each other it dawned on us almost as an epiphany that it had not rained while we were in the casino but someone had pissed and vomited in the Vega. In the middle of the desert and miles and miles of nothing we had to endure this awful smell until we finally found a small service station open. We pulled up to the water hose and just started to spray water full blast into the interior. Spending about an hour wiping everything down and thank goodness the station owner lent us some Lysol which put us about back to even after we changed our clothes. The Lysol smelled like perfume.
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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby vegastre » Wed Jul 30, 2014 7:15 pm

[size=200]9[/size]
[b]ALBUQUERQUE[/b]

On the road again I missed seeing the Sierra Madres in full daylight for the last time. Probably the most beautiful, artful, and sculptural mountain ranges in the world but alas they were missed and Arizona was little more than a blur as the Vega hummed at 90mph in the night air. Arriving in Albuquerque we needed a shower and bad. The smell of the vomit and piss was all over us. We didn’t want to spend the money for a hotel room since we had planned on staying on the road so we came up with the bright idea to go to a self serve car wash and take a shower while washing the Vega as an excuse to completely d-louse our stinky bodies. Some thing very exhilarating about showering at an open car wash. Not sure exactly what, but it was a hoot. Let me add we used bar soap and not car soap. During all this we noticed across the street was cable car rides to the top of San Andres Mountains. We decided to take the full tourist tour and were not disappointed. The ride up was breath taking and standing at the top of the mountain certainly recharged the batteries for the down hill run in the Vega back to Texas and Dallas. Albuquerque is a strange town. It appears to be the hub for every little quaint city in New Mexico while sporting the stark White Sands where in the fifties the United Sates government tried its best to H-Bomb New Mexico off the map with little luck other then making Albuquerque glow like a green emerald at night. I jest, but it’s hard to believe looking at Albuquerque today they thought so little of this state. Just a short hop from Albuquerque is the El Capitan mountain range. Located there is a touristy town called Ruidoso which sports a race track. We Still had plenty of cash and we dined at a very famous steak restaurant in Ruidoso which was a ten all around. By this time darkness was upon us and it was getting late. I felt like spending the night but after careful consideration we thought it best to get on the road with our bellies full.

[size=200]10[/size]
[b]ROD KNOCK[/b]

For some unknown reason other than we just wanted to take the long way home we detoured to El Paso instead of just taking 380 east into Texas and Dallas. Arriving in El Paso we started having real misgivings why we had detoured. We had no real explanation and as we sat at the trucker stop filling the gas tank I was mesmerized by the glow of all the neon. Truckers filling back and forth, rigs pulling past, at five in the morning I could look out and see a whole city coming to life. I was sort of glad that I was still on vacation and didn’t have to participate in that rat race. Free and easy was still what the Vega stood for. Paying for the fuel and getting back into the drivers seat my buddies snore was just outrageous and the funny part he was missing El Paso altogether. I didn’t have the heart to wake him either. The poor guy just seemed wore out from the trip. Even his deep breathing said he wanted to go home and feel a familiar bed.

Out on the highway the little Vega hummed until I herd a distinct knocking sound coming from the engine. Soft at first and then more distinct. I have herd that sound before and it was undoubtedly a rod bearing giving up the ghost in the Buick 231 motor. You would think I would have freaked but for some reason as the sun peaked out of the east and broke over the hood of the Vega a certain calm came over me like I had never felt before. Looking down the highway there was no one to be seen in either direction. At that very moment I pulled the little Vega over to the side of the road. Stepping out of the Vega the door swung wide open. Hearing my buddy breath in deep sleep I just didn’t have the heart to wake him up. Walking to the middle of the road and looking toward the east as the sun rose over the horizon as I stood in still silence. Everything was silent except for the rustle of the tall grass on the side of the road. It was then I realized that was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen in my life. I had just seen the Grand Canyon but this put it to shame. The only explanation I could come up with is that for the first time in my life I came to the conclusion I was a Flat Lander. An epiphany of sorts hit me that somehow Texas was my home and I had missed it the whole time we were gone. The horizon suddenly lit up and warped the sky from east to west. Nothing on this earth gets flatter than west Texas and miles and miles of nothing. Something so vast, so old, so ancient called out to the little Vega treading where dinosaurs had once roamed. I wondered if the whole trip for me was about this moment. I certainly wasn’t on a journey of discovery but there it was. Weak in the knees at this point I hardly made it back to the Vega. Firing the motor up the rod in the engine was knocking away. I’m not one to talk to inanimate objects but at that point I told the little Vega if it got me home I would never sell it. Surrounded by the vastness of nothingness is appropriately where this magical mystery tour should end. Firing up Bachman Turner Overdrive on the cassette player and pulling onto the highway and back to Dallas I came to realize life is but one long vacation and it’s up to you to enjoy every minute of your journey.

[b][size=200]THE END[/size][/b]

Selected listening: Bachman Turner Overdrive (BTO) Greatest Hits: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mv7WfEX ... T2YZL_E-_L

[color=#BF0080][i]“Everyday is an endless train you got to ride it to the end of the line. Be a trouble shooter blow the bad luck away and you will make it to your station on time. And you’ll find out every trick in the book and that theirs only one way to get things done; you’ll find out, the only way to the top is looking out for number one. I mean you, and that’s us”.[/i][/color]

Keep looking out for number one and keep having fun in your H-Body.
[b][i]Phil Kennedy~[/i][/b]
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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby vegastre » Wed Jul 30, 2014 7:37 pm

Vega Today,
Looking a bit worn just like the owner but I have not sold the Vega as promised in the short story. Tentatively a 2015 restore back to a stock Silver GT, black interior.
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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby cosvega76 » Thu Jul 31, 2014 7:44 am

Great story, Phil!

Now...how much of it came from the real road trip?


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Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby vegastre » Thu Jul 31, 2014 6:45 pm

how much of it came from the real road trip?


Good question,
About 70%, the other 30% was either too boring, too seedy, or pretty much unbelievable if taken out of context. With any story you have to take a certain artistic license to fit all the pieces together in a story line that is somewhat interesting. The reason I went to San Francisco was for a job interview and I decided to drive out and ask my buddy to keep me company. I eventually took the job offer and lived in San Fran for two years. Although romanticized for this story the Vega did not like the trip at all and broke down numerous times only to be towed twice. The gambling aspect of the story is pretty accurate although a compilation of visits to casino's with friends while in California. The one thing that is absolutely accurate and absolutely true is the last chapter but borrowed from when I was moving back to Texas after having lived in California.
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72 Chevrolet Vega GT Hatchback
75 Pontiac Astre SJ Safari Wagon
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vegastre
 
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Joined: Mon Nov 10, 2008 12:10 am
Location: Dallas, Texas

1975 Pontiac Astre SJ

Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby zeke » Thu Jul 31, 2014 8:39 pm

Excellent writing, enjoyed reading your story! Those damn tranny shop guys! lol
Chris

zeke's 79 Monza Project

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zeke
 
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1979 Chevrolet Monza 2+2

Re: A Vega Short Story

Postby OldsStarfire » Fri Aug 01, 2014 4:28 pm

It's a great short story! I really enjoyed reading it. Thanks for posting.
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1977 Oldsmobile Starfire SX


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