I don’t think the weather could have been nicer – and a lot of folks made their way to the Rose District (that’s the new nickname for downtown Broken Arrow, you know…just passed by our elected officials). The event was advertised as Grilles and Grills, a combination car show and burger cookoff.
The grilles showed up in numbers, with some truly classy cars displayed from Broadway to El Paso. Main Street was blocked off – something BA is fond of doing. Any excuse for a parade. Saturday morning it was hot rods, Corvettes, pickups, ’57 Chevys, and about everything in between.
The two beauties in the pictures belonged to the same fellow, as it turned out – Dave Lewis, who has A-1 body shop in Broken Arrow. They are certainly a testament to the quality work he does. As I was uploading the pictures, I belatedly realized I should have asked permission of the owners before publishing photos of their vehicles. I sauntered outside just as Mr. Lewis and his wife were beginning to pull out of their parking spaces. I quickened my pace (a rare happening these days) and got to them before they revved and rolled.
The grills apparently didn’t show up at all. Someone popped in the bookstore to ask where all the burgers were, but I couldn’t say. I had to admit the thought of sampling a freshly grilled burger had crossed my mind. But not my lips.
Someone said there weren’t enough entries to stage a competition, but it would have suited me just fine if the top trophies were handed out to the grillers who were willing to give it a go. I believe they could have sold a few of them. The food truck across from the bank was doing a steady trade. (I sold a little Irish stew as well.)
Looking over the cars, I experienced a brief pang of nostalgia for my own car project, a Triumph TR-6 that I had intended to complete as a graduation gift for my daughter. That date came and went. The years dragged on and the progress was as slow as pouring cold motor oil. I embarrassed myself talking to one of the car show attendees, asking him how many years it took him to complete his restoration.
“A little over a year,” he replied.
Mine was ten years running and could have run another couple. Granted, I didn’t work on it every day, but still.
It was looking sharp, and I was excited when it was finally to the point that I could start it up and back it out of the driveway. I drove it around the block.
And just hated the feel of it.
I don’t know if I had tightened the steering too much or something else not enough, but I was remembering the feel of my little Triumph Spitfires, tiny little British sportscars that were fun to drive, even without any horsepower worth mentioning. The TR-6 handled more like an old farm truck, I thought.
After that spin around the neighborhood, I couldn’t get excited about working on it any longer. I sold it on eBay and the fellow hauled it in a trailer to Texas.
I wondered about the many restorers showing off their projects Saturday, and whether they might be old car book collectors as well, but only one came in and asked about auto manuals. There are a few over on a lower shelf – Chilton and Haynes repair guides – but they tend to be for cars like the Ford Pinto.
There weren’t any Pintos on Main Street on Saturday, but if there had been one, I bet it would have had fat black tires and flames leaping down the fenderwells.