My First 1800 Miles

Having never been in a roadster for a long drive (more than 150 miles at a time), I had no idea what to expect when I was handpicked (actually, I was just the only guy left in the office that wasn't already gone on a road trip) to go on Americruise East.

As luck would have it, the trip got off to somewhat of a rough start. When I arrived at John Wayne airport in Orange County, California, I was quickly notified that my flight to Dallas, Texas, was cancelled. No problem, there was another flight 30 minutes later, which promised not to interfere with my connecting flight to San Antonio. Well, that'd work great just as long as there were no delays on my new flight. Not so fast...my "new" flight got into Dallas about 15 minutes later than it should have, so there was another plane occupying our parking spot. As we sat on the tarmac for another 10 minutes, I realized that I was going to have to pull an O.J. (I know, bad choice of a metaphor, but that's the only one that came to mind) through the airport to make my connecting flight to San Antonio.

Well, I made it with five minutes to spare. No sweat right...? Wrong! It seemed my luggage didn't possess the same quick legs I do. After about 15 phone calls and a midnight drive back to the San Antonio airport, the lost luggage fiasco was finally squared away.

Hearing there was plenty of moisture in the Midwest over the summer, and because this was my first long haul in a roadster, I figured I would be totally prepared and bring a few extra items of clothing just in case we were to hit some rain; about 200 miles outside of Lake Charles, Louisiana, it happened. We experienced our first downpour. So, now it was time for the aptly prepared Web guy to put on some foul-weather gear. There was only one problem with this: Once your arms are wet, it is nearly impossible to get them into the sleeves of a pullover windbreaker.

After about five to 10 minutes of battling, I finally got the appropriate clothing in place. Keep in mind, this also included a knit cap and goggles. This was all great except that no one wanted to tell me that summer storms in the South usually last about 12 minutes at the most, especially when you are driving through them. About two minutes later, the rain stopped and it became excessively hot and humid. As sweat began to pour down my face, I realized it was time to abandon the hurricane gear that was once so important (for about 30 seconds). Now said foul weather gear had become wet inside and out, which posed the problem of getting free from my now unnecessary garb. This feat would have made even Houdini proud, as I was finally able to wiggle my way out of the makeshift sauna I had unintentionally created.

My driving partner, Ron Ceridono, was having a hard time keeping the car in the groove, not due to the rain-soaked road, but because he couldn't stop laughing at the idiot in the passenger seat trying to escape his homemade straightjacket. I found it a little odd that all this laughter was coming from a man wearing a trash bag with a hole cut in the top. Nice touch... Okay...so I learned my lesson about rain and a roadster. Just deal with it, or get yourself one of those incredibly fashionable 20-gallon baby blue trash bags.

At first, I was feeling a little anxious to get to our stops so we could relax, but the more miles I had under my belt, the more comfortable I became in the car. Hell, by now I was ready to drive. "Not so fast web guy," I think were the words muttered from Ron's mouth. I guess he wasn't ready to turn over the keys to a two-day roadster rookie just yet. Oh well, I was hungry, so it was on to the next Cracker Barrel (Did somebody say chicken?--Man. Ed. Brookshire).

The drive was mapped out to take six days and to cover 1,800-miles. After the first two days, I really began to feel the camaraderie between the 65 or so Americruise long-haul participants. When one of the rods broke down or had mechanical problems, there was no shortage of volunteers to help out with tools or services. Some even stayed back if a necessary part wasn't available from a local auto parts store until the next day. A few of the guys spent much of the trip catching up with the pack, but even that didn't seem to dampen their spirits. To the hard-core rodder, a little breakdown on a road trip is nothing but a small inconvenience. In fact, it makes for great stories at the next night's stop.

My job on this trip was to get as many driving photos as I could. This gave me the opportunity to spend time in some very cool vintage rides. Oftentimes this involved hitching a ride in a sedan or coupe. But I must say, after spending the first 600 or so miles in the McMullen roadster, the roofed cars just don't carry as much of the excitement as the open cars. It's hard to explain, but I got a totally different feeling while driving in a coupe. I even began to feel a little claustrophobic at times and couldn't wait to get back into the roadster.

After six days, we headed into Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania, right on schedule. I now considered myself a seasoned roadster veteran. The Web guy had now spent a few hundred miles behind the wheel, took a few hundred photos hanging backwards out of a roadster, and made it through torrential downpours and searing heat (not to mention survived being a passenger in a roadster that Ron Ceridono seemed to think had a gas pedal that only had an "on" and "off" position). Mr. Ceridono also introduced me to the term "controlled drift." I had my own theory on that though. If you aren't the one driving the car, there is no such thing as a "controlled drift."

Having never been on a long haul in a street rod, I cannot express how much fun I had at this year's Americruise East. This was one of those things you must experience for yourself to get the true feeling of the drive.

So, if you have a street rod, roadster, vintage truck, or musclecar in your garage, you owe it to yourself to take a trip past that donut shop and to take a real cruise.

I'll be looking forward to next year's Americruise, only this time I'll be sure to leave the extra weather gear in my bag. Bring on the rain!

Roger, Linda, Ryan, and Rusty Jackson
Carl Junction, Missouri

Tom and Kathy Rhinehart
Joplin, Missouri

As anyone who has been in this hobby knows, it promotes long-term friendships. Take Roger and Linda Jackson and Tom and Kathy Rhinehart as an example. Their friendship goes back to the days when Roger and Linda were first married and Tom and Kathy were dating. Without giving away their ages, we'll just tell you that they tried to go see the movie What Do You Say To A Naked Lady but were turned away because Kathy was under 18. It was probably for the best, as her dad was a Baptist preacher.

Fast forward a few years and here they all are, plus a couple more. The Rineharts drive the '36 Dodge sedan and the Jackson's have a variety of cars, including the '34 Ford coupe. Following in their parents' footsteps are Ryan Jackson with his '35 Chevy coupe and Rusty in his one-off '32 Ford pickup. Not shown is brother Randy, who helped build the brothers' rides. Proving that the acorns don't fall far from the tree, there's a new street rod shop on the horizon. Rusty is opening Odd Rod Creations. You can check it out by contacting him at jackson_ rusty@hotmail.com.

Bruce and Kay Burroughs
Houston, Texas

It took a while to figure out what was happening with Bruce and Kay Burroughs, we'd see them together at the stops, but never in a car together. Then we realized, they each had their own '32 roadster.

Bruce and Kay were high school sweethearts and in those days they went out on two dates a week, one to go out, the other to work on a car. Eventually, they got married and street rodding became a family activity as kids came along. But as their offspring got older, and bigger, Bruce and Kay had a decision to make, don't go to rod runs or take two cars. Wouldn't you know it, once the kids left the nest, the two-car traveling trend continued.

After a successful career in the auto parts business, Bruce decided to retire, but it wasn't long before Bruce's Rod Shop came into being. Son Danny, who started turning pieces on a lathe at age seven, joined his Dad and the formidable pair started turning out first-class rides. For examples of their handiwork look no further than the two cars shown here.

Bruce's full-fendered roadster was purchased as a pristine restoration, but it wasn't long before a mildly hopped-up '50 Ford Flathead and '39 trans were slipped in place along with a dropped axle and '40 juice brakes. To give it the right look, the Deuce was equipped with big 'n' little solids and a dropped headlight bar.

While Bruce's blue Deuce is as traditional as they come, the red roadster is an example of contemporary rodding at its best. Built by Bruce and Danny as a 40th wedding anniversary gift to Kay, a Brookville body sits on a chassis fashioned by the father and son team. Power comes from a ZZ3-350 with a ZZ430 cam and kit, the trans is a T-5, and getting the power to the ground is a Ford 9-inch. Of course, the obvious joke here is that the key to a happy marriage is driving two cars on rod runs. But, all kidding aside, the true secrets of a happy marriage are love, street rods, and sharing the fun together. Besides, we all know the real secret to traveling with your spouse is to never ask them to fold the road map.