JR's Korner of BillyBob's Garage

WHAT'S NEW is a chronological listing of updates to the BillyBob site.

TRUCK LINKS including vendor sites for old parts, custom parts, and tools as well as sites for classic car and truck organizations

STORE Operating in association with Amazon.com, books, recordings and tools can be purchased.

PLANNING for the restoration including project schedule and cost estimates.

TRAVELS WITH BILLYBOB With apologies to Steinbeck, this area of BillyBob's Garage will be used to log the trips BillyBob and I make together.

WORK-IN-PROGRESS was the restoration of parts of BillyBob that I could accomplish without a garage up until the summer of 2010 when I finally got enough warehouse space to work in. Now, it also includes the continuing work on BillyBob in the shop.

PRE-RESTORATION includes log entries of minor repairs and adventures between time of purchase and the time when I started restoration, a piece at a time.

JR'S KORNER JR's Korner is the history of BillyBob before I got him authored by my brother, Wm. C. Kephart.

BILLYBOB MAINTENANCE Ever changing detailing, oil change, lube, etc. maintenance routines specifically developed for BillyBob, including required tools, materials and procedures.

PARTS SHOP The Parts Shop is a repository of How-To articles. Things that I have done over and over enough times to have developed a procedure. This gives me a checklist and saves brain cells.

STEALTH SHOP Urban residence design with large integrated shop and separate living quarters for a relative or renter.

7. Outraged Citizenry

My house had a screened patio in the back when I bought the place. The patio structure was obviously built by a former owner who fancied himself a carpenter. He wasn't! Let me tell ya, nothing about this structure conformed to any accepted construction practice that I am aware of nor could it be considered safe.

I believe that, as a society, we have given up too many personal freedoms in the name of security, safety and domestic tranquillity. You can't do squat without getting someone's permission, and building something is no exception. However, in the case of this guy's home construction project, the authorities should have stepped in and prevented him from being a danger to himself and, eventually, to me. I had to tear it off.

A few well-placed blows from a twelve-pound sledge hammer brought the thing down.

After the dust cleared, I loaded all the debris into the truck for delivery to the local dump hereafter known as the Pleasant Valley Storage Facility. The truck bed was pretty much filled as I started for the dump. I hadn't tarpped the bed, partly because I was defying one of those laws which take away personal freedom and partly because I didn't have a tarp.

The Pleasant Valley Storage Facility is about fifteen miles and two hills away. Everything was going good until I started up the first hill. Because of the load and the near terminal condition the truck's engine I was forced to go up the hill in first gear at about seventeen miles an hour. Before long a line of cars, trucks, and other vehicles, all with angry drivers, was backed up behind me. This was a well traveled two lane road and I was clogging it. I'm sure several people were at the moment wandering why the government hadn't prevented me from exercising my personal freedom (i.e., the ownership of a classic hauler).

As I crested the hill, I "put the pedal to the metal" and let her roll in hopes of building up sufficient speed to climb the next hill. About midway down my speed had picked up the point where small objects in the bed were being blown out by the rush of wind. I looked in the rearview mirror; the line was still there but instead of being on my bumper it was now three hundred yards behind. I'm sure several drivers were pondering the punishment for murder at the point.

I had little time to be concerned about their feelings, however, as I had my hands full trying to keep the truck heading in a straight line. The kingpins were as wore out as the engine. The truck was pretty much going where it wanted to go while paying only minor attention to my frantic steering corrections. Half way up the next hill the truck slowed enough for me to regain control and I never gave it up again keeping my speed below 30 mph the rest of the way to the dump.

After unloading what was left in the bed, I took a different route home to avoid any possibility of ambush by the angry mob that had followed me. I'm certain they were searching for me carrying torches, wooden farm tools and a long rope, hemp of course.

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Issued Wednesday February 18, 1998

Updated Friday April 20, 2018

copyright © 1998-2018 William Craig Kephart all rights reserved