by Mark Maine

Created on: January 11, 2009   Last Updated: January 21, 2009

The morning had found me quickly readjusting my scheduled plans for my cross country drive home. Just a few days earlier I was in sunny El Paso, Texas saying good bye to old friends and looking forward to the drive home to New Hampshire. It had been a long time since I had been home and I missed the tall hardwood forests and rugged mountains that graced my childhood. I was also anticipating the journey across the country, a chance to see this great nation from the highway, instead of the minuscule view looking down from an aircraft. I even adjusted the travel course to include segments of the old route 66. I could think of no better way to compliment the end to my tour of duty than to drive my 68 Camaro down America's mother road towards home. I was pondering over these things as I listened to the hum of the 396 singing out its horsepower melody, the song that only a true gear head can appreciate.

The trip was turning out to be a lot of fun and quite interesting too. I remembered my friend's statement just before had I left. He said that you will get to know your cars strong and weak points by the time that you get home. I didn't fully understand what he meant until I lost the heater core in New Mexico. It snowed that evening in Albuquerque, which had me starting out the next morning wrapped up in a blanket with the defrost blowing cold air on the windshield to keep it from fogging up. I chuckled to myself and readjusted my blanket as I thought about my stroke of "good fortune". It was now beginning to snow and the roads were getting pretty slick. I had determined while back in New Mexico, that since it was spring I would wait and replace the heater core after I got home. I did not anticipate snow in the mid west in April. Just outside of Indianapolis I had noticed a severe clunking sound from the transmission when I had exited the highway for gas. Pulling into a rest area, I climbed under the car and realized that the rear u-joint was toast, and I mean bad.

I was real easy on the clutch and with the big N-50 tires in three inches of snow; I was motivated to be conservative. The morning was wearing on and I was beginning to get hungry. About this time I spot a little roadside diner, the type that began to be sprinkled along the side of America's highways back in the 1950's. This diner appeared to be an original survivor from that time period, tattered awnings and all. Upon exiting the highway, I was jarred back from my observations by the jolt of the stiff

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