I don’t name vehicles all the time. I think I’ve had maybe four named cars. First was Mr Peabody. An ‘89 Dodge Shadow ES, Chrysler’s internal designation for the Shadow and Duster was P-Body. Simple enough.
Next would be Freddie Mercury, my ‘85 Capri RS. You could see through Freddie’s floors, but man that guy went. It only ever ran on 7 cylinders, so I’m not sure how it had the stones it did.
Next was The Baron, an ‘89 Mercedes 560 SEL. You can’t tell from that picture, but it had gorgeous oxblood red leather interior. I sold it to a guy who was on house arrest and was wearing an ankle bracelet. Then I had to buy it back because somebody told him the engine was knocking only when the car was parked on a hill (it has 109k miles and no knock). I then sold it for $800 more to a guy who used it to drive up and down the east coast with his son looking at colleges and then drove it 3000 miles back to Spokane Washington. Worked out for me.
After that was Bigfoot, the only vehicle I regret ever selling. A ‘96 F250 XLT with the 7.3 Power Stroke, and basically the nicest one in the world. I traded a really nice ‘92 Mustang LX 5.0 for it, and definitely got the better end since the truck was worth $8500 at the time to the Mustang’s $6000. Man I wish I had that truck back.
Which brings me neatly to the newest named vehicle, Bigfoot 2, my 2001 F250 XLT. Today we got a random April snowstorm (welcome to Rhode Island, motherfuckers!) and Bigfoot 2 earned his name by safely ferrying Sebastian home from daycare and generally making the snow his bitch, even in 2wd.
The main takeaway from today was that yes, a supercab Super Duty will baby:
It’s funny to me how my truck can already have so much rot while the interior is legitimately excellent. But, since Bigfoot 2 can baby, I no longer need my P71...the sale of which will fund repairs to Bigfoot’s rust. Already a really nice truck, it'll be a super nice truck when rust free.