1950 Chevrolet Pick-up Truck. Pulled into a Gas station in Kingman, Arizona and the gas attendant said he like my newly acquired 68 Oldsmobile 88 Convertible...I said it was a great car but I'd wanted a truck...he said he had one for sale, did I want to look at it as he was leaving work shortly and I could follow him home.

An hour or so later and a few beers too, I bought the truck. It was called 'Old Red' (his hunting gun was called 'Old Blue'). It was a non runner but I said I would send some money over to get it fixed up so that it would run.

I paid a surprise visit about a year later only to find out the guy he used to do the work was an alcoholic (unknown to me), and he drank the money I'd sent over so no work was done to the truck.

I hung around a week or so while the work was done, living in their mobile home on the trailer park in the desert.

Eventually the trick was ready, I said my goodbyes and left for California. I must have got about 50 miles down the road before the truck broke down, the fuel filter was blocked. I fixed it and set off again, only for it to happen again, and again until eventually the battery was dead and there was nothing I could do but leave the car on the side of the road and hitch a ride back to Kingman. He'd never cleaned out the fuel tank and it was thick with desert dust and crap that had sat in that tank for years.

The next day we went to pick up the car with a tow truck, had it trailed back to his place. He had a 70's Ford F1 for sale also, so I told him to give me the Ford, he could fix the Chevy and I'd sell the Ford and be back for the Chevy...I drove the Ford to Los Angeles and never went back to Kingman for the truck.