The Bronco

My first vehicle was a 1984 Ford Bronco XLT.

That's right baby...XLT! Hey, I had to look good for the ladies.


Anyway, the thing was totally badass! I used to pound the ever-livin' shit out of the poor thing and it would keep coming back for more. We went through swamps, rivers, bogs, trees and the like.

They say that this is a picture of a '84 Bronco, but this one is much nicer than mine was. I'll just have to take their word for it.




Mine was oxidized/scratched blue with rust highlights.

I ended up with my fine piece of american know-how in a roundabout kind of way. My father had previously owned it but when he bought a different truck, he co-signed it over to a "friend" of his who then proceeded to skip town. He was found 10 months later in east-bumfuck Maine living in it. After some legal wrangling, The Deadbeat decided that he would give the truck back to my Dad and drop it off at a store here in Portsmouth. I was charged with the task of getting it home. That proved to be harder than you think.

She started up ok but as soon as I got on the highway, I realized that something was amiss. It was blowing steam out of not only a few hoses, but sections of the radiator as well. We would get about 3 miles, stop, and have to put more water in it. All the while diving for cover because I was too stubborn to wait for the radiator to cool down. We did eventually make the 15 mile ride home without blowing up the motor in just under an hour. But it was close, she was bone dry when we hit Hampton. I do remember that people were frantically pointing and yelling at the front of my truck the whole way back. Yeah, like I don't notice the 5 foot jet of stream billowing from the front of my truck. Morons.

I dropped it off at the shop so it could get a once over. I should have left well-enough alone. To make a long story short, I had the keys in my hand one week and minus $1300 later.

Billy and I showed up to pick her up and immediately decided that today was the big day and we were going to go out and celebrate in style! The first thing we did? Went four-wheelin'!

We bombed out onto the railroad tracks and started charging along hitting every trail that we saw along the way. There were a few bumps and bruises along the way, but nothing major. Although, I did smack into the railroad tracks backing up to turn around one time. Along that stretch they were raised up on a berm, so I thought that just the bumper hit. No such luck. But everything seemed ok...

A little while later we came upon this really kickass looking trail that went out through a swamp. Being ever so careful, we actually got out to walk a few feet of the trail to make sure that we weren't going to get stuck. It was while getting back into the truck that I smelled something. Gas. Shit! I looked under the car and saw a steady stream of gas pouring out of the gas tank. Apparently I had popped a pretty good hole in it when we backed into the railroad tracks.

So, there we are in a swamp and about 5 or 6 miles away from the nearest tow truck. Not good. So, I did what any dilligent person would have.....I got back in and floored it!

At one point we were doing around 6omph which in itself isn't that impressive but when you figure in the rocks, stumps, and ruts that needed to be avoided...it's pretty good speed. It took us about 45 mins to get into the woods where we were, it took about 6 to get out.

We pulled back into the gas station and looked for a place to park. I didn't want gas getting all over the parking lot, now did I? Ah, there is the perfect spot. Right over a storm drain. The garage and the town ended up not being too happy about that. Something about fumes, explosions, contaminating wells. I'm not too sure, I wasn't really paying attention.

After another week, a new 34-gallon gas tank and another $1100, we were out on the prowl again.

more later......