Quote History Quoted:Those late 60s early 70s vans were great. I had a 65 Ford Econoline for a long time. Bought it in LA at a power company auction. It was the first auction I ever went to - I was so nervous the auctioneer had to tell me at one point I'd just bid against myself.
LOTS of trips to the desert, slept many a night in it. Not customized at all. Many years in SoCal with it. When I brought it to NH, it completely disintegrated within a few years from the salt. With the mid engine, I could sit inside it and work on the engine while it was raining outside. Or if it was running hot to/from the desert, pop the engine cover up and slowly pour water on the radiator fins while driving along.
I remember seeing that same Frazetta art on a van somewhere. Maybe even the same van.
View Quote
Yep. I had an old Econoline. Bought it, old, cheap and well-used around 1981, to haul building materials for my first house. Then used it to haul dirt bikes. Camped in it. Drove it everywhere for about 3 years.
When we'd drink in it, we'd just toss the cans in the back. Go around a corner and the wave of beer cans sloshed from one side to the other until I'd clean it out.
When the choke cable broke, I'd start it on cold mornings by unhooking the doghouse and slipping it back a bit so I could reach over and work the choke by hand. Got to where I never bothered latching the doghouse again. Drove while watching the road go by under me.
Had an ignition problem, so pulled the switch and just left it dangling by the wires.
One day, hauling a couple street bikes from PA to Florida, the key to the locking gas cap (let's be honest, the gas was the most valuable part of the truck) fell through the gap in the doghouse and was never seen again. I had to hammer a screwdriver into the locking gas cap and wrench the damn thing off so I could refill.
Heading towards Talahassee, I realized I was driving through backwoods Georgia in a hot-wired, bright red van with a violated locking gas cap and PA plates. I started working on how I'd clearly explain myself to Buford T. Justice when he stopped me.
Driving into Waycross, I went to shift, heard a snap and the clutch pedal went to the floor. Continued through town as slow as possible without stalling or stopping, looking for a garage. Saw a Ford dealer so I steered in, pulled it out of gear and coasted to a stop.
It was about 5:20 and the two mechanics were just leaving. I explained what happened, and they pushed me into the garage, lifted the front end till we heard the bikes slide against the back doors, and welded up the linkage for me.
It was done in less than a half-hour and they wouldn't take payment for it (they said they were off the clock), but I forced enough cash on them to buy a case of beer and headed out again.
Made it to Florida. A buddy was in school there and I gave him one of the bikes and the title to the van. We rode the bikes all over FLA for 2-3 weeks and I told him to take the van to a junkyard for whatever cash they'd give him, then I headed north to the Buffalo MEPS and headed for the Navy.
A couple years later, I was home on leave and my old man gave me a stack of mail. Included was a letter from the City of Talahassee saying my van had been impounded. (Turned out my buddy never had time to take it to a junkyard and it got towed.) It said if I didn't pick it up and pay $XX/day storage, it would be junked.
I didn't even bother figuring out what the storage fee would be after two years. I just accepted that the beast was gone.
I knew I'd gotten my money's worth!