Rusted Metal

“Bang!” The wrench clatters against the walls then clangs a couple times with a ricochet and then slides along the shop floor. A string of frustrated language that I would be ashamed to say in public spews from my lips. I have been working on this 1960 model pickup for two years and it is still in pieces and unpainted. Two engines are in the corner of the shop room waiting to be chosen to honor the build with their presence. Two gallons of paint sit on the shelf ready to recolor the old, and new, metal of the pickup truck. I walk across the shop and retrieve my wrench then settle into the old office chair I saved from a dumpster and reconditioned. Leaned back in this avocado green chair I put my feet up on an old stool I built from salvaged lumber. The “shop” is an old chicken barn that has been retrofitted to be an auto shop. Everything from my home to my clothes to my vehicle is repurposed and second hand, as much as possible.

I’m often asked why I don’t just buy new things. My response is typically a puzzled,”Why? It costs more, and this is still good!” Growing up on a farm you learn to use everything until it cannot be used any more. When the movement to reduce, reuse and recycle hit the television it was already deeply ingrained in me. I began to look at the amount of waste that humans tend to produce and to diagnose my own areas of waste. Why do I need so many changes of clothes? Why do I need so many dishes? Why do we all live in such large homes? Why do we buy new vehicles? I have to admit a certain self serving motive in the last question. I have always loved the old classic cars. My first car was more than 25 years old when I bought it. I was amazed at how comfortable it was and that its economy was roughly on par with the new vehicles my friends were making payments to own. This pickup was a little more in depth. I was creating an antique with a custom built engine to run on alternative fuels. I hadn’t ever done such an ambitious project before.

I ran my hand down the side of the truck. The body repairs I had done were smooth, better than it came from the factory. I smiled in satisfaction. With one hand still on the rear quarter panel, I stared at the engines in the corner. I decided that the turbo charged four cylinder engine would be the right choice. It would be even more unusual that way. I wanted to show that an old classic could run efficiently on propane, an uncommon and cleaner fuel choice nowadays. I returned to work on the clutch with renewed purpose. It wouldn’t be easy, but I knew I could make this work

The satisfaction and joy of driving that old truck, and many other restored vehicles, was well worth the effort that went into building it. I was able to enter it in a truck show alongside my dad and my brother’s trucks. It was a proud moment as we answered questions at the show to viewers that came out that day. Of course I told them that it had taken a lot of busted knuckles and sweat, but that just made the success that much sweeter in the end. On the way home from the show, a photograph of me in my finished project truck in the seat beside me, the wind rushed through the window, cool and refreshing on my face. I smiled wide and long as I patted the dash. What a perfect day.