Master Tech Car Show
(That head is a link, readers.)
Inundated with souped-up custom cars, but here we have a bone-stock ’62 Olds, stock 394 cubic-inch engine, never been opened. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
“I write a blog,” I told the owner of a cherry stock ’62 Oldsmobile.
“I’ll blog this show with pictures, and I just took a picture overlooking the show, and your car is front-and-center.”
I attended the Master Tech Car Show yesterday east of Canandaigua.
My friend Jim LePore (“luh-POOR”) was showing his SS Camaro.
I was impressed.
Hundreds of souped-up hyper-cars were on display, some even altered in appearance = customized.
Mainly they were hotrods, hyped for maximum performance.
Every once in a while one would rev up through the gears.
A fabulous sound for this old car-guy.
A ’70 Camaro rumbled in. It had a hood-bulge at least a foot high. Even at idle it was assaulting the ground with tinny exhaust blasts.
But no one was burning out — I guess they have a rule.
Master Tech claims they do car repair. But inside their service-bays were a G-T-O, a 396 Chevelle, two turbocharged Buick Grand Nationals, plus a 454 Monte Carlo.
I have a hunch many of the cars on display at some time were in a Master Tech service bay.
Not all the cars on display were hotrods.
Some were bedraggled, in need of restoration.
One standout was a ’56 Caddy four-door sedan.
Faded paint, but still impressive.
Its motor was covered with grease and grime, but I guess it still ran.
That is, it drove to the show and parked.
So there it sat amidst all the glittering hotrods.
It attracted more attention than most.
Its owner was holding court.
“it was originally coral and white, but at some time was repainted blue.”
He had the left taillight up, exposing the gas-filler.
Memories.
I had my dog with me, so few photographs.
It ain’t easy taking pictures yanked by a pulling dog.
Plus I hafta make sure she doesn’t scarf someone’s hamburger.
She loves going to car shows. “Oh what a beautiful dog,” and “Can I pet your dog?”
“Over here you monster. This guy wants to say hello.”
Fabulous cars as far as the eye could see.
They had us voting for “Best-in-Show.”
For me that was #115, a black ’50 Ford two-door sedan. It had an actual FlatHead motor, probably the only Flatty there. Everything had souped-up Chevy SmallBlocks and Big-Blocks. There were hundreds.
The car was slightly customized — it had Buick side-trim.
I attempted to talk to the car’s owner, a heavily tattooed sullen dude.
“Main thing is it’s a Flatty,” I said; “and it has aluminum Navarro high-compression heads.”
“It’s a nice car,” he solemnly intoned.
“So I should vote for 115?” I asked
“Don’t ask me!” he growled.
Herewith:
Best-in-Show. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Many of the cars I recognized from previous shows. The red-and-creme ’49 Pontiac utility wagon, for example.
But not that ’62 Olds.
Unrestored, and bone stock.
1962 was the year I graduated high-school.
Inundated with souped-up custom cars, but here we have a bone-stock ’62 Olds, stock 394 cubic-inch engine, never been opened. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
“I write a blog,” I told the owner of a cherry stock ’62 Oldsmobile.
“I’ll blog this show with pictures, and I just took a picture overlooking the show, and your car is front-and-center.”
I attended the Master Tech Car Show yesterday east of Canandaigua.
My friend Jim LePore (“luh-POOR”) was showing his SS Camaro.
I was impressed.
Hundreds of souped-up hyper-cars were on display, some even altered in appearance = customized.
Mainly they were hotrods, hyped for maximum performance.
Every once in a while one would rev up through the gears.
A fabulous sound for this old car-guy.
A ’70 Camaro rumbled in. It had a hood-bulge at least a foot high. Even at idle it was assaulting the ground with tinny exhaust blasts.
But no one was burning out — I guess they have a rule.
Master Tech claims they do car repair. But inside their service-bays were a G-T-O, a 396 Chevelle, two turbocharged Buick Grand Nationals, plus a 454 Monte Carlo.
I have a hunch many of the cars on display at some time were in a Master Tech service bay.
Not all the cars on display were hotrods.
Some were bedraggled, in need of restoration.
 |
| Still majestic. (Photo by BobbaLew.) |
Faded paint, but still impressive.
Its motor was covered with grease and grime, but I guess it still ran.
That is, it drove to the show and parked.
So there it sat amidst all the glittering hotrods.
It attracted more attention than most.
Its owner was holding court.
“it was originally coral and white, but at some time was repainted blue.”
He had the left taillight up, exposing the gas-filler.
Memories.
I had my dog with me, so few photographs.
It ain’t easy taking pictures yanked by a pulling dog.
Plus I hafta make sure she doesn’t scarf someone’s hamburger.
She loves going to car shows. “Oh what a beautiful dog,” and “Can I pet your dog?”
“Over here you monster. This guy wants to say hello.”
Fabulous cars as far as the eye could see.
They had us voting for “Best-in-Show.”
For me that was #115, a black ’50 Ford two-door sedan. It had an actual FlatHead motor, probably the only Flatty there. Everything had souped-up Chevy SmallBlocks and Big-Blocks. There were hundreds.
The car was slightly customized — it had Buick side-trim.
I attempted to talk to the car’s owner, a heavily tattooed sullen dude.
“Main thing is it’s a Flatty,” I said; “and it has aluminum Navarro high-compression heads.”
“It’s a nice car,” he solemnly intoned.
“So I should vote for 115?” I asked
“Don’t ask me!” he growled.
Herewith:
Best-in-Show. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Many of the cars I recognized from previous shows. The red-and-creme ’49 Pontiac utility wagon, for example.
But not that ’62 Olds.
Unrestored, and bone stock.
1962 was the year I graduated high-school.
posted by BobbaLew at 10:47 AM
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