Drawn In By A Taillight

At the end of the winter in 1989, the heater on my Tercel gave out. Anyone who has lived through a Minnesota winter knows that a heater in your car is pretty much the most important luxury you should afford yourself. Leather seats? Nah, vinyl will do. Radio? I can sing just fine. Carpeted floor? No, you'll just be putting rubber floor mats down anyway to catch the slush off your boots. Heat though, non negotiable. I place before you the question, which caveman do you think lived longer the one with fire, or the one without?

Now, with the caveman mentality amidst, I must tell you that I decided to beat my chest, make a few grunting noises, and without any formal training, fix the heater on the car. I did some study on it, and proceeded to remove all the bolts from the dash. I think I may have read a few pages out of order or who knows maybe the publisher printed them that way, but the dash never actually came off the car. — To this day, I'm not even sure if the heater was somewhere inside there. Likely it was in the engine compartment. — Not my problem ... well, ok, it was my problem, but only for as long as it took for me to drive to a dealership named Toyota City. I drove onto the lot with the full tail-between-my-legs preparedness of having them fix the heater and the dash.

However, before ever getting a chance to speak to a mechanic, I was entranced by a set of taillights that I swear were calling me closer. They were HUGE, and looked like eyes staring at me. The car, as most on dealership lots are, was perfectly clean and sparkled against the snowy ground below it like a bar of gold. I walked straight over to it and was swiftly attacked like a mouse in an open field under a sky of hawks. Car Dealers. Surely they saw the look in my eyes and knew that I had already made the deal in my mind. (which technically, I had ).

Here was a 1984 Toyota Camry DX. A box to most, but to me it was a natural upgrade in the world of a Toyota owner. The interior was not plush by any means of todays standards, but to my -then- level of standards, it was a luxury beast. A four passenger, classy, golden brown piece of brilliant machinery. This was also my first venture into a vehicle with an automatic transmission. Luxury. The radio had more speakers than 2, and the ride was as smooth as it's squared off body panels. Perfect. Mine. I drove off the lot with it about an hour later.

For four wonderful spring months this car performed like a champ. I jazzed it up with extra pinstripes along the windows, and across the headlights. Not sure why. Guess I just wanted to find a way to personalize it as mine and pinstripes seemed the least invasive, as, to me, this car was pretty darn near perfect. Ran like a dream, and yes, I pointed out the taillights to people every chance I got.

On Memorial Day weekend that year, I even phoned up a friend and we headed off on a three day journey out across South Dakota to see Mount Rushmore. We made it all the way out to Wall City on the first night, took witness of the great mountain carving the following day, and headed back, staying in a little bungalow cabin along a river just outside of Souix City, making it back to Minneapolis, all within the three day holiday timeline. Perfect Road trip, all thanks to a set of taillights that said hello.

Love "1987" Style

In 1987 I fell in love with the Toyota Supra. The styling had changed just enough to to yank at my heart. Though I have never had the pleasure of actually owning the car, I still possess the brochure for it—in mint condition—to this very day.

Rear Wheel drive, 3.0 liter in-line 6, 200hp, and a ( not so great ) addition of a turbocharged engine. I know that this car had it's difficulties primarily attributed to head bolt torque specifications which led to blown head gaskets, however, the fix was easily repaired by later released specs bringing the car back to the nearly indestructible Toyota level of quality.

All encounters with this car, be they in person or photographic, still avert my attention to this day. Does anyone ever forget a love?

40 Miles Per Gallon ... HECK YA!

My next adventure in the world of Toyota came in the form of a 1986 Tercel. This car was a workhorse from day one. As a matter of fact, it was my workhorse. I began my illustrious career in advertising with a job doing deliveries for a typography shop. They provided the vehicles, I provided the clean driving record. Among the fleet of three, were 2 Tercels and one Toyota pickup. Light Yellow, Burnt Orange and Dark Burgundy. With the drivers it was a first-come-first-choice basis on what vehicle you drove that day, but after a while we each grew into the car we liked best. Mine being the light yellow one.

This car was not new by any means of the word. By the time I started at the agency it had already been "Totaled" once and had well over 100,000 miles on the odometer. It was repaired remarkably well though, and although it was a SUPER STRIPPED DOWN version with a rubber floor and only a radio as an option granted by the company, I LOVED IT! Not long into my career the clutch on the car went out, and a new one was added via the company. This also assisted in my decision to buy the car when about a year later the company decided it was time to upgrade their fleet. They put both Tercels up for grabs at the price of $1500 each. I swept in, and it became mine. For the record, they kept the Pickup because it had been so badly beaten over time that there were no offers on it at all ... even though, it still worked very well. You'll read more on that vehicle though soon enough.

So, with a new car in my possession ( relatively new, sort of. it really was only 2.5 years old when I bought it ) I began to do restoration projects. My first was to add carpeting. This was easy enough to do, as Toyota makes cars that are absolutely user friendly for the enthusiast to customize. My next change was to purchase a split folding rear seat and change out the existing one. I contemplated tinting the windows and adding rear window flares along with specialty wheels, but decided to keep the car in original condition instead. I should say that my bank account made that decision actually. True.

And along the lines of the bank account, comes the perfection of the car. Here was a four cylinder, stick-shift, two door four-seater hatchback. Created in the mid 80's. Not a hybrid of today, yet the gas mileage ... 40 miles to the gallon! And this was back in the days when the price of gas still started with a ONE! I was able to make weekend trips from Minneapolis up to the "Iron Range" of Minnesota no problem. EVER! It was the perfect vehicle. Perfect for my budget and perfect for me.

A Corolla Leads The Way

My first introduction into the world of Toyota ownership was via a used, white 1979 Corolla. (Yes, I know the Manual says 1978, but mine was a 1979.... this manual is the one that came with the car though, so my thoughts are that the model didn't change from year to year at that point, so they loaded the car with this manual and saved money on printing ) In my humble opinion this was the perfect way to begin. Here was a vehicle that, despite amazement of build quality, had been ravaged by the bite of a Minnesota winter. Rust had eaten so much of this little trooper of a car away, as I describe it I can only laugh. The carpet worked very well as a floorboard beneath my feet. The actual floor itself had become a large open space to the road below. Behind the drivers seat, yet another large hole. One of my friends went so far as to say that the seat amazed him the most since it "must be levitating."

I purchased the car from an elderly woman of whom I worked with. She had purchased the car brand new and you could tell in her voice that it had been a good friend to her many times over. My cost: $225.00

Now, possibly, it was the pride of venturing into the world of automobile ownership, or maybe it was the feeling of freedom that can only be achieved by your foot on a pedal and wind in your hair (what hair I had that still was around at the time) but to me, that car lifted my heart and mind into adulthood. It didn't have a sunroof, no major bells or whistles. Heck, no real minor bells or whistles either. Didn't matter, it was mine. It ran, and it was dependable.

One night, sadly, while venturing home after work, I smelled smoke. (Not too difficult to do considering the open-air design that winter road-salt had provide the car with) Then I noticed licks of flame coming from the hood seam. Ok, it was time to pull over. I was pretty certain that I was going to end up being one of those people pictured on the news standing next to a scorched heap of metal resembling the bones of a long-dead dinosaur. I quickly raced around to the trunk of the car to see if there was some 'magical' fire-extinguisher concealed there, as every car obviously comes with one of those. - I was young and believed - I pushed items around in the small, medicine-cabinet-sized space and loe and behold what should I discover but a full gallon bottle of Glenwood Englewood water left there by the previous owner. I know that some people may read this and wonder "how did you not know that was there to begin with?" To them I must remind that I was young, this was my first car, used and rusted, 1979. Nothing of mine was going to ever be placed in that trunk for fear it would become a portal and somewhere in a land called Narnia a talking beaver would become very perplexed.

I poured the water generously over the hood of the car allowing it to make it's way in the same way that air did. To my delight, I heard the joyous sizzle of a flame being extinguished. The car now sat on the side of Highway 12 ( Today a much more expansive highway 394 ) Dead. I walked the many miles home and phoned a repair station nearby. They retrieved the car, and the following day I was pleased to discover that my problem had merely been a faulty starter. The cost to repair ... $225.00 Yes, the same price I paid for the car. Worth it? Yup! Every penny. That was the only problem I ever experienced with the car, shy of the carpet raising my feet up each time I went over a puddle. I LOVED it! Truly. When the time came for me to finally sell the car on, I ended up selling it for a total of $500.00 thereby making a profit of $50. The new owner was a Toyota-phile as well, and knew exactly the car he was buying, He even knew about the holes in the floor before I showed them to him. It felt good to know the car would continue to be loved.