Corpus Christi, TX

High speed, low drag.

That was the game plan.  Get to Corpus Christi as fast as we could, do business, spend the night, turn around and get back as fast as we can.  I had planned for everything that I could, hedged against Murphy as best as I could and I had packed everything I needed to work on either the Lincoln or the Daytona if either should break down.  

The Lincoln I had total faith in.

The Daytona was still the unknown ... the promising unknown.

I got up early Saturday morning, around 5am.  I figured it would be about a twelve hour drive so I wanted to get on the road as soon as possible.  Showered, shaved, dressed in some casual to nice clothes (khakis, loafers, button up shirt).  While Cindy is getting her shower and getting ready I go over my list again, making sure that I have everything packed.  We get away around a quarter to six.

Cindy knows nothing other than we are going out of town, together, and will be spending the night somewhere.

I'm really hoping to get into Louisiana and to a Cracker Barrel before she figures anything out.  If I can get some breakfast in her, and some coffee then my chances of making it through the discovery and disclosure part of today increases dramatically.

It doesn't work out that way.

I make it from Columbia, MS to Osyka, MS ... a distance of about sixty miles from home, before my wife figures things out.  She probably would have figured it out sooner but like I said I was depriving her of caffeine and she's not a morning person (especially an early morning person) so ... I thought I could get away with it.

We're passing the Osyka MDOT Enforcement scales office on my left.  I point out the scales office to her and remind her that the Osyka office was where I had to travel to, from my office in Hattiesburg,  on several occasions in order to set up a video security system.  As Cindy is looking across me, out the driver's side window as we're passing Osyka, she notices the arrival time stamp on the Garmin NUVI ... 3:47PM.

She asks me about this and asks if that is the correct time that we are going to arrive where we are going.

I tell her yes ... and keep driving.

She asks where we are going, says that she knows that it is out of state because of the estimated time of arrival ...

I try to avoid the question.  I'm about twenty miles from a Cracker Barrel.  So close ...

"Where are we going?" she asks.

I relent because I figure if I tell her where we're going I still don't have to tell her why.

"Corpus Christi, Texas." I say.

"I've never been to Corpus Christi!" Cindy instantly replies excitedly.

"I've never been to Corpus Christi, either!  We're on an adventure!" I tell her.

There's a look of shock on her face and then this other look comes across her face ... and I know that look.  That is my wife's expression she gets when she has me figured out and she has deciphered, decoded and deduced anything I might be keeping from her.

I hate that look because it is basically a "game over" look.

"Are we going to pick up a car?" she asks flatly.

Oh, God ... I am now living on borrowed time.

This is where, I think, that what may happen in the next few seconds could be a pretty good scene for a splatter horror movie.  The husband turns to the wife, admits to taking her to another state to pick up a car that he has bought, off the Internet, all without her knowing, without discussing it with her, and he did it while she was gone to a teacher's convention for three days leaving him alone ... Given that, we fade to a view of the rear of the car travelling down the highway.  There is a loud, angry growl, a man screaming, blood splatters the interior windows and the car swerves crazily as more screams come from the husband.  There is the sound of flesh ripping and bones snapping and then the car settles out and we hear the devil-possessed wife laughing manically as the car disappears on down the road.

Thankfully the next few seconds don't pan out like that because I married well.  Cindy is a hell of a woman and an even heller of a wife, if "heller" can be a descriptive adjective (and I'll make it one in this case).

"Are we going to pick up a car?" she asks again and I notice that she's not angry ... she's not even mad ... she's just ... curious.

An eternity passes, or maybe three seconds, all three of which seem to be an eternity.

"Yes." I finally say.

And then my wife impresses me.

"It's okay!" Cindy says.  "It's okay if we're going to pick up a car.  I trust you."

And like that everything is okay.  I take the next few minutes to explain to her how the deal went down.  I have her look at my paperwork including several pictures of the Daytona that I printed out.  After a thorough explanation, she has a few concerns.

How am I paying for this?

I got a loan for the car.  Everything, the trip to get the car, the car itself, as well as a cushion in case there is a problem with either my Lincoln or the Daytona during the trip ... all of this is planned for and taken care of.  This puts Cindy at ease since she was worried that she would have to get creative rearranging funds between our bank accounts to cover my latest crazy adventure.

Relieved of the financial worry of the adventure, Cindy is left only with the concern that the Daytona will make it back home from Texas.  I tell her that I trust John, he's been the definition of full disclosure and I feel that, given what type of car my old '86 Dodge Daytona Turbo-Z was like, the '89 should be a good car, especially if it's a one owner, garage kept example of the breed.

Cindy trusts me and after we talk about the Daytona for a while (and I explain how I did all of this without her knowing) we settle down into my favorite part of being with her ... talking.  When we're together, alone, we just mesh and talk and that's when I know, that's when I'm reminded, of why I fell in love with this woman and even more of why I married her nineteen years ago.

Cindy is looking forward to spending the rest of the day and night with me, alone, just the two of us.  She's excited that I've sort of kidnapped her in order to share with her my passion for high performance cars and to spend time with her.  I explain that while I want the Daytona that the chance to spend time with her is just as important (maybe more so) than the Dodge itself.

Cindy is still concerned that the Daytona may give us problems on the way home.  I tell her that I have no such fear, that I trust John and that he's given me no reason to believe that the Dodge isn't what he claims it is.  Given that, I fully believe that the Dodge will make the trip from Corpus Christi, TX to Columbia, MS without any problems at all.

Fifteen minutes later we've left Mississippi behind and entered Louisiana.  We find a Cracker Barrel  in Hammond, LA.  Cindy is still excited about the trip and the chance to spend time together.  We have a leisurely breakfast then get back on the road.

The rest of the trip is pretty uneventful ... it is even boring to a large degree.  I've been to Texas before, it was almost thirty years earlier and I don't remember it being so ... flat ... and boring.  Once you get out of Louisiana two things cease to exist ... the color green and hills / curves.  You don't realize how much you miss the color green or how much you miss hills and curves until you get into Texas where everything is this kind of tannish orange and flat.

Boring.

Twenty-two years ago a good friend of mine left Hattiesburg headed back to Corpus Christi.  We didn't keep in touch after that, back in the days before the Internet, before Email and Google and Facebook let you keep in touch almost effortlessly ...  Now I'm traveling the same roads he did.  I'm following in his footsteps ... twenty-two years later.  It feels strange, like I'm following a ghost.  Things change so much so quickly that I wonder if what I'm seeing while I'm driving is what he once saw.

Probably not.

There is a very long bridge in LA near the Texas state line.  It is like 14 miles long, built above swamp and wetlands.  It is a boring bridge, a marvel of engineering, but a boring bridge nonetheless.  Traffic is stacked up almost at a dead standstill on the inbound lane.  I hope it won't be that way tomorrow on the return trip.

We make Texas.

I fill up the Lincoln at a small town and we decide to get lunch.  There's a Whataburger and Cindy wants to try that.  I eat at Whataburger a lot in Gulfport when I'm on the road for my job.  Cindy has never been to Whataburger.  The place is packed, people are even standing outside in line.  We go to a Jack's instead, just down the street.  I haven't eaten at Jack's since it used to be called "Jack in the Box" and that was probably 1976 when I lived in Jackson and there was still a chain called "Burger Chef" as well.

I haven't seen a "Burger Chef" in decades ... not even sure if it still exists as a chain.

Cindy has never eaten at a Jack's either.

We're on an adventure.

After a quick lunch we got back on the road and made pretty good time.  Some areas of Texas are speed rated at 75mph.  They need to be because a lot of these areas look pretty much like this ... all the way to the horizon.  Once you reach the horizon, the road might ... might ... bend one way or the other gently and then it's another straight shot to the horizon.

That's the road to Corpus Christi.

Flat.  Boring ... and it's like that most of the way.  Once you leave Louisiana, this is what Texas looks like if you hug the panhandle and head southwest.

Getting close ... late in the afternoon, sometime about 4:30pm.  There may be 30 minutes left in the trip now, if we don't make any more stops.

My plan for the evening was to find John's apartment, purchase the Shelby, find a good steakhouse, get a good meal, find the hotel that I'd reserved, get some much deserved sleep and head back first thing in the morning.

High speed, low drag.

It went pretty much according to plan ... pretty much.

John's apartment wasn't that hard to find though his exact apartment eluded me.  I stood in the apartment complex parking lot and called him again on the cell phone, letting him know that we were there and asking where his apartment was in the unit.  I was within fifty feet of his front door and the garage was connected to his apartment.  Basically all I had to do was turn around a little and I was facing his apartment.  He told me to walk around to the garage, it was open, and the '89 Dodge Daytona Shelby was parked there.

Garage kept.

It was the moment of truth.

I held Cindy's hand, walking with her.  We rounded the corner of the garage and ... there the Daytona was.  The Flash Red 1989 Dodge Daytona Shelby in all of her 25 year old glory.  

T-tops.

2.2 liter SOHC Turbo II intercooled, turbocharged, port fuel injected four cylinder.

Heavy duty 5 speed manual transmission with overdrive and Getrag gear set.

Heavy duty suspension.

Heavy duty competition ready four wheel disc brakes.

15 inch aluminum "pumper" wheels.

A quick look at the car told me that John had not lied about the condition of the car and I began to feel a lot better about the deal.  Cindy was impressed with the condition of the Daytona as well.

John and his wife joined us in the garage, we introduced ourselves, shook hands, made pleasantries and started to talk about the Daytona.  After a few minutes, John handed me the keys to the car and I opened her up, hood, trunk, doors, giving her a good looking over.  Everything seemed to be just as John had told me and just as I had seen in the pictures that he sent me.

John asked me if I wanted to take the Daytona for a test drive.

I did.

If this Dodge drove anything like she looked then I was going to be very happy with all that I'd been through so far to get to this very moment in time.

Cindy and John's wife went back into their apartment while John and I got in the Daytona.  I pushed in the clutch and fired up the Turbo II engine.  It started easy and idled like it was factory brand new.  I took a minute or two to familiarize myself with the interior of the '89 Daytona which was both very familiar to me and very different as well.  It wasn't just the quarter century gap in my memory, this Daytona had options that my '86 Turbo-Z hadn't so I had to get used to buttons being in slightly different places than I remembered them being 25 years ago.

My eyes and fingers glided over the driver's door controls, the gauges, the center console, radio, CD player ... it all came rushing back ... 25 years ago I had a turbo Dodge and now I was about to have one again.

Satisfied that everything was good for a test drive, I pushed the clutch pedal in, lifted on the reverse lockout ring on the shifter, shifted the 5 speed manual all the way to the right and down, felt the transmission engage gears, then let slowly off the clutch.  The Daytona backed out of the garage effortlessly and without even a hint of drama.  I shifted from reverse to first gear, gave the 25 year old turbo Dodge a little gas and John and I were on our way to my first test drive.

I'd been wanting to be in the driver's seat of this particular Daytona for nine days now and here I was, following John's directions on when to turn, what roads to take and me just rowing through the gears and being 25 years younger.

I remember when this car ... when these cars ... were brand new ... sitting on the show room floor of the local Dodge dealership in Hattiesburg, MS and now here I was driving something that I'd wished I could have driven brand new way back then.  I've always loved the turbo Dodges ... the Daytonas and especially the Turbo-Zs and the Shelbys in particular.

This Daytona does not disappoint.  In fact, it inspires confidence in everything ... steering, braking, shifting, acceleration.  Everything on the Daytona works with the exception of the air conditioning but I'll survive.  I've got T-tops, an option my '86 Turbo-Z did not have.  As long as the car is as mechanically sound as it looks I should make it back to Columbia with no problem.  The transmission shifts smoothly.  The engine revs effortlessly.  There is the hint of whine from the turbo as it spools up ... oh, how I've missed that particular noise.

John and I talked as I drove.  We probably went ten miles around that part of Corpus Christi and a few times I gave the Daytona a good blowing out.  Everything on the Daytona worked and worked smoothly, except the air conditioning.  Texas has a lot of heat but it's a dry heat, not the humid heat like in Mississippi, heat that will have you soaking wet within ten minutes of being out in it.  

Texas heat is just ... hot.  

You're uncomfortable to a certain degree but you're not really uncomfortable.  Mississippi heat, with its high humidity index, is pretty much as unforgiving as it is rude and if you're not used to it then Mississippi heat is oppressive.

After a really good shake down test drive and having checked everything that John said was wrong with the Daytona I decide to buy it.  John and I return to his apartment, we go inside where our wives have been chatting for the last twenty minutes and John and I do business.  

The original note from the old bank arrived today in the mail and John gives it to me.  I give him two documents my bank wants him to sign and get notarized.  He says that he will mail them to me as soon as he can.

Papers are signed, cash is traded and John gives me the keys to the Daytona.  I put the paperwork all together and the four of us go back out into the parking lot for some photos.  I can tell John is sad about selling the Daytona ... after all, he bought it brand new, he's taken care of it for the last 25 years and now he's selling it to its second owner.  I feel honored and privileged to be taking possession of this Daytona.  It's going to make a change of owners, a seven hundred mile return trip to Columbia, MS and then it's going to live in my garage right next to my black and silver 2004 Honda CBR600RR sportbike and my black and gold 1986 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am.

This Daytona will NOT sit outside in the elements.

As Cindy got in the Lincoln and I backed the Daytona out John remembered that he had one more part for me to take with me ... the original factory louvers for the Daytona.  This presented a problem ... the louvers were huge and wouldn't fit in the trunk of either the Daytona or the Lincoln.  I told John to just mail me the louvers along with the paperwork I needed and for an instant there he had the look of a man who believed me.  Laughing and assuring him I was joking, I had a tough decision ahead of me ... take the louvers, if I could, and possibly never put them on the car ever again (thus not really needing them in the first place) or leave them here and let John just dispose of them.  Being what I am when it comes to cars, I figured that I had to take the louvers with me because if and when I did want to put them on the Daytona I'd probably find that a set of factory louvers would probably cost me the GNP of a small third world country if I had to get them off of Ebay or somewhere else so I told John that I'd take the louvers.

We tried the trunk of the Lincoln ... there was no room at all.

Then I had an idea ... put the louvers in the back seat of the Lincoln.  John had doubts but he helped me walk the louvers over to the Lincoln.  I opened the rear driver's side door, shoved the louvers in, put them flat to an angle and shut the door.  Cindy could see out the back window fine, the louvers took up most of the back seat but since it was only the two of us (and only her driving the Lincoln back) ... no problem.  John looked at how easy the louvers fit into the back seat of the Lincoln.

"I didn't see that coming." he mused.

Yeah, thank God for big cars like the Lincoln with deep trunks and big back seats.

Here's a picture of John, me and the '89 Daytona changing hands.

After shaking hands with John and thanking him again for letting me add this particular Daytona to my garage Cindy and I said our goodbyes and left, headed for Niko's Steakhouse a few miles away.  The food was pretty good and after dinner is when the fun began ...

It was late, we were in separate cars, we were tired ... and we couldn't find our hotel!

There it was, about 9pm, and Garmin couldn't tell me where my motel was.  I put in the street address and Garmin went nuts.  Ditto for Android and Google.  We drove around for an hour on the outskirts of Corpus Christi looking for what seemed to be a non-existent motel (even though I had reservations and a printout of the reservations).  We stopped and asked for directions.

Three times.

Each time it seemed that we were in the wrong part of town or that we had passed it.  We eventually found the motel, located on a service road beside the highway, a service road that was blocked off and hard to get to.  It was aggravation with little reward.

All in all, it took us nearly two hours to find our hotel.  That's right, nearly two hours.  I'd have just cancelled the reservation and checked in somewhere else if I hadn't been about to lose $100 for doing that.

We checked in around 11pm that night, unloaded our bags, got showers and fell into bed.  Cindy warned me not to wake her early like I had this morning.  When I told her that we needed to get an early start back to Columbia her only response was to repeat her warning to me not to wake her early.  

Her look said that she was serious.

Thinking how lucky I was to still be alive given all I'd done behind her back I thought that was a pretty good bit of advice so I kissed her goodnight, turned out the light and fell asleep with my alarm set for 7am.  All in all, it was a pretty good end of a day that had seen us start out early this morning on a 700 plus mile trip to pick up a Dodge Daytona that I'd only seen pictures of on the Internet and now owned.

It had been a long day but a day that had also gone by pretty quick in hindsight.

Tomorrow would be the real adventure ... getting the Daytona back home.

It's said that God protects fools and children.  I'd like to think that I'm somewhere in that group, more of one than the other.  Even so I said a special prayer that night to let me get the Daytona home before anything went wrong with it.  Just give me about 700 miles more range, let me get the Daytona back to Columbia, to familiar territory, to people I know who can help me work on it ... just give me this and I'll deal with anything that comes after that.

I snuggled up next to Cindy and held her.  Sleep found me thinking of the Daytona, of my wife and of just how lucky a guy I really was to have someone like her to share my life, my passions and my adventures with.

The day before ...

I've got a few hours of overtime saved up so I leave work a little early to get the money from the bank and take out some money from savings for the trip to Corpus Christi and back.  An email from John says that the actual notarized document from the bank up north didn't arrive today, maybe tomorrow.  

I pick up the loan, sign the paper work and cash the check.  My banker friend says that I can pick up the Daytona without the original document but if the original document doesn't get to me I'm going to have a problem titling the car in MS.  I ask him if it is okay if I go pick up the Daytona and if the document is not there when I pick it up if John just mails it to me when he gets it.  My friend tells me that will be fine and gives me a pair of documents the bank needs signed ... and notarized.

A bill of sale and the power of attorney in case there is a problem with the title on the Daytona.  I ask my friend where exactly am I supposed to find a notary public at 5pm or after in Corpus Christi, Texas on a late Saturday afternoon.

He has no answer but says that if John can get the documents signed and notarized he can mail them later.  I feel better now, too much paperwork so far, too much back and forth having to get John to run around and get things.  This starts to feel like it is finally almost over.  All that is left is the trip ... and surviving the wrath of my wife when she finds out what I've done.

I run by my insurance agent and put the Daytona on my policy, making sure that I have full coverage as well as roadside assistance and towing.  That way, if anything does happen to the Daytona on the way back my insurance will cover it.  That makes me feel even better.

I go home, my father arrives a few minutes later to pick up my daughters.  I see them off and tell them that I will pick them up Sunday.  With my father and my daughters gone, it is just me and my wife.  We sit around for a while on our front porch and watch a rain storm blow through.  I ask her if she wants to go out to a nice restaurant to eat and she says that she's not very hungry.  I'm starving so we settle on Hardee's (Carl's Jr. to you yankees) and we sit and talk.

There's a marvelous post-thunderstorm sunset.

My wife's curiosity gets the best of her.  She can't stand surprises and she asks me if we're going out of town.  I tell her yes, that we'll be leaving tomorrow morning, to pack light because we're only staying one night and coming back Sunday.  I tell her that I need to stop off at Wal-Mart to get some items for the trip.  I have a shopping list in my wallet.  We leave Hardee's, go to Wal-Mart and I load up on basic stuff for the trip; shop towels, hand sanitizer, etc.

I stop by Autozone on the way home and pick up the hard parts ... hoses and belts for my '99 Lincoln (which we will be taking as the chase car) and the '89 Daytona.  My wife just knows that I bring out a pair of bags with "stuff" in them and throw them in the trunk.

We go home.

Everything is ready ... almost.

I tell my wife to pack light because we are going out of town, for a day.  We will be spending the night out of town and coming back on Sunday.  She says she has a few more chores to do so I go back to the garage, with my checklist, and start packing the Lincoln.

I know that she is curious about where we are going and why.  I get a little worried that she may step out while I'm packing all the tools and supplies in the trunk of the Lincoln, especially the two large tarps and the blanket but she must be busy inside and doesn't stray into the garage.

Hot, sweaty, dripping from the humid Mississippi evening (even this late at night) I finish up most of my checklist ... all that is left is to get my clothes and personal stuff together.  Paperwork is set, John's address is programmed into the Garmin Nuvi as well as the address of the hotel we will be staying at.  I take a quick glance at the Garmin, bring up John's address and ... 654 miles.

About ten hours, non-stop but anyone who travels with a woman knows that is impossible so I give us twelve hours one way.  If we leave at 5am tomorrow we can be there about 5am that afternoon.

My wife is NOT a morning person.  I'm lucky in that she is now excited about going ... somewhere.  When she gets up in the morning, if I can get her stuff in the car and get her in the car then I'm okay until she fully wakes up or has caffeine.  I figure once we're underway I've got probably an hour before she starts to ask serious questions.

I go inside to take a shower, pack and get ready.  My wife has not started packing.  I chastise her, politely, for not having gotten ready while I was out working in the garage.  I tell her that we are getting up at 4am and that makes her eyes go wide open.

4am?!

I didn't tell her that!

She starts to pack because she realizes it is almost 10pm and the more time it takes her to pack the less sleep she'll get.  I get a shower and pack.  All of my stuff, including clothes and shaving kit, fits in a backpack.

My wife packs a suitcase and a travel case.

I sigh.

I go to bed, my wife isn't far behind me in doing so either.  We cuddle for a while, she asks some questions, I give her very vague answers.  I remind her of the quote from the Johnny Depp version of "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" in that "the best kind of prize is a SURprize!"

She does not like that.

I set my alarm and fall asleep but it is a dutiful sleep, no dreams.

Two days before ...

I get an email from John with a scan of a notorized document from the current bank that used to be the old bank that the Daytona loan was originally take out with in 1989.  The document explains that the current bank used to be a previous bank which was in turn a previous bank and that records indicate that there is no lien existing against the Daytona.

John even says that the woman he talked to at the bank is the same woman that did his original loan 25 years ago and that she still remembered him.  I thank John and forward this to my friend at the bank.  He, again, takes a copy of the document to the DMV on his lunch break and returns with good news and bad news.

The good news - the document will be accepted for application for title in MS.

The bad news - the DMV wants the original document, not a scan or copy sent via email.

John says that the bank faxed him the copy of the document and that they are sending him the actual document in the mail.  It should arrive either Friday or Saturday.

I tell John that I'll still be coming for the Daytona on Saturday.

My wife has a doctor's appointment in Hattiesburg so she drops my daughters off at my parents.  When she comes back to pick them up, my mother has let slip that she is keeping the girls this weekend so that Cindy and I can go out of town.

I double check my list of supplies and items I'll need to take with me.

Everything is almost ready.

That night, in bed, my wife asks me if we are going anywhere this weekend.  Knowing that she now knows ... something ... I play it off and tell her that I'm not going anywhere this weekend and that I have plenty of housework and yardwork and work on my cars to do to keep me busy.  She kind of accepts that answer but I can tell that my mother may have let slip something that I told her was going to be a surprise.

I get the feeling that my wife doesn't buy my explanation but she plays along with it well enough that I don't have to get defensive and if she knows that we are going out of town this weekend she doesn't know why.  If I can keep that fact hidden from her until we are well on our way on the trip my chances of survival rise astronomically.

Three days before ...

June 18.

It's my birthday.

I'm giving myself a one owner, 1989 Dodge Daytona Shelby.

Maybe.

I get an email from John with a scan of a notice that the Daytona has been paid off and that there is no lien against the car.  I forward the scanned document to my friend at the bank and during his lunch hour he runs the document to the local DMV to see if the car can be titled in MS using the scanned image.

There needs to be more.

The scanned image won't be accepted by the DMV for a title in MS.  They (and the bank) need proof of there being no lien against the Daytona and it must be on bank letter head and notorized.

Sigh.

I tell John this via email and he says he will see what he can do but since the bank he did business with has been bought out and dozed under the operations of at least two banks since then, this could become a problem.

I assure him I still want the car, that I have cash in hand and if we can work this out I'll be seeing him in person Saturday afternoon to pick up the Daytona.  John says he'll see what he can do the next morning.

Planning on getting the Daytona on Saturday, I call my mother and arrange for my parents to keep the girls on Friday and Saturday night and tell her that I'll pick up the girls on Sunday, late.  I tell her that I'm probably going out of town to get a car and that it is a surprise.

Four days before ...

I get an email from my friend at the bank.  There is a problem with the Daytona's title.  It's not a big problem, it's just that when John paid the Daytona off over a decade and a half ago the bank didn't sign the title so the title doesn't show the Daytona as being free and clear.  Normally this wouldn't be a problem as you could just go to the bank and get a letter stating that there was no lien against the Daytona and that the loan had been paid off years ago.

However, due to the nature of the banking industry, the other problem that immediately crops up is that the bank that originally did the loan for the Daytona no longer exists ... it has been bought out and changed names at least twice since the loan was closed.

I email John this news and the recommendations of my friend at the bank.  John says he will look into this.  We need a letter from the bank saying that there is no lien against the Daytona otherwise I'm going to have a problem titling the car in MS.

John says that he will take care of this problem Wednesday morning.

Five days before ...

It's Monday.  This coming Saturday I will be driving from Columbia, MS to Corpus Christi, TX to pick up a used, one owner 1989 Dodge Daytona Shelby that I have bought, on a whim, on a gut feeling, off of the TurboDodge.com forums.

My family does not know.

My wife does not know.

It is going to be a surprise.

I have bought three used cars off the Internet since 2006 ... a 1986 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am in North Carolina in 2006 (still have that, restored, in my garage), a 1991 Chevrolet Corvette Z07 in Miami, Florida in 2008 (kept it, played with it, sold it) and now this 1989 Dodge Daytona Shelby in 2014.  The Corvette wasn't a happy retrieval because the car had some undisclosed problems, the AC didn't work, it rained most of the way and I had to drive 1000 miles in a steamy, no-AC six speed Corvette.  When you start your return trip by having to take apart the dash to fix a connection and you have to stop at Target to buy tools to do it, it's not going to be a pleasant trip back.

So, this time I began to plan.  I wasn't going to go through the same situations that I had with the Corvette in Miami.  This time I was going to plan for every possible situation and problem.  I made a list, checked it twice, checked it five times and was finally happy with it.  Most of the stuff I would need for the trip I kept in my garage ... tools and chemicals.  Some stuff I would need to buy and I wasn't going to buy that until right before the trip because the whole trip is a surprise for my wife.  Yes, I'm going to get ME a car but I'm going to spend some time together with HER, just the two of us, no children.

I wanted her to go with me to get my '86 Pontiac Trans Am but she didn't.  She had to stay home with our daughter (the only one we had then).  When I went to get the Corvette two years later, I had a one year old daughter and a five year old daughter so my wife couldn't come with me then, either.

This time was going to be different.

This time I was going to basically kidnap her and carry her with me.

You see, this was going to be a surprise and because she doesn't like surprises, it was going to be even better.

My banker calls me Monday.  He needs a copy of the title for the car.  I email John.  John sends me the title as a digital scan.  I turn it in to my friend at the bank and that's pretty much the end of Monday.

Here's the list I came up with for the trip.  It's a two day trip, in a car, drive there the first day, pick up the used car, spend the night, drive both cars back the next day.  High speed, low drag.  

Maybe this list will help someone else when they buy a car or truck off of the internet and have to drive a long way to pick it up and then drive it back.  After the experience with the Corvette I prefer to drive now.  Driving was actually cheaper, all things considered, than flying.  If you don't do this often (I don't), you can buy the stuff like belts and hoses at your local parts store, take them on the trip and if you don't need them / use them, just return them when you get back home.  The hoses and belts are cheap insurance on long trips.  Most cars today use a serpentine belt which means that there is one belt that runs all of the accessories of the engine (including the water pump!).  If that belt breaks, you are dead on the side of the road.  Older cars had individual belts for each accessory ... if you lost the air conditioning belt, you could still drive (just without AC).  Now it's all together and while serpentine belts are tough and last a long time, you could have a problem on the way ... better safe than sorry.

If you know basic mechanics, you can change a hose or belt on the way.  You'll need a spare belt and a belt tensioner / prybar.  Changing a serpentine belt isn't hard but it isn't a lot of fun, either however changing your own belt on the side of the road is a lot better than paying for a wrecker, a mechanic, labor and the spare belt as well as the time it will take out of your trip for that little disaster.  In fact, you could buy a lot of this stuff, keep the receipt, take it on the trip and if you don't use it on the trip just return it when you get back.

Permission to copy this list for your own personal use.

Trip Checklist

____  Good knife (something like a folding lock blade, mine is a Gerber Paraframe II)

____  Multi-tool (mine is a Gerber Suspension)

____  Satellite type navigator unit, case, all accessories (mine is an '08 Garmin Nuvi)

____  GripNGo mount (these rock, 10 bux at Walmart in the "As Seen on TV" section)

____  Update navigator with latest maps (you don't want your navigator going nuts in big city traffic trying to take you down a road that was redirected four years ago)

____  4 way power plug splitter

____  Cable ties / zip ties (assorted)

____  Ear plugs – foam - you never know ...

____  Doo-rag (or hat or baseball cap)

____  Sunscreen

____  Change of clothes, spare socks, underwear, clothes to sleep in

____  Shaving kit 

____  Medicine kit - antacid, pain killers, Q-tips, allergy, anything you need to take daily

____  5 hour energy (or your preferred energy booster) x2

____  Digital camera with case, rechargeable batteries x 4, spare memory card.

____  Battery charger

____  Camera mount - suction cup

____  Spiral-bound notebook and pens for making notes, writing stuff down, etc.

____  Driving gloves

____  Sunglasses with case, cleaning cloth, cleaning fluid

____  Cash in small bills – some in reserve in zip-lock bag in backpack

____  Proof of insurance, car paper work for car you are picking up

____  Car tag for car you are picking up (if possible)

____  Copy of contact info / address of seller

____  Cell phone with car / room charger

____  Travel atlas as backup

____  IPod– loaded – all accessories – earphones – case

____  Handgun with extra ammo (check firearm laws of where you are going)

____  Rechargeable flashlight with car and room charger

____  Ratchet tool kit

____  Bit kit

____  Pry bar

____  Serpentine belt tool

____  Spare belts and hoses - chase car

____  Spare belts and hoses - purchase car

____  Hammer

____  Rubber mallet

____  WD40

____  PB Blaster

____  Electric screw driver

____  FatMax Jump pack or other multi-purpose starter / air pump type unit - charged

____  Towel x2

____  Blanket

____  Tarp X2

____  Bungee cords (assorted)

____  Fix-A-Flat

____  Personal tool kit (small screwdrivers, etc.)

____  Fuses (assorted) with fuse puller

____  Duct tape

____  Electrical tape

____  Hose repair tape

____  Epoxy - 5 minute

____  Travel mug

____  Snacks

____  Box of Kleenex (small travel packs work as well)

____  Hand sanitizer

____  Wet wipes - personal cleansing

____  Wet wipes - surface disinfecting, with bleach a bonus

____  Small cooler with drinks, ice, fruit, whatever you think you'll need

____  Water flavors - squirt kind if you drink lots of water like I do

____  Roll of paper towels - for you

____  Roll of shop towels - for you, the cars, and car type messes (oil, trans fluid, etc.)

____  Waterless hand cleaner (don't waste water, you may need it)

____  Fire extinguisher x2 - (If you need one, you might need two ...)

____  First aid kit – car (get a good one)

____  Febreeze – auto (in case your "new" car has any "old" odors ... you're going to be in it a while)

____  Windex – wipes

____  Detail brush

____  Fuel injector cleaner x2

____  Extending telescoping magnet

____  Coolant (2 jugs)

____  Oil - two quarts for each car should be enough.  If not, you have a problem!

____  Lithium grease

____  Battery cleaner spray

____  Battery cleaner brush

____  Graphite powder

____  “Hood stick” - generic "stick" to prop open hoods or trunks or hatches with weak lift supports

____  Air freshener Stick-Up (throw it under the seat of your "new" car and enjoy the drive back)

____  Jumper cables (in case the start box doesn't work ...)

____  Work gloves (thick ones, Wells Lamont is my brand)

____  Eye protection (goes without saying ... good eye protection)

____  Filter mask pack (N95 type)

____  Toilet paper x2 rolls (in case bathrooms are few and far between)

That's the list of what I planned to carry with me on my trip from Columbia, MS to Corpus Christi, TX ... a distance of about 650 miles, give or take, one way.  I printed the list out, using two columns, and made it a checklist to be used in packing for the trip.  As the checklist was assembled, it was checked off as it was stored in the car.  For most of the chemicals and other automotive products, I bought a storage container, one of those flat types at Walmart with the lid, the kind that goes under your bed to store clothes in.  That made it really easy to keep all the chemicals away from other stuff like my clothes, etc. in case there was an accident or a leak or whatever.

Most of my tools, the bits and ratchets and wrenches, etc. all went in a spare backpack that I could keep everything in one place, sling it over my shoulder if I needed to, and it wouldn't spill all over the trunk.

Talking to John

Friday the 13th, June 2014.

This would be the second Friday the 13th that I'd buy a used car on the Internet on.

The last Friday the 13th that I bought a used car it was a '91 Z07 Corvette in Miami.  Strangely enough, that was a red car with a stick in it as well.  I don't have the '91 Vette anymore.

I woke up this morning still wanting the red '89 Daytona so after lunch that afternoon I sent the owner an email asking when would be a good time to call him and talk about the car.  The rational part of me said that the car wasn't going to go unsold for very long so I jotted the owner's phone number down on my cell phone and took a break to give him a call.  He answered and we talked for about 20 minutes long distance.

The owner's name was John.  

He was 55 years old, he had owned the Daytona since it was brand new in '89,  it currently had 142,000 miles, and it had been ordered brand new way back in '89 from John's family owned Dodge dealership in Saint Louis, Michigan ... Paul Cameron Dodge.

We talked and John gave full disclosure on the '89 Daytona, listing all of the things he knew were wrong with it.  Nothing major came up in conversation, just that the Daytona was a 25 year old car, it had some paint nicks from people opening the doors against it in parking lots.  

There were two small rust areas, on the rear fender crowns on each side, surface rust only.

He had just had the Daytona tuned up and serviced last summer ... new distributor, new coil, new plugs, new plug wires, new air filter, new fuel filter and tuned to factory specs.

Everything inside the Daytona worked except the horn button in the steering wheel.  In order to pass state inspection, John had his mechanic just rig up a manual button on the dash for the horn.

The Daytona had a factory installed EVS Electronic Vehicle Security system with remote activation.

The local glass shop had replaced the front window a while ago.  In doing so, somehow they had damaged two of the T-top strips / seals / gaskets.  John hadn't gotten that fixed yet.

The cruise control worked.

All power windows, door locks, fuel door release and rear hatch release worked.

Wipers worked.

The Daytona had come with factory rear window louvers but the paint had started to come off of the louvers so John took them off to try to repaint them and had just never put the louvers back on.  John still had the louvers.

There was a small oil leak from the Daytona.

The AC did not work and it had stopped working last summer.  John didn't know if it was lack of refrigerant or something else.

The pop up headlights and driving lights all worked.  John even had the plastic covers for the driving lights.

He had special ordered the Daytona with the factory Infinity II radio system.  The Daytona also had the rare compact disk player (only 862 Shelbys had that option).  The radio and CD player worked fine.  All speakers worked.

The Daytona had been garage stored most of its life.

The T-tops didn't leak.

John said he was trying to go for full disclosure and I respected that.  After seeing the pictures of the Daytona and hearing John tell me about the car I knew I was going to buy it.  I told John to consider the car sold and that I would be back in touch to work out the details.  I asked John if the Daytona would make the drive from Corpus Christi, Texas to Columbia, Mississippi and John said the last time that the Daytona had been on a long trip had been almost two decades ago.  He recommended trailering the Daytona but something told me a car that well maintained would make it just fine.

I told John that I was going to have to drive almost twelve hours straight, one way, to get the Daytona and asked him if he would take $1800 for the car, as is, as it sat.  John agreed to the price and I thanked him for everything, told him I'd be in touch as soon as I had everything set up and that I'd probably be down a week from Saturday to pick up the car.

I call my bank, talk to my banker (an ex-college buddy of mine, long time motorcycle rider, we go way back.  He married my wife's friend so there's that, too) and start the paperwork.