Last year when I dug my Olds out after about 15 years of sleep I had something hit me .

My friend and I pulled it into his shop and stood there and admired my car for a bit . Even with us being Ford guys since day one , we could see a great amount good things about this Cutlass that we always liked . We talked about how the W25 hood was something that would make people think twice about wanting a race . Also , how the "W" cam had a great note out the tail pipes . The color and stripe combo also seemed to just go with the car .

Even being Ford guys , we really liked these cars . Its refreshing to see one now and then . We get tired of all the multitudes of Mustangs,Camaros, Chevelles,Novas, and such . We make a point when people try to call us out about it being a "Chevy" that it truly isn't from the way we see it .

Anyway , back to the title of this thread . As we stood there we think why not try to start it . I say sure , lets try . We grab a battery charger , some fresh gas and I try to find the keys after so many years :-) . We open the hood and hook things up . He looks the carb over and says it isn't stuck so we are good to go . I walk over to the door and open it up . Thats when it hits me . Hits me right in the face like a 2x4 . The smell of this car sends a flood old memories to the surface . Lots of races from the past as well as various girls from that time lol . I stand there for a moment to savor it . My friend yells at me and asks whats the hold up . I told him to calm down , I was having major memory flash backs . He looks around the hood and smiles at me .

So , after a few minutes I say ok , lets do this . I reach in and hit the key . Just like that it hits right off and settles into a nice lope . We sit there and grin at each other . We go to say something and its the same thing , "Man that sure sounds sweet" .

If you guys have some particular memories you have it would be nice to here them . I have a good racing story to share from back then in this car . It cost me my license but was worth it :-) .

P.S. Sorry for the length . Just felt like sharing this with you Olds guys :-P

 

Great story, a lot of us feel that way.

 

My major memory is that the Delmont has a bigger backseat than I thought.

 

1974 Cutlass Supreme. I had more fun in the back seat than I had in my bedroom. I sure missed that car. I donated to charity as a tax write off and bought a 93 Bonneville because it had a supercharger. What a piece of crap. This car has more problems than a math test.

 

I can agree with the back seat stories in my first 98...but I remember long drives down I65 - to get better gas mileage, I would get about 10 feet behind a semi trailer and draft. Not too smart...but with age comes wisdom.

 

My first cutlass, a '71 Supreme was subjected to many modifications through the years I drove it. Back in the late 80's-early 90's you would see several cutlass' on the road if you drove around the city & every junkyard had 2 or 3 or maybe more. That is another story though.
One night I was set to race a '70 Monte down in a little town called Franklin, south of Indianapolis.
I had a slightly modified 455, th400, & 4:10 gears. Right about the 1/4 mile mark, at about 100mph, something let go in my drive line, U joint, driveshaft, trans, I'm not sure, but it was vibrating like hell & all the spectators said there were massive sparks from under the car. Something was beating & banging on the floor boards(driveshaft)real bad & it tore a small hole in the floor & dented up one of my flowmasters a bit. All of this happened in a flash, but it seemed to go on for much longer. When we finally stopped, we found the drive shaft was twisted in half near the tailshaft, the bellhousing was completely broken & I was done for the night. The Monte driver later complained about finding U joint needle bearings in the fins of his radiator. I told him he should have been ahead of me!!
A friend of mine drove home & got his truck & trailer a came back to where I was broken down & hauled my car back home for repairs.
That car had a habit of launching driveshafts & transmissions, but it was fun.

Another time, right after I installed the 455, I still had the 2:56 single track rear. A couple friends piled in the car & we went out a bit from my house & did a righteous burn out through first, second & part of third. We went back with a 100' tape measure & marked off just over 300 feet of a single black mark. Ahhh to be young & stupid again....

 

79 Cutlass has a really small back seat.

 

As far as back seats go, it's amazing how spacious the back seat of a 71 Supreme seemed when I was 16 but at now at 32 the same space seems to have shrunk significantly.

 

Get a 98 LS Sedan, lots of room in the back seat!

 

My story is about the car I have now - the '68 4-4-2 convertible - which is also the car my dad bought "new" on March 28, 1969, when I had just turned 18 years old. What a neat car, and with a bench seat in front! My girl could sit next to me, belted in of course, and we could go cruising together, with my arm around her, like nobody's business. After the Saturday night school dance, we'd head out to the beach for some kissy-kissy smoochy-smoochy time and that bench seat was again perfect! Put the key to the ACC position, dial in some long distance AM radio station (all the stations in our little town were off the air by 10PM), and, if that radio station faded, I could just reach up, push the button and bring in another long-range station playing good music.

Somehow, we figured out we were wasting about 20 minutes time going all the way out to the beach, though, when we could just park at a roadside rest area, which was right on the main highway, but also directly on the way to her house, and get 20 minutes bonus time on the front seat vinyl! That worked a couple of times but, one night, I looked up just in time to see flashing lights in the windshield. A mad scramble ensued - coats, the blanket, anything to cover us up! A few seconds later, there came a tapping on the passenger door glass. I reached over and rolled down the window about an inch. "What's going on in there?", the state trooper asked. I didn't know what to say so I blurted out, "Just resting, officer." All I remember after that was that the officer said something about "...not a good place to rest..." and "...better get a move on...". He then got into his patrol car and left.

My girl and I were scared out of our wits! I took her home and I went straight home after that. I fully expected to hear about it the next evening at the supper table - it was a small town, everybody knew everybody else, and that white 4-4-2 with the black stripes on the fenders, well, everyone knew it was my dad's car. But, not a word was mentioned. For years.

I eventually found out that my parents did know about the "incident" but decided not to say anything. My mom was thoroughly disgusted at the time but was overrulled by my dad, who told me he was thinking, "...that's my boy...".

Lesson learned by dumb, immature teenager: Don't "park" at a roadside rest area next to a major highway!

Randy C.

 

Great stories guys :-)

 

I'd have to say all the driving I did in Oldsmobiles before I was even legally old enough to drive !.

Had a 70 D88 for like 3 years before I even had a license.

Drove it so much one week when my parents went away ... I have NO idea how I didn't get caught.
(significant added mileage)

Also drove my fathers 79 D88 on several occasions.

Once was when we were on a family outing a couple of hours from home in a place I had NEVER been before.

Joyriding around the neighborhood I almost didn't find my way back to my Aunt's house.

Another time was my 1st time in the snow.

Our driveway where I did most of my growing up had a fairly steep incline that could be a bitch in the winter. When things were bad ... street parking would become scarce on our street as well. So when he couldn't get up the driveway & street parking wasn't available ... my father would park around the corner on another side street.

One such time when I knew my father would be sleeping in before work ... I decided to go around the corner & take the car for a spin.

I actually behaved myself for the most part ...

I was more into trying out what I had picked up so far up from sitting in the passenger seat.

Didn't even go looking for an empty parking lot - no getting stuck - no close calls from anything reckless etc etc.

I was just enjoying the "hands on "of learning to drive in the snow more than anything.

Boy was I lucky no one else parked in that spot while I was out joyriding or that the spot got plowed.

Had something happened ...

I'd probably have special license plates &/or a placard hanging from my mirror to this day courtesy of my father.

Then again ...

There was the time I "snatched" my 70 D88 from in front of a local watering hole as my father sat inside ...

As he was really in no shape to take any car anywhere that evening - let alone mine.
(yet he did despite my repeated protests)

That was nice 3+ hour joyride & somehow I didn't end up with special plates &/or a placard for that.

The frantic panic of my mother when I walked in the house that the car "was stolen" was pretty priceless.
(my father had walked home by this point)

"Stolen ... what are you talking about ?".

"It's right out there in driveway"

 

Good ones guys! (Used to "make drapes" in the backseat of my Dad's 98 with jackets, coats, stadium blankets, anything I could find.. THANKFULLY, I STILL have that 98: it's a cream puff and still looks showroom new! Call her "Black Beauty!") GREAT memories indeed!!

Say, "LX89; thanks for starting this; and where you at in Iowa?? I'm in Davenport these days...

 

X 2 on the 'aroma'.

My car sat for ~ 18 years since I retired it in '91 after being hit. After not running and being shuttled from place to place (garages, brans, shed, yards,etc..) ...I was wondering what to do with it.

I hadn't had a motorcycle in a few years, all my friends had newer ones, and I had an itch. I stumbled across a mint '83 CB1100F and wanted it bad as it's always been one of my dream bikes (big Honda CB-F fan). My wife told me to get the bike, the car had to go.

I figured I'd better at least get it running & maybe driving before trying to sell it. So, I spent a few days checking/fixing things like a rotted brakeline, dead batt, changing juices, plugs,points, etc. and fired it up. After a few minutes of crazy amounts of blue,white,black,gray smoke it settled down to a nice burbling smokeless idle.

I slid in and took it (gingerly as the tires were 20+ years old) out around some country roads around me. I was very focused on any noises/oddities that might signal impending disaster.

After a bit, I relaxed.

While rolling along @ ~ 45mph on an empty country road on a beautiful fall day......with the combination of the THOSE smells, hearing THOSE sounds, the feel of THAT steering wheel, looking over THAT hood.... I briefly fell back in time.

I didn't get the bike....

 

Typing the above stirred a memory...

Back in the late 80's, a buddy & me met a couple of girls at a local party one summer night. They had to leave, but said we should come up later to where they were going to be - about 20 miles NW of Indy (Frankfort area for you hoosiers). We ran around a while and didn't head up there until ~ 10:30 PM.

Somewhere north of Indy on 421 while blasting along ~ 80 mph with the top down & tunes cranked, the right rear tire blew. I swam back & forth a couple of times as I whoa'd it down onto the right shoulder.

It was pitch black where we were. Nothing but farm fields. No other cars, no moon, and no lights anywhere.

We fumbled the jack & spare out in the darkness. This took forever - trying to do everything by feel as attempts to use lighters were foiled by the breeze.

Some time into the ordeal, while I was was spinning off the 2nd or 3rd lugnut, a pickup pulled up & stopped ~ 50 yards behind us.

Ahhhh, headlights !

The driver, a giant middle aged farm boy, walked up and asked (very loudly) how we were doing. We said "Fine...Thanks for the light!"

Then he asked us if we knew Jesus.

For the next <however many minutes/hours it took>, he yelled at us practically non-stop about us needing to accept Jesus and the benefits thereof.

Finally we dropped the jack, threw everything in the trunk, I told the guy "Thanks & take care", and we sped off.

But, we got lost...& never found the place we were supposed to...Ahh pre cell phone days...

 

I moved from San Fran area to Phoenix with my first '67 Cutlass 'Vert and a U-Haul trailer. Man that thing was a beater! The back seat was too small for any serious "cuddling" but the trunk lid is spacious and quite strong! We were pulling over once for some more "cuddling" and I over shot the turn off. I knocked over a stop sign and it landed on the hood. Damm that was funny! We took off but about a quarter mile down the road I tried to turn around to go back and get the stop sign and ended up getting stuck in the soft shoulder. The next vehicle to come by was 30 minutes later and they were gonna go around. It was a Dodge 3/4 ton with a Cummins, I walked out into the road and made them stop! It was an older couple and I asked them to simply pull us out, I had a chain ready so all they had to do was drive. They didn't even have to unbuckle their seat belts! They didn't appreciate me stopping them, but they finally did let me hook up my chain and pull us out. I never did get that stop sign!

 

Cruzing down the exact same road that Lou Gramm sang about in Foreigners famous song “rev it on the red line” looking for trouble. Found it. A 69 GTO vert with a 455 4 speed and good rumble. Chased him down a few stop lights. Finally all clear, gave the nod and we hit it. Second gear hit hard right next to him with enough rubber to fish the tail out a little (it’s an automatic). He grabbed second with rubber as well but I got him and walked away! Next stop light the Goat driver pulls up and says what the hell do you have in that thing. I said it’s a stock 68 442. He said dam I've put a ton of money into this goat and I just got beat by a stock Olds!....ok its warmed over a little. I recently ran into Lou (still a huge car guy) at a local car cruse and recanted this story. He just smiled and said now you see why we made the song. Yep!