All, When I bought my '73 C10 back in November, my gearhead best friend is who actually went and bought/picked up the truck with my $$. He drove it straight down to his shop -- I only knew we had got it because the OfferUp ad said SOLD! We were both so busy I didn't even eyeball her until I was dog-sitting for him over XMas. The engine, trans, mechanicals are all in great good shape, and the PO did a lot of mods, some well, others not so well. I am not a car guy in general, but my buddy had a shop and restores trucks and older cars for clients and sometimes for friends -- I have helped out with a bunch of projects -- so we planned to fix all the little stuff down at his place. My buddy is truly mad for trucks, and he's a witch when it comes to anything with wheels. For his birthday I got him this fine LP, because it featured Isaac Hayes and Trucks, and "Truck Turner" could be a good nickname/rap-name, plus if we cast Isaac Hayes in metal it would be a bad-ass hood ornament for any truck. But, before we could get together to work on it at all, back in February some Really Bad Stuff went down on the street right in front of his place, like in his driveway. He couldn't get into his building for weeks, and really didn't want his shop and dogs and girlfriend near that area anymore, and then 2020 and widespread panic hit, so he decided to pack it in. So instead of us slowly overhauling everything on my C10, we just tightened all the loose bolts and she helped move all his stuff to storage. A lot of stuff, this picture of one end of the shop should give you some idea. My square is way in the back, feeling short and squat, lonely amongst all the Fords. BTW, this pic shows an unexpected bonus -- she is easy to spot. Super-handy since I have never even tried to park in the narrow space behind our apt building that my roommate and I used to share, even his Civic requires complex maneuvers to get back there. So I street park usually a few blocks away. Often across from a white Checy Nova that AFAIK has never moved. One day recently I parked on my street mid-block, looked up and down and I was literally the only vehicle not black, white, grey or sparkly-beige. No worries about "Dude, where's my truck?" ______________________________________ First we loaded up all his tires and wheels and took them to "the tire guy" in Motebello. He had an absurd number of tires. My buddy had discovered several years ago that replacing the tires on his F500, even with used ones, would cost over $1200, so he found ANOTHER F500 on CL the poor owner had to move ASAP, browbeat the guy down to $300, then after a couple Uber rides to the local AutoStore, managed to start it and drive it back, making it before dark at 35mph, despite blowing two spark plugs en route. So an addiction began... I think he at one point had THREE F500's and an F600 in various stages of disassembly. It meant a lot of big tires: I ended up loading maybe a third of them, but with his truck we got them all in one trip. Sold them, made a little $. Look! Finally a picture of my truck doing work! This is getting long, so TO BE CONTINUED in Part 2: "Police Chases and Oil Spills"