The Chevy Vega
I’ve been meaning to post about our Chevy Vega for a while, but just haven’t gotten around to it.
I learned to drive in a Chevy Vega and it was my first car. I shared with my brother Rod who is a year older than me.
Rod says it was a 1974 hatchback. My dad says either 1974 or 1975. My guess is 1974. Rod knew that car better than anyone else in our house.
It was bright red Orange. My dad says he got a great deal on it because nobody wanted it in that color.
Ours was manual transmission. Maybe they all were. Who knows?
That car was a major lemon. Not just our car. Every Chevy Vega.
It was the worst car ever made according to many people who know a lot more about cars than me.
It had an alluminum engine. It consumed a ton of oil. And it made noises.
The interior fell apart. The ride was terrible.
But even with all of that abuse I just laid on the Chevy Vega, I have a soft spot in my heart for that car.
I failed my driver’s test in that car. My dad thought we should pass the drivers test in a stick shift. So that’s what I tried to do. But I was so nervous doing the parallel parking test, that I kept stalling out on the clutch. Eventually I passed the drivers test in my parents automatic station wagon.
Before I had a license, my brother used to drive the car.
I really wanted to drive it too.
One day, when my parents were out, I decided to take the Vega for a spin. So I got the keys, went into the driveway, turned on the car, and pulled out of the driveway.
There was a pretty steep hill on the way out of the neighborhood we lived in.
As I was driving down that hill, I passed my parents heading up the hill.
The look I got from both of them is still planted front and center in my brain.
The worst car ever made.