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A friend recently bought an enclosed trailer from another member so as to be ready for the upcoming race season and I was amazed at the changes in car transport in just the last few years. I guess that it’s really no different that the changes in the cars that we tow. Years ago the plan was always to drive to the event, take all the stuff out of the car, tape up the front lights and go. I was never really clear about the tape part because I never saw any headlights broken by flying rocks but it looked cool and besides you could drive home with the tape on the car just to prove that you had a racecar. Of course if the car broke at the event getting it home was always a challenge. That was why everyone that I knew had a rope or a chain in the trunk. Early cars with cosmetic bumpers didn’t like tow ropes at all as the bumpers were somewhat lower than the bottom of the car. When the rope was tied to the underside of the car, applying tension to the rope, as in pulling away, brought the rope to bear on the bottom of the bumper. It was sorta like jacking up the car using only the bumper. In nothing flat the bumper supports would bend and the bumper was looking at the sky. The ends were pointed at the ground like the ears of a scolded dog and the whole car had the look of a tow job. Of course that was assuming that there was something solid to hook to on the greasy side of the car. I know that all Porsches have front tow hooks but that’s like saying that all Porsches have jacks. Yes, it has one but you really shouldn’t use it. I learned that lesson as a freshman in college. A classmate’s 356 had died on one of the campus roads and needed to be dragged to the student parking which was about two miles from any building, or so it seemed. The car was about ten years old as I remember and the tin worms had been at work for some time. A healthy Studebaker Lark spit out a chain with a mean looking hook in the end and the rescue was started before the campus police could show up. The trouble was that the chain had no give to it like a rope did and as the Lark pulled away so did part of the bottom of the Porsche. Of course the fun didn’t stop there as there was a 6-volt battery nesting in the nose of the car right above the tow hook. When the panel disappeared the battery fell out but not before the little coupe had started to roll. The battery was attached to the car by the ground strap and the positive lead so it wasn’t really leaving. However, a ten-inch tall battery getting run over by a car with four inches of ground clearance is not a pretty sight. A tow lesson learned never to be forgotten. Don’t use the tow hook and don’t ever use a chain unless the car is on a one-way trip to the bone yard. Other tows have been more successful and even record setting. In the years before Homeland Security, some law enforcement officials were even helpful when it came to disabled cars. The police in Carlisle MA were especially helpful one rainy night when I passed through their quaint little town in a 356 SC parts car. That 356 was too rusty to repair but it had a very robust engine in it that I couldn’t wait to unplug. The car was picked up and a bunch of parts were thrown in as part of the deal. They included a couple of steel rims that I really didn’t want but I think the PO was trying to remove any trace of the car from his (or his wife’s) life and insisted that I take them. They were placed on the floor on the passenger side. The car was hard to start, sorta like it didn’t really want to leave, but with a jump from another car sitting in the yard it sprang to life. As I rolled through Carlisle the little rat died at a stop sign just as the local cop went by in the other direction. My tow/assist vehicle kept on going, as was the plan when there were police involved (strange how the plates on both cars were the same). Why risk additional violations by hanging around? The lights were flashing and my heart sinking as the police car pulled up behind me in the rain. He got out, I got out. I explained the car hadn’t run in a while, and the battery was too low to turn it over. Between the lights and the wipers it was probably using more juice that the engine was making. He asked me if I wanted him to give me a push with the squad car? A push is as good as a tow any day. I pointed out that the bumpers didn’t really match that well, but it didn’t really matter to me. So the huge chrome bumper of the LTD nuzzled up against the illegal plate on the back of the bathtub and off we went. It fired to life and with a wave to the cop I was down the ramp and onto Route 128. That wasn’t the end of the tale as I caught up with the assist car on the highway. I guess I never realized how rusty that 356 really was until I hit a good bump at highway speed. The rims on the passenger side floor bounced up with enough force that when they came down they kept going until they hit the pavement. To be fair only the front of the floor let go so the portion of the rim closest to the nose of the car hit the ground like a snowplow blade hitting dry pavement. Even with the wet pavement and steady drizzle the sparks filled the inside of the car in an instant. I thought something had exploded, and this was before 9/11. I didn’t dare stop for fear that the car would die, so I just leaned over and hauled both rims onto the passenger seat. The fun with these cars just never stops. On a PCA rally that ended in Wheelwright MA, the VW poptop camper that we were driving finally breathed its last in a huge puff of oil smoke. It wasn’t a big loss as I now had a 356 SC engine in the garage just waiting to replace the now lump of metal in the back of the bus. But we were easily a hundred miles from home and it was getting dark. Ed and Pam Sanborn had just joined our merry little band of Porsche pushers with their first 914, a ’70 1.7 liter, and they quickly volunteered. Tow it back home? Sure, no problem. Tow it down the Mass. Turnpike in the dark? No problem. Tow it at 70 mph with the towrope hooked from the center of the bus to the left corner of the 914? Now that’s a problem. Every time tension was applied to the rope it made the little 914 want to turn left. Ed spent the better part of two hours steering in the direction of the skid just like he was taught in twelfth grade driving class. Except he had a four thousand pound bus with drum brakes fifteen feet behind him that wasn’t backing off an inch. The folks on the turnpike didn’t think it was a problem and neither did we. Imagine trying that today, you would never get past the tollbooth. I don’t want to leave you thinking that we never had a trailer. We did, but they were never anything but castoffs. They were two wheeled contraptions called utility trailers, where utility meant nothing over 500 pounds, or construction rigs with hitches heavier that the car we were moving. Just getting a car on and off without damage was considered a victory. Modern day trailers are nicer and better equipped that some houses I’ve lived in. Amazing how things improve as the years go by, but I bet that today’s folks aren’t left with the great stories that we have from those adventures of years gone by. What are they going to talk about when they get old? The time the lights failed in the trailer and they had to cook in the microwave using only a flashlight? KTF |
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