The love of F trucks I caught from my Dad

In 2021 the Ford F-series range of trucks celebrated some important milestones, it was recognized as the best-selling vehicle in the United States for the last 40 years, and the best-selling pick-up truck for 45 consecutive years. That’s no mean feat, in fact, few vehicle makers come close, except for the Volkswagen Beetle and the Toyota Corolla.

The reasons behind the Ford truck's success are many and varied. Some of it comes down to reliability, over the years some very savvy marketing, and of course stand-out good looks. As an Australian the news that the Ford F-150s will be returning to our shores in 2023 after nearly a 20-year absence is exciting. But my love for this Ford range of trucks is personal, it might even be described as genetic.

My Dad was raised in a Holden household. Holdens were the now-defunct General Motors Australian brand. When Dad started working as a surveyor, however, the commercial offerings from the Holden stable didn’t meet his needs. Dad eventually sought out and bought a 1967 F-100. This truck took him across the country, working in tough remote locations around Australia.

It’s the car Dad owned when he met Mum. They got married in Toowoomba which is a small town on the East coast and had to drive back to Perth over in the West, some 2,600 miles. My Grandad was worried about Dad driving such a long distance with his new wife in the car and no seatbelts, so he insisted Dad buy a set of seatbelts. Dad wasn’t headstrong and foolhardy like I grew to be, he went and bought those seatbelts. He just never got around to fitting them before their drive. About 350 miles from Perth, they hit a kangaroo, the windscreen shattered, and Mum hit her head on the very sturdy dashboard. An important lesson was learned there for Dad.

When my older sister was born, the hum of the V8 engine was a perfect sound to lull her to sleep. I’ve heard multiple stories of Dad driving my sister around with her curled up on the floor. A level of safety that probably should not be repeated today.

As the family grew, they needed one with more seats so for a time Dad was without a pickup truck. Then he went into business for himself, and he bought a later model white one. Again, this truck got to go on many adventures. He took it up to Papua New Guinea where he was working on mine sites, when that job was done it traversed Queensland and the Northern Territory.

I think it’s fair to say that Dad and I were chalk and cheese growing up. But one thing we could connect on was cars and motorbikes. I remember one time asking Dad why so many ambulances and tow trucks were F-100s, and I will never forget Dad’s response:

You don’t want a tow truck to break down and you don’t want an ambulance to break down, so you get the most reliable vehicle you can, that’s an F-100!

I didn’t need any more convincing after that, an F truck would be my dream truck. When I was 19, I had saved up enough money and bought a 1962 model. Canary yellow with a 351 Cleveland engine. It had the aerodynamics of a brick wall, I got about a mile to the gallon, there was no air-conditioning which would have been nice in such a hot climate, and the fuel tank (still located within the cabin behind the seat) leaked which often meant the cabin was filled with gas fumes. But I loved it, I felt like I had found something that Dad and I could connect on.

Of course, it needed a lot of maintenance and that meant I had to tap into Dad’s knowledge. We worked on the truck together, I dripped a lot of oil on his driveway which made me a little bit unpopular. I learned about engines and transmissions from working with Dad. It was good to see his enthusiasm for the old girl. When I sold it because I needed something more reliable, I could tell he was as sad as I was to see her go.

Over the last few years, I finally found the opportunity to have a new project with Dad, I bought an old 1942 Ford pickup. Technically not an F truck, but the precursor to them. Dad and I had been restoring it. Well, Dad had been doing the heavy lifting and I had been financing it.

Sadly, Dad passed away in January, while engaged in one of his other passions, riding his vintage motorcycle. He has left me with a pick-up truck in a few million pieces and no instructions (because they were all in his head). It will be a passion project to finish it and honor Dad’s memory.

The memory of a man who loved his Ford pickups, and instilled that same love in his son.