Every so often at the shop, the planets align and great weather lines up with the shop schedule and our photographer, Jesse Cornwell. On such events, we usually wander around the shop looking for shots, but some nights are too inviting to hit the open road with one of these machines.
The machine we chose on this adventure was a 1977 Chevrolet Corvette, that seems kind of bold, because it is. The owner of the shop, Brad, used to race cars many moons ago, and this was one of his race engines. Side pipes and 4:56 gears aided it's the cause, along with a fairly high stall converter and a cold-blooded personality. I can truly say I have never driven a car quite like this.
I know what you were probably thinking, this looks like a car that should be owned by a former high school star quarterback still living out his macho personality of years gone by, and I can't disagree, but I was wrong. With two generous pumps of the pedal, the thing reluctantly came to life, like waking Rip Van Winkle himself after 400 years. Each chug was so labor intensive, but with each round through the firing order, this monster wanted to drive more and more the warmer it got.
Shifting into gear was like unleashing demons as the whole car lurched forward, and out of the shop we went. The rear gearing really made this thing a rocket, which is exactly what I felt like I was piloting. Everything had such a mechanical feel. I almost forgot what driving a modern car was like until a Camry pulled up next to me at a red light with a girl reliving a Justin Bieber concert. Her concerns were lyrics and what to hang from her mirror; while my concern was a big cam pushing through the brakes and into the intersection. Her nose was dealing with a pallet of lip gloss, perfume and chewing gum smells, while mine was straight exhaust and a late 70's GM interior. Two different worlds. Needless to say, I wouldn't have traded for hers.
The car really grew on me as we drove to a couple spots to do some low light shots. Jesse got some great pictures, and I got to drive a brute of a car from a different era. While I wasn't a high school quarterback in the 70s or 80s, I don't usually have a mustache, and I've never had a perm like Thomas Magnum, but I like this car. I stereotyped the car and it proved me wrong. It might not have as much class as its older siblings, but it makes up for that in raw brawn, and goes to prove all cars offer something different. I really loved driving this car.