Saturday, August 18, 2012

The Nash

I can't quite tell if this is maroon, but ours was.  Dad bought it in 1957 in Quebec City.  We were stuck there, waiting for our trailer to arrive on the next ship from England.  This car was large and strong and perfectly capable of pulling a trailer through the Rockies.  That's what the salesman told my dad, anyway. 

The reality was that it could barely get itself over the mountains, let alone the trailer.  We kept a couple of large-ish rocks in the car, and when it overheated and we had to pull over, Mom would hop out and put them under the wheels of the trailer so it wouldn't drag us all the way down, backwards.

There was the time, just outside of Sudbury Ontario when the brakes gave out while we were going down a long hill...that was interesting.  We barrelled down that hill with the trailer trying to get around us, first on one side and then the other. 

By the time we got to Vancouver Island, I had spent entirely too much time in that car, and I hated it.  Now, I think it would be fun to drive it.

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