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A BAG OF NAILS
I got my first Pontiac when I was 14. It was a 1946 2-door sedan that
my Dad gave me as a project car. I worked on it a little, but my
interest leaned toward Chevrolets. The Pontiac GTO hit the streets when
I was a junior in high school and I knew that I was going to have to
have one someday.
I was in the Navy in 1967 and I spotted a 1965 hard top sitting on
dealers lot outside the base where I was stationed. Although the car
was only two years old it had 33,000 hard miles on it. The car was a
389 tri-power four-speed that looked good, sounded good, and went down
the road real good. I did however, notice a bit of smoke from the
exhaust pipes. Being an auto and aircraft engine mechanic that didn?t
seem to bother me too much so the dealer and I haggled and we came to an
agreeable price and I bought the car.
I ran this GTO for a couple of years without ever touching the engine.
I was young, had a wife and a couple young ones in those days and not
enough money to put into the car but that changed in 1969. The car
always ran good, had good power, was extremely fast but it smoked real
bad. The compression was so low that when you switched the ignition
off, the engine had rundown time, like a jet. This car never failed to
start, never broke down, and was not afraid of any Road Runner, Mustang,
Olds 442 or Corvette. It didn?t beat them all, but she won her fair
share.
I was going to school in Memphis,Tennessee in 1969. It was close to
Christmas and I decided to take leave and come home for the holidays. I
knew the old Goat used quite a bit of oil so I bought two cases (back
then there were 24 cans of oil to a case) and put them in the back
floorboard. I started my trip and whenever the oil pressure started
waving back and forth I would stop,open up two quarts, dump them in and
proceed. By the way, I was on my way to Bangor,Maine. I had to perform
this ritual every 80 miles.I was pulled over by a New Jersey trooper on
the pike. He was quite concerned about the amount of smoke coming out
of my vehicle; he thought I was on fire. Oil was actually dripping from
the rear bumper. I stopped for gas just south of the George Washington
Bridge. I noticed that I had about eight quarts of oil left so I bought
three gallons of bulk oil to take me Bangor. The gas station attendant
could not believe what he saw or what I told him. I made it to my home
in Maine with a little bit of oil leftover but I decided that while I
was home on leave, I would re-build this engine.
I tore the motor down, did a complete rebuild and on the return trip to
Tennessee, it never burned a drop of oil. I made three trips from
Florida to California and back and never used a drop of oil. It took a
1976 Pontiac Bonneville running a red light in Chicago in 1976 to to
kill this old Goat and if that hadn?t happened, I?m sure that I?d still
be driving it today.
I now have a 67 hardtop and I?m getting to the point where I don?t
hammer them like I used to, but if I did I know that this car just like
my 65 would prove to be as tough as a bag of nails.
Richard
Eaton
P.S. I sold a 67 post to a person in Woolwich Me. around 1982. Don't
have the VIN but this would've been an easy car to spot. Black w/white
undercarriage, custom Red crushed velour interior done up with the
original seat stitching,clear plastic covers, custom-made instrument
panel (all Stewart-Warner). 400 Tri-power 4 Spd, 3 inch side exhaust.
Would like to know what became of this one. Thanx, Richard |
