Hot rod nirvana in Texas
Show is as much about people as it is cars
AUSTIN, TEX. — Welcome to the 12th annual Lonestar Rod and Kustom Roundup, a custom car and hot rod nirvana.
There are acres — sorry, hectares — of gleaming steel and some pretty ratty looking stuff, too, but apparently the latter also has its appeal. This yearly gathering just outside the Texas state capital is as much about the peeps as it is their cars. It could double as a ZZ Top convention: I’ve never seen so many braided beards, ponytails and cheap sunglasses.
Geoff Smith is typical of many rodders here: his modified 1929 Model A Coupester is a daily driver for the operator of Smitty’s Speed Shop in Pearland, Texas. “I like to use it while I can … It’s not that life is short; it’s just that dead is so damn long.”
Also in attendance was the perfect vehicle for beach bums: a 1938 Ply- mouth Westchester. I’ve loved the look of these Woodies since I bought my first Beach Boys album.
Mark Hallock found his now-turquoise 1955 Chevy Nomad in a field near Cameron, Texas, in 1989. He shelled out $2,500 to tow it away and laboured four years to restore it.
Surely, nobody here would be seen dead in a 1957 Nash Metro. Well, maybe if it were a hot rod makeover, with a miniature version of itself atop its engine.
Laura Matthews owns a beautifully restored and “enhanced” 1956 Mercury Monterey. Among the “enhancements” are comfy seats and air conditioning.
A mere 50 grand will put the AnyCar II in your garage. Let’s face it: you wouldn’t want to put it on the driveway. It was built on a 1929 Hudson for a New York finance company’s ad campaign in which they promised to finance any vehicle purchase. It was used in two Pink Panther movies and the late Beatle John Lennon used it in some home movies.
Time for a stroll among the vendors: this crowd is big on retro fashion and kooky signage for the Man Cave. One stall was stacked high with welded metal spelling out slogans and the most popular marques. “12 bucks a pound unless there’s a sticker price attached,” yelled one seriously tattooed staffer. I felt kind of naked without a tattoo.
Bob and Mama have been selling at shows for 14 years. They display some curious accessories with a very Texan theme, among them a matching bag and purse adorned with six shooters. Even the knives have the look of handguns.
Jerry ‘Porkchop’ Walker pledges to finish the job someday on his 1934 Chevy. So far he’s chopped it by 18 centimetres, shortened it a whisker and moved back the A pillars.
Just after viewing the less-than-finished Chevy, I ran into Stephen Davis and his roller derby star partner, Cat.
“We prefer ratty looking cars,” proclaimed Stephen. “I mean, anybody can put $100,000 into an old car and have somebody else do the work.”
Anybody?