Reply #103: 1974 Chevy Vega, maroon.

[Philostopher]

It already had 81k miles on it (and only three operational cylinders) when my pop sort of let me 'inherit' it to learn to drive. The thing had been badly wrecked (sideswiped during an ice storm, shoved over the top of a fire hydrant while it was sitting still, outside where Dad worked in downtown Cincinnati) and always pulled to the right; my friends used to tease me it was dowsing for the water in the ditch. Couldn't get it over 50 miles an hour, or the quivering would snap your neck. It only had an AM radio, so we used to drive around with a tape player hanging off the rearview mirror. The driver's side rearview fell off at around 50k miles and Dad never replaced it -- to this day, I still turn my head and look behind the driver's side of the car when I back up, even though that was 20 years ago. The undercarriage was so rusted out, the battery had to be secured to the front end with baling twine. Oh, yeah -- and it had cancer holes on one side you could stick your head all the way in.

I loved that car.