Hey, Javelin!

     I think it was in 1968 when my dad pulled into the driveway with a new car, an AMC (formerly Studebaker) Javelin, lime green with black "racing stripes" on the side and on the hood. It was stock and had an automatic transmission with a 304 engine and Tiger Paw tires. The tires had a thin red stripe that went around the sidewall denoting their "raciness."
    My mom was appalled at this car in front of our house.  Dad had traded in our comfortable Chrysler 300 for this lime green, stiff riding two door muscle car with bucket seats, dual exhaust and its eye catching color and air foil.  I thought it was great!  Dad has always liked cars and he just felt he had to have this one. There was a TV commercial out at the time that showed two cars at a stop light.  The lady in the car next to the Javelin rolls down her window and says to the driver next to her, "Hey, Javelin!"  Corny, but it became a catch phrase for the car. It wasn't as fast as some of the cars of that time but it was still pretty quick and handled well and it looked kinda cool in its own funky lime green way.
     My dad taught me how to drive when I was just a little guy so now he went to the next level. He allowed me to start driving the Javelin.  I didn't have a license or even a learner's permit yet. I was the only freshman at high school who was driving to school and parking next to the seniors and their hot-rodded Mustangs, GTOs, Camaros, '57 Chevys and the like.
      So one weekend I'm cruising around town. My short hair parted in the middle, wearing aviator type sunglasses, head band firmly in place, and the radio tuned into the appropriate rock station and of course the seat is tilted back. Gotta look cool ya know. I see a couple of guys I know from school down at the beach. They want to go for a ride in my lean, green machine. They want to go to High Meadows, a meadow up in the mountains with a stream running through it, which is at the end of a long and bumpy steep dirt road.
     All is well at the start but then we come to the creek. The creek or river is not real big, maybe 25 feet across and about a foot or more deep. You need to cross this stream and continue up the dirt road in order to get to High Meadows. I slowly inch across and get stuck on a rock. For a truck or jeep it wouldn't have been a problem. But for the Javelin? Problem! Not only was I stuck on the rock, the water got into the engine compartment and it wouldn't re-start. One of the guys hiked out and hitchhiked to my folks place and my dad eventually showed up with his truck and tow rope. Boy was he pissed! And he had every right to be pissed. Here I was, out in the woods, stuck in the middle of a river on a rock with his hot rod lime green Javelin.
     I had abused my privilege of using the car and that pretty much ended my use of it. Dad pulled the car off the rock and out of the river. The other guy that was with me just walked home, he wanted no part of my angry dad and the trouble I was in. I got the car started and followed Dad home to the corner of Glenwood and Pioneer.  Back to the Schwinn 10 speed for me! I saved my money and eventually bought a Corvair which I decorated in a most outlandish way. I'll tell you about that at another time.

Take care,
Bob