*Above: Leaving My Garage in Winnipeg
On July 9, 1999, my dad and I set out on our 420 mile trip to Moose Jaw from Winnipeg. My Uncle came along too, so that there would be someone to drive as an escort. We should have balanced the tires before we left; a vibration forced us to drive a little slower than we would have liked.
After about 120 miles, we realized that the brakes had stopped working. Using the driveshaft brake, we pulled over at a gas station parking lot. One of the front left wheel cylinders had gone and sprayed fluid all over the wheel well. The only thing we could do was cut the hose at that wheel, shove a screw into it, and clamp it with a screw clamp. We then bled the whole system again and headed off with three good brakes.
At about the half way point we decided that we didn't need the escort. The car was running great and we were feeling pretty confident. The old girl made it the rest of the way without a hitch. We were just driving up in front of my dad's house when the tube in a back tire let go. It was a prayer that had been holding that tire together. We didn't have a spare.
We were pretty impressed. The 57 had made it. That's after sitting outside for 16 years! The old 727 shifted like a dream. In fact, my dad felt that it shifted better than the 727 we got out of my GTX and dropped in his 68 Fury 1 Highway Pursuit car.
*Below: My Dad, The Imperial, and The First Gas Stop
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