Not that the car season ends up here in the north; it simply changes its focus. As friends in California point out, “It must be nice to have four months every year to just build your cars. Here we have to drive them!” Truth be told, it’s closer to six months here, but I often fail to mention it.
I’ve come to enjoy the two seasons—building and driving—of our hobby, and really don’t mind that Mother Nature sets the clock. It’s the transition of those seasons that leaves me unsure of the direction I should take.
Returning from a trip to JTR Customs to have a new windshield cut for my ’35 Chevy, the uncommonly warm late January day hastened my pace as I headed for the garage. The thick smell of Bondo dust filled the air as I entered the shop, and soon I noticed it had covered everything in there as well. The whine of the DA sander pierced the air as the drone from the air compressor joined the concert. The warm sunny day was quickly forgotten as my son’s activity reminded me it was still building season. I grabbed the air hose and began cleaning off the ’35, despite my son’s best efforts to bury it beneath the dust from his project; after all, I had a windshield to install.
As I worked my way around the car, freeing it from its chalky white cocoon, I couldn’t help but consider how blessed we were in the north country to have this uninterrupted time devoted exclusively to building cars and dreams of the driving season yet to come. I encourage fellow members to head out to the garage and make some of your own “building season” memories.