BI POLAR BEAR

  It definitely looks best at a distance. Out of focus photography and bad lighting are other clever trade secrets.

"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.
 

The 98 HP weakling 287 was gone 24 hours after I signed the title. My best friend gave me a nice 4-bolt main 350 block. I had it bored .030" over and align honed, added M/T hypereutectic pistons and a mild hydraulic cam. I had an old set of heads I’d hogged out for my hot rod, scored a factory aluminum intake and topped it with a mystery Q-jet found in a buddy’s shop when he moved into it. Bought cheapo headers and turbo mufflers off the shelf – Bonneville has not been kind to them. TH350 is stock (for now) and drives spindly 3.08 geared 7 ¼" 10-bolt rear. A 4.11 9" Ford assembly lurks in the wings. I’ll box the control arms and whack the coils (again) before installing it.

Soon after getting the wagon, I had to rebuild the rearend and upgraded to extra-hardened Yukon axles. This is how the Bear got its name. Before the axles, it was known as Bob (long story). My apologies to any bi-polar individuals (human or polar bears) named Bob who find this offensive.

The entire interior was done in luxurious plastic, which was faded and brittle when I got the car. Over time, it crumbled away and this fall I finally cleaned out the last crumbs. Future plans call for welding up some holes in floor, lightweight short-back seats, aluminum dash (with actual gauges) and deletion of dead weight E-brake, radio, A/C ducting and wiring. Column shift will probably stay. I’ll keep this one too slow for rollcage requirement – too much weight! Final finish will feature my trademark Swiss Cheesing.

It’s been a pack mule from day one. I’ve slept in here a lot, too. Original tailgate saw enough workbench duty that it fell off one night in drag pits – we threw it in here and rebuilt it. This weekend I hauled home the world’s crustiest 9" Ford rearend with the BPB. Try that with your new "crossover".

No action shots yet, but I did bring the camera while running errands the other day. I hope to have some track shots and results in the spring. Hopefully, I'll have the rebellious text and upsidedown photos figured out by then. My apologies. This program has a mind of its own...

CENSORED WAGON PHOTOS REVEALED!

America’s Coolest Station Wagons has been at the top of the New York Times Non Fiction Best Seller List for ten months now. That’s pretty cool. 3.9 million copies have sold worldwide, so far. I’m honored. The Pulitzer nomination was a humbling surprise. The publisher, CarTech Inc., is also happy with these developments. But behind the scenes, a terrible secret has haunted the project from its beginnings, while editors, layout and design personnel, and a litany of managerial department heads scrambled to keep a lid on it: The book was too good for its own good. This unprecedented situation nearly brought the entire corporation to its knees, as chaos erupted on every floor of the North Branch, Minnesota headquarters building. Ultimately, outside consultation was called in (via an anonymous federal government think tank) and order was only restored after radical steps were taken: Entire chapters were deleted and thousands of images destroyed, in an effort to make the package digestible to you, the consumers. Like all CarTech employees, I was required to sign a gag order barring any discussion of these events.

Today, I’m declaring my personal statute of limitations to be expired. I can no longer withhold the truth from the 3.9 million people who have been deceived. Below are samples of the 12,947 images I smuggled across the Minnesota state line in a rented Chevrolet Astro van on April 18th of 2010. Let the chips fall where they may. The people deserve to know how they were betrayed in the name of arrogant elitist capitalism.

Exposing this cover-up was no rash decision. Besides struggling with the ethical and legal implications, the very safety of my own family is at stake, considering Cartech is owned by Rupert Murdoch, who is owned by Citicorp, which is owned by McDonalds, which is owned by Coca Cola, which is owned by the Catholic Church. All organizations that play for keeps. Nevertheless, I declare my imminent assassination to be worthwhile.

　

This shot of Chris Darland’s ’57 Chevy beater is what attracted the attention of the Pulitzer committee. It hasn’t been seen since - until now.

The image of Bobbi Petersen and her poodles was captured months after her Ford’s feature shoot. It was cropped with a hatchet to hide the missing front bumper (being replaced at the time), for fear of alienating prospective bumper loving book buyers. Gasser fans, this one’s for you.

Chris Whitney’s ’66 Fairlane, in Las Vegas for the 2009 SEMA show. The NHRA (owned by Coca Cola) didn’t want the C/Stocker shown on public streets (although it’s actually on a floor jack in a parking lot) and brought the heat. Luckily, I’d made this copy and stored it at an undisclosed location.

The JF Launier ’55 Chrysler, just before taking the stage for an episode of the Car Crazy TV show. This is one of several shots from the program taping, meant to be included in JF’s book feature. When show host Barry Meguiar discovered JF didn’t use Meguiar Car Care products, he stopped tape and had security escort Launier from the premises. Meguiar keyed the Chrysler while JF struggled with guards. My camera was confiscated, but I’d stashed the camera card in the lining of my suit jacket.

Scott Parkhurst is an editor at CarTech. His ’66 Chevelle is featured in the book. These action shots from the Optima Batteries Ultimate Street Car Invitational were quickly whisked away to a warehouse in Roswell, New Mexico, upon being seen by a nameless Cartech photo editor. Parkhurst remains on the missing persons list, but the car’s tailgate was recently found in a Baltimore wrecking yard. I happen to have a locksmith friend in Roswell. Optima Batteries is owned by Johnson Controls, which is owned by the federal government.

Inexplicably, this snap of Ed Bittle’s ’51 Nash was pulled from the feature. To this day, there’s been no explanation why the cleanest image from a difficult shoot wasn’t included – only this cryptic message from an anonymous Cartech employee: "This won’t fly and you’d never believe the reason why. Sorry, X"

I love this shot of Barefoot Bob Hardison, star of the opening story in the book. I believe his brother Mike shot this portrait of Bob at the wheel of his 1914 Ford Depot Hack, on safari for adventure, somewhere in America. Alas, I never found a high res version of this shot and it was cast aside. At least I understand why it wasn’t used.

We had a chapter of Wagons in Hibernation, but it was ejected for "portraying an image deemed unacceptable by company guidelines." So you never got to see Jamie Ford’s Pontiac hearse rotting into a field. Today, that wrong has been righted. Fisher Casket owns 3% of CarTech stock.

Okay, this one was totally my bad. Left my monopod laying in the foreground while catching Jeff Petersen’s ’47 Ford Woody in action. Doh! I stood in a ditch full of water moccasins to get this shot. A wasted risk.

The lead shot of Guy Recordon’s ’56 Pontiac feature was taken in the parking lot of this clinic. I thought the sign added interest. I didn’t realize the clinic was owned by Blue Cross/Blue Shield, which is owned by Pfizer Pharmaceuticals, which owes storage fees to Burnside Towing, who posted the No Parking signs. I should’ve checked that out first.

Clyde Wouten drove his ’56 Pontiac right into the shoot I was doing on Guy’s car. I felt it was serendipitous and included this shot with my submission of Guy’s feature. That’s how I learned that my editor doesn’t believe in serendipity.

While shooting Guy’s interior, yet another car rolled into the shot! This one proved more worthy of the interruption…

I didn’t get a name on the Deuce 5-window owner – just this snapshot, which I saved for future use. The future is now.

This shot of Guy’s Pontiac passing a Buick dealership sparked enough corporate infighting to result in the entire Pontiac Motor Division being fired from General Motors. And I thought I was just taking a picture of a cool old car. My apologies to the 28,000 Pontiac workers who lost their jobs. Oosp! Shit happens.

My secret spy shot of Superior Glassworks’ ’54 Nomad prototype chassis, still in progress. Superior supplied their own chassis photo – an overhead shot of the finished version (which would’ve been beautiful, if they’d cropped out the background clutter.) This seemed reasonable, until I found out Superior’s security camera was shooting me shooting the chassis. I discovered this on a website I hit by accident. They added music to the video ("Everybody Dance Now") and animated my legs, so I appear to be dancing while suspended from wires like a spastic puppet being tazed. I spent a lifetime perfecting those moves, only to see them mocked in the most public forum there is.

I submitted a chapter of station wagon art that vanished from the final cut. Here’s a couple samples.

One in a series of portraits of influential punk rocker’s childhoods, Sean Mahan added the ’67 Ford wagon to his painting of Ian Mackaye because he felt it represented suburban angst. How could I have known that a high ranking Cartech executive lost her virginity to the village idiot on prom night in just such a car?

Dan Palatnik designs 3-D cars for Xbox Games in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. He whipped up this ’55 Chevy just for the book! It turns out Dan, er, I mean, Mr. Artist – is in the witness protection program, and for good reason. Sorry about that, Dan. Dang it! Did it again…

In spite of these corporate blunders, 3.9 million wagon fans (and counting) have found America's Coolest Station Wagons to be purchase worthy. Sure, the Pulitzer and Best Seller List are nice bonuses, but I do this for you, the fans. Thank you all, for taking this ride with me. I’ll keep doing my best to expose the beautiful ugly truth, for you!

SHOP SALE

A couple of years ago, the economy hit me like a Tsunami and washed me out into the street. I had to jettison all non-life supporting baggage, such as my almost finished race car project and the hot rod I’d been building/driving/racing for 25 years. The emotional hit left me reeling, but I took some solace in knowing I wasn’t alone. Like so many others, I’d set myself up for the reality-slap by living beyond my means. I got off easy, compared to most. While still existing way below poverty level, my quality of life is actually much better now. But I do miss my toys.

So when my pal Gary told me he was moving to a new shop and selling off some stuff he’d rather not move, I attended his sale with my party hat on. Yeah, the event stirred up those old emotions, but I clung to the present moment and stayed there all day. It was fun catching up with old friends and kicking tires. I found myself wishing you could’ve been there. Here’s the next best thing:
　

Before I even got out of the car, I sensed a much lighter vibe at this sale than at my last one.

               Jamie Ford’s fresh-built Deuce set the standard for visual stimulation.

A bunch of guys muttering about parts interchange with hands in pockets. These are my people!

Gary’s latest personal project: A ’34 tudor, dragged off of Jamie Ford’s acreage, after Jamie had his way with it. Why the For Sale signs, Gary? "I figured I’d throw it out there and see what’s meant to be. Who knows?" Definitely priced right, but no bites, with the southern Oregon economy hanging from the noose.

This ‘fixer upper’ Y-block was planned for another project, but found itself looking for a new home on sale day. Nobody had signed the adoption papers by the time I left.

I’m coming out, right here: I have a cast aluminum fetish. There, I said it. Despite the sickness, I drove away, cast-free. My blue moon discipline always surprises me.

This is the automotive equivalent to full contact chess: The Swap Meet price negotiation. I observed this particular exchange for well over an hour. Exhausting. In the end, Gary (at right) held his ground and was rewarded with storing this steering column until the next sale. And the respect of his peers, of course.

I’m scheduled to drive a bellytank lakester at Bonneville next year. Talk about a reality slap! I’m supposed to fit into one of these with a full firesuit and helmet on? Time to start dieting! First thing tomorrow…

Some of Gary’s neighbors took advantage of the situation. The little Buick Special pegged my Dreamometer. If you didn’t know, these came factory stock with the 215" aluminum engine, now standard issue in the Rover.

This ’55 cackled in, fresh from Chris Darland’s shop. Chris followed up in his Pontiac powered street/strip ’33 Plymouth coupe, but I couldn’t get a bead on it with my Olympus. Oh, the heartbreak of the solitary hunter…

Before I knew it, the shadows extended and my BFF’s Jamie and Linda Ford were hightailing it for home. A quick goodbye and they vanished. Same here. See ya! And thanks for another fun day, Gary. Hope you made some room and money!

Next time: Rat Wagons! The next hot trend? Stay tuned…