From Moss Motoring 1984
l remember the day as if it was only yesterday. It seems hard to believe that it was over ten years ago.
The sticker price was $4,255.35, including preparation and polish and inland freight. The TR-6 was one of two in stock. It was French blue, while the other one was red with the optional hardtop and wire wheels. My thoughts were (and still are) that hardtops belong on other cars, but not on TR-6’s. Thus, the cosmoline blue one was the only choice.
It was May 3, 1973, a perfect day. Low 70’s, bright and cloud-free, it was a nice day to pick up that first new car. My father had agreed to drop me off at the dealership. Yes, I had called the insurance agent and, yes, the car would be insured as of noon on 5/3/73. And, yes, I knew that it was only 11 A.M. And, yes, I knew that the insurance rate for a sportscar was considerably more than for a “normal” car. And, yes, this “paper-topped British piece of junk” would be troublesome and expensive to fix and keep running. And teachers don’t make a lot of money, and there is still time to cancel the deal and buy a Pontiac.
The trip to the dealer was indeed a long one. But as we drove up to the dealership, the ‘TR’ was parked on the front line, poised as if to say, “I’ve been made for you.” My heart and mind weren’t normal for those few moments while the papers were signed. The handshake ended the transaction, and the keys were handed over. A lesson on folding the “paper top” followed. Finally, that long-awaited, glorious moment arrived.
“What do you mean; it’s only 11:45 and I can’t drive the car home yet? There won’t be any problems. By the time I get to Route 72, it will be noon and I will be insured. Okay, I’ll be very careful.”
I turned the key, my heart stopped as the car roared instantly to life. The exhaust note was instantly etched into my brain. I checked all the instruments and gauges. Wow, I can’t believe this. This must be a dream. A TR-6! All those years of reading, studying and comparing. A TR-6! “Well, here goes!”
I eased the clutch out and slowly drove away. My father was behind me, and I could barely hear him yell, “You be careful…still ten minutes…insurance!”
Those first few minutes on Route 15 will always be fresh in my mind. Oh, that exhaust note. The large tachometer needle as it gracefully swept across the large face. The smell of a new car, not any car, a TR-6! The wood dash. I still was not fully in control. I glanced in my side mirror and my father was still there. I looked up and the light in front of me was yellow, no, red! I couldn’t believe it! In the car 90 seconds, and I had missed the first red light that I had come upon! I was glad to see that my father had the sense to stop. I shifted into third.
by Paul DesRosiers
'Short Story – The First Ride' have 3 comments
September 6, 2016 @ 7:50 am FusionPilot
I think I recognize the location – Route 15 in Berlin, Connecticut. I bought my ’71 there, also. It was new; I traded in a 1967 VW Fastback for it. It was my 30th birthday present to me. A ‘second childhood’ when I could finally afford to own one of those British sports cars I had longed for in college. I had attended college in California and belonged to the Sports Car Club, even though any kind of sports car was beyond my financial reach. But I got to enjoy riding in TR3s, MGAs, Healeys, a Jag XK120, and even a bugeye Sprite. And yes, I know the feeling.
I didn’t own the TR6 for more than a year and a half – our infant daughter got bigger and could no longer ride on the back “shelf” behind the seats (child seats didn’t exist then). It wasn’t until 2012, I was able to buy a second TR6 (a 1976), a retirement gift from me to me and my ‘third childhood’. The thrill is back.
September 7, 2016 @ 7:03 am Greg Fantozzi
I was never fortunate to own a TR6 in the 60s or 70s. I was drafted out of college in 70, junior year, by the time I was out, married and working with our first child, they stopped making the cars I had loved and dreamed of owning as a teen! Then, I also retired and in my second childhood followed my dream and bought a car that required a frame off restoration taking eight years to complete. I now have the opportunity to drive the car of my youth that I never owned. Regardless of the quirks, it is a blast to drive and feel the air through my now very thin white hair.
September 6, 2016 @ 1:20 pm Howard McCluskey
I sure know the feeling. I am now 76 yrs and have been lucky enough to get (back) my ’75 TR6 that I sold 18 yrs ago still in the great unrestored condition as I sold it in. Age is just a number. I am in good health(questionable) and still love my British sport cars