Today I had the first constructive day I have had since the accident. I added one window to my shop to give it a little light.

Tomorrow if all goes well I will add a second one. Adding a window normally would have taken me an hour to do.

It took me all day. I had to take numerous breaks to accommodate the injuries I sustained in the accident and the subsequent spinal surgery. It was slow and painful but the end of the day there was light coming into the shop.

I know there is colder weather coming and having the shop doors wide open for the big clean up wasn’t an option. I grabbed the chainsaw  and some other tools and a window I had hoarded away for special occasions.

Starting the chainsaw was a painful reminder that I just had surgery boxing day, and was not healed, and standing upright for more than ten minutes was still somewhere up ahead on the road to recovery.

I haven’t done any building in over three years, since my I asked my wife to leave the house. Really I haven’t done much of anything. This old truck has become more than just a recuperation project, but a reason to get better physically and mentally. Thank God for Louis Chevrolet and General Motors and the 1955 1st Series Chevy truck sitting on a GMC Yukon Frame.

I don’t know where the money will come from to do the work or for the extra tools, but I have a feeling they will show up as I need them. For now, I have an extra window and my shop is getting cleaner. Soon the snow will be gone and I can start working on the truck.

First job is get the cab off the frame and start sand blasting. Oh yeah I need a compressor and a sandblaster.

I have been spending time on Youtube learning how to build a gas powered compressor. I think I know where there is a tank. I have an old compressor body under my house I used to use for aerating my pond.

I don’t have electricity,  I have generators and some solar power. I do have some basic bodywork tools but no blaster yet. “Later on I did get a blaster and a gas powered compressor.”

It was going to get interesting either way. Can you be off the grid and restore an old truck.

I will let you as I write in this blog.

There is music at the bottom of the post if you like classic rock start the music then read.

As I laid out the plan for restoring my 55, I couldn’t help remembering why it is I love old trucks.

19 years ago last summer I took my old 1957 Triumph Thunderbird chopper to a friends place to barter for his 1949 Chevy Three Quarter ton Pick-up. I got accepted to the Harley  Training centre in Northern Alberta. I wanted to build custom bikes and custom vehicles. I had always been a gear head. I wanted to get out of the computer business. I was good at it but I never found it satisfying.

After a half hour of negotiating over a coffee. I owned a truck. A little gas down the carb and a jump start. I was rolling down the road shifting gears. It wouldn’t stay in bull low unless you held it there, The other three gears worked okay.

The interior had been reupholstered and the interior chrome had been redone. Inside it was pretty. Outside not so much. Headlight rings were dented the cab had a hole in where the box was rubbing. I suspected I was carrying a fair share of bondo. Didn’t matter it all felt right.

First thing I removed the old box, a friend and I welded up a flatbed. I made another trade for some dually wheels and tires, so I could carry more weight.

Moving day came and the truck was loaded with kids, dog, cats and furniture.  Behind the truck was a trailer with more furniture and boxes carefully packed around my old Harley. I wish we would have taken more pictures. The old 49 looked like the opening scene from the Beverly Hillbillies. The only thing missing was Granny sitting in a rocking chair.

We set off early in the morning on an adventure, our new destination was a twelve-hour drive normally.  On the way we drew more than our fair share of looks. I started thinking about the movie Grapes of Wrath.  We were taking a chance and risking everything.

Eight hours into the trip, nighttime north of nowhere the headlights went dim. I pulled into a closed gas station and restaurant. I noticed no service bays.

I opened the hood, and looked around with a flashlight. The alternator mount was broken. My wife was following us in the Toyota 4×4. I told her we would have to pull off the mount and drive back a hundred miles to find a welding shop. That wouldn’t happen till morning. We made room so the kids and her could sleep in the Toyota. I slept in the 49 with the cats and the dog.

I woke up a few hours later and the restaurant was busy. Then I saw it, a flatbed with a welding unit on the back. I jumped out and started wrenching. I pulled the broken alternator mount and walked into the restaurant. At the back was a man wearing a welding beanie. I walked up with the broken part in hand, and he looked out at the truck full of furniture and the Harley, before I could say a word he smiled and said he would be happy to help.

The part was welded many thanks were said, the kids, wife and animals fed, the part replaced, alternator belt tightened we were rolling towards our destination.

Two hours later I could smell antifreeze. I looked down and the heater core was leaking. Antifreeze and animals don’t go together. I went out popped the hood again. I disconnected the hoses to the heater core, I used the saw blade attachment on the leatherman attached to my belt. I sawed through the pipe on the end of the heater core. I used that to reconnect the ends of the heater hoses so we could once again roll down the highway.

We made it another three hours and I developed an electrical problem the charging system had stopped charging. An hour later with my multimeter I found the problem. Someone had left the old firewall mounted voltage regulator  hooked into the electrical system. I know my old chevy engines. I knew that the alternator had a builtin regulator. I cut the wires made a splice and we were rolling again. This time the voltmeter was showing a charge.

Only eighty miles to go the sky opens up and the rain comes down. I fired up the wipers for the first time since I owned the truck. Yup looking back should have checked that. Of course that ran twice then I heard a snap. The wipers were mickey moused.

One more roadside repair, I disconnect the wipers, so they move freely. I shift gears get up to speed and my arm is outside the truck moving the wipers back and forth, so I can see. It gave new meaning to wiper arm.

We arrived at our destination the rain had stopped. We unloaded the truck, the trailer, kids and furniture. The dogs and cats sniffing at every corner in the new house. Me, I collapse onto my mattress and sleep.

Was I mad about the truck? Nope it just made me bond with the old girl even more. That 49 would go on to move tons of lumber, firewood, building supplies and an old 11 foot camper that took my family on many camping trips. It was a sad day when I had to sell her. I still talk to the new owner who tells me that he starts her up once a year. I guess sometimes even old trucks get to retire.

That truck gave me and mine memories. Since all the kids and the wife are gone, that is what I have left. Now I have the new project my 1955 1st series 4×4. I am looking forward to working on her and making some new memories.

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Dec 3 2014

I load up my two dogs, My Beagle Porthos who loves to ride in the car, and Pita a border Collie who does not. Things were different Porthos didn’t want to get in and Pita got in with no fuss.

Pita is about five years old and has never got in a vehicle since I brought her home.

It was sunny and cold. There was frost on the inside of the passenger window.

Normally that amount would have melted by the time I reach the highway a mile away. 500 feet before the Highway is a cross road with a stop sign.

I stopped at the stop sign the sun was just at the right angle to light up the frost on the window and blind me for a second. I looked down the road that I have looked down a thousand times before. Thinking it was clear I started out.

The next thing I see is my airbag and the inside of a cab of a truck with two people I don’t know. I woke up a few seconds later. “Fuck” first words out of my mouth.  My body is twisted around the cab of my jeep. I look and see smoke rising from the left side of my dash. I remembered I had gas cans in the back of my Jeep. I shut off the key the smoke subsides.

Then I do what I always do at accidents even my own. I climb out to see if anyone needs first aid or rescue. I get about two steps and realize my neck and back are hurt so I lay down on the ice.

I reach for my cell phone arrange for someone to pick up my animals. Then I call for services. The occupants of the truck came over I asked if they were all right. The driver had a split lip and his girlfriend was fine. Their little dog was running around in view.

I could see Pita she was on the dirt road and moving okay. I could see the Beagle. Porthos was killed instantly.

I put the circumstances together during my 45 day stay at the hospital.

The two kids were in a white pickup traveling fast on a white road. The sun had lit up the frost on the window masking the truck. I have been on that corner a thousand times. This time I missed seeing the vehicle that almost killed me and did kill my little traveling buddy.

What does this do with the old truck. I decided I had enough with low vehicles.

I needed a truck. Because I live on a dirt road I need a 4×4. I needed an old truck to make it easy to work on an old Chevy. I used to own a 49 Chevy pickup. I thought that finding one of those again would have been impossible.

Especially since I was hurt I couldn’t work. Alberta GOV was screwing me around for the $627 a month they were not about to pay me. My insurance was doing everything they could not to pay me. I didn’t want to forget my unfriendly revenue Canada agent who swears he is going to grab my insurance payments if I do get them.

After spending all my Holidays in the Hospital. Christmas and New Years  With fours hours of Spinal Surgery on Boxing day. I finally arrive home Middle of January.

The fractured wrist, hurt ankle, knee, broken back compressed vert T8, Broken Neck C2, Broken ribs.

After the surgery lost my voice and swallowing is difficult. Moving around is hard. I get a hard collar with instructions not to lift anything over 4 lbs.  Not only did I have to bring wood in I had to chop it. No easy task anymore.

I live in the country with a few cats and one dog, nobody else. I heat with wood. I don’t have a log small enough to weigh four pounds. I was away for forty days we had -46 while I was away. My plumbing is shot. No running water.

I am not looking for sympathy here just to be clear. if I can do this disabled so can you.

Undaunted no cash, I start searching Kijiji. I find a 1954 Chevy 4×4 for swap. I found out later it was really a 1955 1 st series

Fifty three emails later we come to an agreement. I swap some Harley parts, my welder, a motorcycle lift and some other stuff.

A friend offers to let me use his car hauler to go and get it. He actually drives me in buys me lunch and uses his own fuel and does the heavy lifting.

We drive in to the big city and make the swap load up the truck and bring it back to my little acreage. I now own a truck. Like I said earlier it is actually a 1955 1st series pickup. It sits on a 99 Yukon  4×4 frame with a Vortec 350 motor.

Chevy sold this model until Mar of that year and then changed to a new body style.

More to follow

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