drivingusa.com is the result of a lifetime fascination with American cars, a small budget and the impracticalities of owning a Yank in London.
I've had a fondness for the oversized autos associated with our American cousins since my first visit to the country in 1980. Cruising around California in a Trans-Am is pretty cool any time, even more so when you're 8 years old.
Ever since then, and fed on a constant diet of American cop shows with squealing landyachts hard to miss, I've been a big fan of classic American cars.
The long of the law and a 1962 Chevy Impala
 In 1992 I got to fulfill the dream of owning one of these infamous gas-guzzlers, a 1962 Chevrolet Impala. The 4 door hard-top had seen better days (it cost $400) what with having hardly any interior, a dodgy floor shifter and a 350 cu.in motor that drank about a pint of oil a day.
But the noise of that V8 and the incredible coolness of literally wallowing about in the car made it hard to beat. In 3 months of touring California and Nevada we'd racked up several thousand miles and been stopped by the police more than a dozen times (once at gun point at 4am as we drove into Yosemite National Park - the car was too popular with low-riding gangsters apparently).
Interstates don't have emergency phones
A year later and I graduated on to a slightly less cool but equally American 1977 Impala. The car had been involved in a head-on bump and was purchased for just $700. The bodywork was a few inches off centre at the front but otherwise our FBI-mobile drove like a dream. A leaking water pump was the only bugbear.
 One day on a trip to pick up a friend at San Francisco airport I stopped off to fill up the radiator, tying the hood down onto the twisted bodywork again as usual. Only this time the rope gave way as I pulled back onto the Interstate at 55mph and the hood flipped up, smashing the windshield and wrapped itself over the roof of the car.
Winding down the window, I aimed for the hard shoulder, stopped and walked the two miles to the nearest service station to call the airline. You see the end result above - we decided to use a chain to hold down the scrapyard-sourced replacement hood.
A Rocket to Oregon
The following year was my last excursion to California and my last American car to date, a 1972 Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser. The green paint and fake wood trim must have been the height of cool the year I was born but by 1994 it was looking a bit too retro.
We bought the car for $700 and this time it had the benefit of new tyres, a recent service and a sheath to stash your Bowie knife under the steering column (!). The fact you could lay the rear seats out flat and create a space bigger than a king-sized bed was scary. The car was huge and the 455 Rocket engine (approximately 8 litres) had never heard of fuel economy.
 The ghostbustermobile served us incredibly well (apart from one flat tyre) and went on to live the rest of its days in the wetter climate of Oregon. It may still be providing luxury motoring to some lucky Oregonian now but rising gas prices in the States may well have put paid to its cross-country jaunts. It could always double for a small caravan...
Will work for Mopars
Since 1994 I've been Yank-less in the UK but continue to read Classic American magazine and ponder the opportunity to pick up a decent car for less than my second hand VW Golf. It's the parking that would scare me in London. So if anyone out there has a spare 1969 Plymouth Road Runner or 1970 Dodge Charger RT/SE they'd like to swap for some web development work do get in touch.
Chris Hails
MungoWeb
PO Box 38005
London
SW19 8ZA
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