That first right-of-passage, a mammoth trip between high school and university, was something four of us planned. Two dropped out early, opting university was important immediately, while two of us decided it could wait. What’s one more year in the lifetime of a 19 or 20-year-old? About six weeks into the trip, the little tiffs and arguments had escalated to the point of no return and a final blowout prompted Murray to head to Vancouver by plane and I made the long trip home in a car with virtually no brakes.
The 1965 Rambler American, the Red Rocket, lasted a few years after my return, providing me transportation to university. I worked in the electrical industry so had customers able to supply me with needed parts – parts like steel plates welded in where the rear shocks came up through the floor of the trunk. The brakes never did work properly they were beyond all knowledge and technology available to man. The Red Rocket took its rightful place in the wrecker’s yard.