- "An empty tin can." "The presence of a lost sock." "The abandoned refrigerator of all cars." That’s what they said. And I savored every presumptuous chill shot. This was the point of the exercise: A daily driver that I could live with, while blending in with thousands of other faceless drones on city streets and freeways. Don’t confuse this with a ‘sleeper’ – those CIA-like masters of subterfuge that drop the hammer to gobsmack opponents with shock and awe. The Bi Polar Bear doesn’t have to shock anyone to earn its keep. I’m happy with a raised eyebrow. Just get me to work on time and push me back in the seat on demand. The key is how it weeds out the pretenders. You either get it or you don’t. It started as a ’64 Chevy pickup. That was my driver, until it ejected the rods coming home from work one day. I traded the truck carcass for a ’78 Pinto wagon being used to shuttle logs (on its top) at the saw mill where I worked. When I found this ’80 Malibu wagon rotting on the back row of a used car lot, I traded the Pinto for it and limped it home, broken timing chain and all. I built a quickie drivetrain for it, went through the chassis and haven’t turned it off since. That was in1997. Then I wrote America’s Coolest Station Wagons and began feeling guilty for the 15 years of neglect I’d rewarded the car with for its loyal service. Since then, I’ve slowly been taking baby steps to instill some semblance of respectability in the Bi Polar Bear. I’m approaching this project like I did ‘em in high school: A peanutbutter & jelly budget, swap meet bolt-ons, driveway labor and hand tools. The goal is a modicum of street/strip cred (14s?) while keeping maintenance to a minimum. Meanwhile, I’m gleefully revisiting my adolescence by going crude with parts replacement and redecorating. Like my neighbors weren’t already nervous enough.
It came to me with black 14" steelies and bald whitewalls. Now there’s 15 X 6" fronts with 185-70s and 15 X 8 rears with 275-60s. The epic roof rack was first item to go. I drilled the hydraulic mounts and tucked the bumpers in. There were also ½" thick tow tabs up front – until I torched ‘em off. Glued-on factory insignias filled a small trash can. This is dirt bag customizing with same result as the brand name shops: Less is more.
Original tailgate was apparently used for batting practice. I traded a wagon book (and a day’s labor) for this one. Still haven’t found a decent rear bumper, but at least this one got tucked in. Also torched off 26 miles of stick-weld, holding trailer hitch on (was always nervous towing with this car anyway). Side marker lights are next to go. This is exotic (rusty) Canadian version, with "Unleaded Fuel Only" gas door decal lettered in French.
