In Defense of Henry – Something More than Transportation

Sometimes it seems like everybody wants my Henry dead. It seems almost inevitable that when they see him or hear his tale, their eyebrows shoot up and they don that look that says, “OK…I’m being polite but I can’t believe you kept him.” But I’m stubborn and no matter that the popular opinion may be, Henry is here to stay. Period.

Henry is a 1987 Ford F-150. Pretty boring, right? Why in the world would I write a column about a 1987 Ford truck? Certainly there are far more exciting vehicles to write about. And I do own some fun stuff which I’ve written about along with whatever else has caught my attention. In fact, the last column I wrote was about my 1967 Austin Mini. I wrote about the adventure we had bringing him up to Alaska and then loading him up on a trailer and pulling him down to Washington State when we moved last October. But when I was going through my photos of that trip, almost all of them had my old boy Henry in the background. Oh sure it was a feat to see the little Mini all bundled up on the trailer but which rig was doing all the work? It got me thinking.

Some time ago, while we were still living in Alaska, my wife and I decided we needed a truck and trailer. The problem was; both are sold at sky-high prices in Alaska compared to most of the “lower 48”. So we began looking in Washington and soon discovered that I could buy a brand-new double-axle trailer for less than a 1/3 the cost of used ones in Alaska. The savings alone justified the gas needed to pull it up the Alaska Highway no matter what rig you used. And speaking of the rig…there was the matter of the truck we also needed. We didn’t want new; this was going to be a truck we only used occasionally and we couldn’t justify payments on something that was going to be parked most of the time. We shopped around via the internet and came up with $5,000 as our target range. For that price it appeared we could easily get a truck in Washington that we could trust to not only make the trip up the highway, but also suit our needs once in Alaska. I wasn’t too particular on the brand. Never have been a “brand-loyal” guy. I find the whole “Ford/Chevy/Dodge” argument to be dumb as they have all turned out their hits and misses. I know my rigs and I paid attention to what engine it had etc.

The author’s daughter Portia tracking their route down the Alcan Highway and maintaining a watchful eye on her treasured avocado plant

As I was wasting a lunch-break on Craigslist one day, there he was; an old F-150 was being offered up for only $1,200. But it wasn’t just some random old truck. I knew and recognized him from my old hometown in Port Orchard, Washington. The original owner was an elderly gentleman who had purchased it brand new in 1987 and driven it around town until his passing. After that, the truck had sat. And sat. But now the widow had decided to get rid of it. My interest stemmed from the fact that I (sort of) knew the history of the truck and it had only just cracked 100k miles. But the big selling point for me was the fact that it had Ford’s mighty 300 cubic-inch straight-6. 100k miles on these motors is nothing. The last one I was familiar with had over 700k miles on it and had never been rebuilt. Anybody that knows their trucks knows just how amazing these engines are. You’ll never break a speed record in them but they will run, and run, and run some more. It also had a 4-speed manual transmission. So for a measly $1,200 I could actually score a pretty decent tow rig for my light trailer. But when I made the call…the truck had been sold. Sigh. Oh well. I decided to keep looking. A couple weeks later, there he was again. Same truck but…different ad. And now he was going for $1,500. Oh great, a craigslist “flipper” had got hold of him. After some pondering I made the call anyway.

The kid on the end of the line tried giving me a bit of make-believe about the truck and I just did the “Uh-huh. Yeah. Right. Sure thing.” bit as he tried to make his pitch. After a few minutes of that I grew impatient and told him I was familiar with the truck and its background to save us both time. He paused, then conceded that he’d just picked it up and was trying to re-sell it for a few bucks. I think being caught trying to get creative was the reason I was able to talk him down to $1,200 (I’m curious what he paid for it). My mother lived a few miles up the road and I had the young man drive it to her house where she fired up the skype and I did the deal that way. It sounded loud and I was told it would need an exhaust. Made sense since the truck had been sitting for years. So, I now had the truck and trailer sitting at my mother’s house. Time to make a trip. After having a friend go over the brakes, change the oil and all that I flew down to Washington to get the truck. Turned out it didn’t need a muffler after all; the young man had sawed off the catalytic converter before selling it. Cute. So I had that taken care of, replaced the windshield wipers and all the other little things that suffer when a rig sits too long and…off I went to Alaska. I wasn’t very far into the trip when I suddenly felt very, very dumb. I mean…I was off on a 2,500 mile trip on one of the roughest highways in North America in a 20-something year old truck that I had only laid eyes on for the first time the day before. What could possibly go wrong? Well for starters the alternator starting playing games with me somewhere out the wilderness. Luckily it turned out to be a loose wire that was easily fixable in a dirt parking lot by some old lodge over 100 miles from the nearest town. But something else happened between Port Orchard, Washington and Palmer, Alaska; I starting becoming quite fond of the truck that I began calling “Henry”. His captain chairs were extremely comfortable, he was pulling the trailer (with the Ford Focus my mother had given me on it) with ease (if not speed), and the gas mileage wasn’t that bad all-things-considered. With each 100 miles I put on the odometer, I was becoming more and more happy with this old goat that was taking care of me as I made this crazy trip.

By the time I pulled into my driveway 4 days later, Henry was my champion. While I had originally pondered flying to Washington, grabbing the truck and hey…if I wasn’t crazy about it, I could sell it in Alaska for a lot more than I had paid….there was absolutely no way I was ever going to part with him now. So Henry became our Alaskan farm truck…for a while.

Not too long after that, we received word that my in-laws were both very sick and there would be no cure. My wife began making countless back-and-forth trips until we finally decided we had no choice but to move to Washington where her folks lived. Yes, I had just driven up the Alaska Highway and was now facing turning around just a few months later and heading back down again. So on a blustery, cold October morning I headed out of Palmer with my Henry once-again loaded up and pulling a trailer that was loaded this time with my Austin Mini. And on this journey I had my two youngest children with me (my wife had to stay behind and finish packing up as I had to be at my new job in Washington in mere days). The snow was literally chasing us out of Alaska and the temperatures were down to 14 degrees. “Henry, don’t fail me” played in my head more times than I could count. And he didn’t. We had the road-trip of our lives as we chug-chug-chugged down to Washington, feeling the air become warmer and warmer each day we headed south. When we finally arrived in Washington, I had only one day to relax before heading to my new job. It was a 15 mile commute each way and the only rig I had (the Mini wasn’t a daily driver) was old Henry. So even after a trip like that, here I was driving back and forth in that trusty truck. Whenever I need to replace the truck lights, I purchase only from trusted shops like truckelectrics.com.

A long journey deserves a thorough wash

As we shopped for cars to replace the ones we had sold and left in Alaska, it was Henry that slogged through that wet, rainy sloppy Washington winter. My wife got a job and sometimes we had to double-duty him. To this day he has never, ever let us down. But last November, we came close. As we traveled down the highway we were suddenly hit by a driver who had inexplicably crossed over two lanes and caught us in the right-rear. It threw us into a spin and as I tried to correct he broad-sided us again and there was nothing I could do. Henry spun 90 degrees and came to rest when the rear axle high-centered on the guard rail. I was disappointed but became downright furious when the other driver tried to play games with the State Patrol regarding the truth (he claimed it was us that hit him). Fortunately the skid marks, witnesses etc. made it easy for the police to investigate and he was found at fault. When the insurance company finished their investigation they said exactly what I knew they would say: they were declaring Henry a loss. I was surprised that they valued him at $4,200 but when they said I could buy him back (with a salvage title) for $4,000…I instantly said I would keep him. Everybody was surprised. What did I want with an old truck that now had a caved in bed and large dent on the passenger-side cab? But there was no way I was going to watch Henry go to a scrap yard and get parted out. I couldn’t bear the thought. And besides, he still drove just fine. Just to be on the safe-side I had him checked out and they confirmed what I already knew: there was nothing mechanically wrong with him. Frame, axles, driveline…everything checked out.

So today I drive around a smashed 1987 Ford F-150. Am I occasionally embarrassed? Mmm….yeah. But in the long run, I don’t care. Truth be told, Henry is my favorite rig hands down. If somebody said I had to get rid of all my cars…even my “toys”…and could only keep one, there would be no hesitation. Henry would still be in the garage when the dust settled. On paper he’s worth very little but to me he is invaluable. I feel a debt to him after that trip there-and-back on the Alaska Highway where he kept myself and my two little children warm and safe, all while pulling a heavy load. How could I simply send him off to get scrapped or abused after that? And besides…he’s pleasant to drive. Now that we have a full complement of cars again I don’t have to drive Henry but sometimes I do anyway. I laugh at myself for making some excuse to drive him instead of just admitting that I enjoy it.

I had an estimate done a few months back and yes, the amount to get him redone was pricey ($4,500) but you know what? When I can, I’m going to do it anyway. So what if that’s more than he’s worth to Kelley Blue Book, NADA or my father-in-law. Henry deserves it.

by Ben Compton