D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
May 2005
D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
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Joy Rides
By Jeff Berg Who doesn't have a car story? Cars have become so ingrained in our way of life, especially in places like New Mexico, that it is nearly impossible, however tempting, to imagine life without a car. For some of us, the interest in our vehicles goes much further than just remembering something about a particular vehicle, such as the memory of my father selling my precious one-eyed 1959 Peugeot as punishment for substandard grades in high school. Take these folks, for example, who kindly agreed to share their stories about a special automobile in their lives:
Fred Waskowiak's Art Jeep Fred Waskowiak, a retired Bureau of Land Management employee who lives in Las Cruces, explains his "Art Jeep" simply: "I like to tinker." And tinker he does. The vehicle, a 1980 Jeep CJ 5, has been in his hands since 1997. It is covered with toys and trinkets and, in particular, shiny things. He says, "Anything that shines is apt to get screwed-on." Waskowiak points out some of the more obscure things on the Jeep. A former student at the University of Hawaii-Kaua'i, he affixed the initials "UHK" to the spare tire cover. "But it really stands for 'University of Hard Knocks,'" Waskowiak says with a smile. An old cow horn is labeled "The Horn of Dilemma." Logos and nameplates from numerous other vehicles adorn the Jeep, as do a small hairdryer and a couple of small fans. The NMSU Aggies are well represented by various items, such as a bullhorn. "It's always evolving," Waskowiak says. "As you monkey around with it, the ideas just come to you." Waskowiak's tinkering is clearly something he takes seriously. A riding lawn mower with some toys attached to it is another work in progress, and a motorcycle is also starting to show his joy of fiddling around with stuff. "Come over here," he says. I follow him up his driveway, past a tinkered bowling ball that now has a face and a miniature windmill made with old credit cards, scooter wheels and an Aggies license plate. Stepping around the side of his garage, Waskowiak proudly announces, "This is my art wall." The wall is partially covered with stencils of dinosaurs and galloping horses, and a few large plastic bugs. It also boasts a sort of coat of arms for "Clan Kaiwoksaw." "That's just my name spelled backwards," Waskowiak explains with a smile. I don't dare stand still around Waskowiak, since I might leave his home with a toy soldier glued to my forehead.
Doug and Karlene Colgan's Studebaker Avanti In their own words, the Colgans, who live in Silver City, tell the saga of their Studebaker Avanti, beginning with a little history lesson: "In the 1960s, Raymond Loewy and a team of four other designers designed the Avanti in only 40 days for the Studebaker Corp. The word 'Avanti' came from an Italian word meaning 'forward.' In the 1960s Studebaker was in financial trouble. The feeling of the president and board was that the Avanti would save the company from bankruptcy. It did not. Studebaker Avantis were produced only as 1963 and 1964 models. Studebaker moved to Canada and at that time Studebaker manufactured no more Avantis. "Here is the story of our (originally gold) 1963 Studebaker Avanti," Doug continues. "I am presently 65 years old and have owned the car since I was 33. From the time that they came out, I really wanted to own one. I thought that they were beautiful and well ahead of their time in features. When they were new, we really could not afford to own a new one with a young family. "We traded a 1969 Javelin for the car on Sept. 28, 1972, (one day after my birthday) and have owned it since. This car is an R2 with a four-speed transmission. The R2 means that it has a supercharger on it. This was a factory option. We used the car as a daily driver until about 1977. At that time we quit driving the car and parked it in a 100-year-old granary on the banks of the Alsea River for about 14 years. "Around 1991 I decided that I would do a frame-off restoration. It took another three years to get the bodywork detailed and the engine completely rebuilt. I did all the body work myself as it is all fiberglass and pretty easy to detail. Once the engine was completed, I had a very good painter located in Philomath, Ore., paint the entire car, a color called Ford Electric Red. The interior of the car is still the original leather that came in the car. The only major change to the car is the color of the paint. Upon completion of the entire rebuild, Karlene and our youngest son and I, along with my brother, his wife and his 1956 Ford Thunderbird, drove to a huge car show called Hot August Nights in Reno, Nev. This was about a 700-mile drive from our home in Oregon. Everything went well and we got lots of thumbs up while in Reno. "When we moved to Silver City, we joined the Copper Country Cruizers. We drive the Avanti to car shows, as we bought the car to drive and be seen. Our car is considered a 'driver' as we drive it to every show that it goes to. The only time it was on a car hauler was when I towed it from Oregon to Silver City, and when it broke down in Las Vegas." Avantis have been in production on and off over the years since Studebaker closed. The name has been sold several times, ceasing production in the 1990s but starting up again about five years ago. You can purchase a new one from the Georgia-based company, for, oh, $75,000-$125,000. The current Avanti is available only as a convertible, and for 2005, the car is now being built on a Ford platform with a Ford drive train. But they will never be the same as the originals. Just ask the Colgans.
Rex Muncrief's Redneck Cadillac Rex Muncrief, who is a buyer for Bravo Chevrolet in Las Cruces, thinks he was born 100 years too late. His clothes, replicas of real vintage cowboy wear, and his physical appearance back up that feeling. So does the motif of the extra bedroom of his house, which is very much a memorial to lifelong idol Roy Rogers, and includes a video copy of Roy's last, very unusual movie, an atypical contemporary Western called Macintosh and TJ, which was made in the 1970s. But one thing that Muncrief could not have done 100 years ago was to have his "Redneck Cadillac," which was once a 1968 Chevy Pickup. "This truck has been in my mind since I was six years old," Muncrief says. Dale Robertson, an actor most noted for his appearances in television Westerns, once was on a promotional tour with a Cadillac convertible that boasted a Western decor. The car and Robertson came to the Gateway Motor Co., in Carlsbad, NM, where Muncrief lived while growing up, and that was all the incentive he needed. "In 1985, I paid $300 for this truck, which was running on seven of its eight cylinders. It was a total wreck. It had rats' nests under the seats; it was covered with dirt, leaves and grime. For some reason, both the doors were caved in, and when I asked the old-timer that owned it said that those were the 'brakes.'" It seems that in order to stop the truck he would open both doors, and drive it between two trees, which functioned as the "brakes." "The dashboard had so many layers of dirt on it, that it looked brand-new when I scraped all of them off." Muncrief and his late brother, Tub, put in a new engine in 1987. Except for that and having Tub's assistance in painting it, Muncrief built this amazing machine by himself. He has spent only $6,500 doing so. "People have given me all sorts of stuff to put on it," Muncrief says, as he points out a variety of badges from law-enforcement offices from around the country that are pinned on the inside of the cab. Coins are used to cover the top of each nut and bolt ("the oldest one is probably a 1879 Buffalo head nickel"), and all of the tiny nicks and dents are covered with bullet-hole decals. Several other car fanciers weren't too fond of Rex's work, until he was able to convey to them that the truck could do a quarter-mile in 12.73 seconds. Others were impressed because it runs on "straight pipes," sans muffler. "It's noisy," Muncrief says without a twinge of guilt. The truck also boasts a variety of tiny lights—80 on the undercarriage alone—that illuminate it in a fanciful way. This helped make points with lowrider owners. The interior light, which works, is a small lantern. Although he does attend some car shows around New Mexico, Texas and Oklahoma, and has won more than 75 trophies, Muncrief still uses his "Cadillac" as a regular vehicle. He is also a member of Christian Rods and Customs, an international organization that has a chapter in Las Cruces. "I drive it to work every Friday, sometimes go cruising on weekends, and take it to church every Sunday," he says. Which may help explain a Biblical reference on a back corner of the truck, Psalm 100:1, which in part reads, "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord." Another eye-catching feature, besides the old metal tractor seats that replaced the original seats, the eight-track player and the ancient dial phone ("it works") in the truck, is the woodwork. Much of the wood that Muncrief has used to customize the truck comes from the family farm where he grew up in Carlsbad. He feels that the use of the wood helps tell his family history. "I'll never sell it," he says. "The truck is my family background. I'll never need a psychiatrist, since I have this truck. All I have to do is sit in it to get peace of mind."
Janet Colville's Mel-Van On the other hand, Janet Colville of Las Cruces recently sold her "joy ride." Sold on eBay to a California buyer was her long-time friend, Mel-Van, a 1962 double-door Volkswagen Camper Conversion Van. "A 59-'I'm going through a mid-life crisis'-year-old woman bought him," Colville says. "Her husband was delighted it would not be an expensive lawn ornament. She plans to keep him 'as is,' bumper-sticker wise, except for any she disagrees with, but wanted to know if there were any Bush stickers on it. I said 'yes' (pause), anti-Bush. She sighed in relief." Apparently the new owner won't mind being a motorized billboard for almost every liberal cause that has come up in the last 20 years or so. The body of Colville's affectionately named Mel -Van is covered with hundreds of bumper stickers, and has Our Lady of Guadalupe painted on its top. Colville and VW vans have a checkered history together. "In the 1970's, my husband, Bill, and I bought a VW, but it wouldn't fit in our garage. So we added new tires and sold it," she says. But the longing for such a vehicle did not subside, and they found another one in a wrecking yard in Boulder, Colo., near where they lived at the time. "We rescued it in 1986." For many years she would commute with Mel-Van to her bookkeeping job in Denver, and in the summers, the couple would use it for camping trips. After retirement, they hit the road, exploring the western US, sometimes for months at a time. Mel-Van also used to travel the VW Show circuit, and often won awards for traveling the longest distance to be at a particular show. "We started putting the stickers on in 1998. Partially it was whimsy, but also it was because we saw stickers on other cars that made us angry." She doesn't know how many bumper stickers are on the vehicle. "Hundreds," she says, "but I was afraid to put any more on it." She adds, "One time when we were traveling in Tennessee, we almost got into trouble. We have a pro-hemp sticker somewhere on the van; it caught the eye of a cop who was heading in the other direction. He immediately got behind us and pulled us over. But the minute he saw me, he knew he had made a mistake. But by then he had even called for backup and a police dog." She tried to explain her discomfort at being pulled over by telling the cop, "I bought new underwear, and they were crawling up on me!" In fact, she was more angry than anxious, and even more so when a line of city, state and county police cars soon lined up behind Mel-Van. Mel-Van was semi-retired until he found his new home, since Bill Colville passed away recently, and Janet was not physically able to drive the van. And what about the vehicle's name? "Mel-Van" came with the van, she explains. "That's what the previous owner had named it, and that is also what the license plate said. We were always too cheap to get a vanity plate for him, but the name stuck."
Paul Blevins' Hupmobiles Some cars need a lot of help in getting back on the road, such as Paul Blevins' 1935 Hupmobiles. Blevins, the operator of the Mesilla Valley Book Center in Mesilla, is the owner of two of the rare 1935 527-T Hupmobiles. Only 902 were built, and only 14 are known to still exist. New Mexico is close to cornering the market on them, as two others can be found in the J&R Vintage Auto Museum, located in Rio Rancho, just outside of Albuquerque. Similar to Muncrief's childhood dream, Blevins had automotive aspirations from an early age. "I was seven years old when I first saw the Hupmobile that my great uncle, Del Hazard, owned. I remember saying that I wanted it that same day." But Blevins became resigned to waiting, as his Uncle Del, a violinmaker by trade, used the car, which he'd bought in 1940, until his semi-retirement in 1966. The car had at least 200,000 miles on it. "He towed a camping trailer with him, traveling around, making, repairing and playing violins. He ended up in the Silver City area, and ended up working as a bouncer for awhile in Bayard. He was 70 years old then, but he was fired for throwing patrons out before opening the door! He later moved to Deming, where we all pitched in and built a house for him in three or four days." The Hupmobile was towed to Deming, where it sat on Del Hazard's property until he died in 1980, at the age of 86. The next day, Blevins towed the car back to Mesilla, where it sat in storage until about a year ago. "I had to build a new building for storage," he says, "since it took me several days to find the car under all the stuff I had piled on it." Hupmobiles were built from 1909 through 1940, when the company closed due to slow sales and the impending war. The company's philosophy during those years was to build a dependable car for the "working man." Hups found themselves near the front lines of World War I, and nearly 500,000 were built and sold over the years, A workers' strike in 1937 resulted in few, if any, of the cars being built, and sales never recovered once the strike was resolved. Both of Blevins' Hupmobiles are works in progress, and he hopes to be able to do all the restoration work himself. In the past, he has restored a 1973 VW Bug, and he is also working on a 1963 Chevy pickup. His second Hup was purchased from a seller in Washington state. Partially restored, the car was shipped on a tractor-trailer, and the driver apparently used every opportunity to showcase the not-quite-restored Hup, as it took 10 days for him to get to Mesilla from the great northwest. Ironically, Blevins' brother saw the car in person before he did, in Pueblo, Colo. "He called me up to ask me if the car was on its way, and then described it to me as he looked at it in a parking lot in Pueblo." While cleaning up one of the Hupmobiles, Blevins found an old buffalo nickel stuck under a seat. "I was hoping that it would be one of the rare ones, so I could sell it and use the money to fix up the car. I could have said I restored the car for a nickel!" But it turned out to be worth only $5. A New Mexico native, Blevins was raised in Los Alamos. He has a few more projects waiting for him, after he finishes the Hups. "I went to the village of Mesilla's auction recently, and was the only person there. I get some great deals at those, since no one ever shows up." This time was no exception: Blevins bought three recently retired village police cars for the grand total of $10. Two are of 1992 vintage, and the third is from 1994. "I even drove two of them home," he says happily. Blevins' wife, Cheryll, rolls her eyes and goes back to working on her computer.
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