I just returned from an 1,100-mile towing adventure involving our long-term 2009 Dodge Ram 1500
and my 1970 Plymouth GTX. In terms of drama it had to be one of the most boring tow trips I've experienced. The Dodge proved extremely capable over the mountain passes between Denver and Los Angeles, and even the triple-digit temps in Arizona and Nevada didn't upset the truck's cool, collected demeanor.
But not all my towing adventures have been so blissful. So for the benefit of those who like to learn from others' screw-ups, I present 5 Towing Tales to Terrorize:
1. When I was about 8 my aunt gave my oldest brother her car. It was a 1954 Chrysler New Yorker station wagon. It was actually in pretty good shape overall, but the engine wouldn't run so my Dad decided to tow it home...from Pennsylvania to Colorado...with our family station wagon and all of us aboard. It was going well until the Chrysler came unhooked in Kansas. At night. In the middle of a blinding snow storm. It took awhile to locate it, but thankfully it had landed in a famer's field with no real damage. We talked to the farmer, left it there, and eventually had it towed the last 500 miles by someone who knew how to properly hook up a tow bar.
2. When I was 15 we were towing a 1967 Dodge Coronet 500 home. I had just paid the princely sum of $150 for it, and while the body was extremely clean and straight, it had no drivetrain. It also had no steering wheel, but my brothers threw one on from another car and off we went. Except the steering wheel came off about 5 minutes later. I was riding with my oldest brother in the tow vehicle and I watched the Coronet (driven by my other bother) take out a speed limit sign before jumping a curb and blowing out both front tires. The car was then dragged across a church lawn, creating a rooster tail of dirt and grass that would make any water skier proud. We quickly got the thing stopped without killing anyone. The front tires were re-mounted and pumped back up at a local gas station, we re-mounted the steering wheel (and even put on a locking nut!) and slinked away...
3. Six months after the Coronet purchase I located a 1968 Dodge Charger R/T in a junkyard. The bottom 25 percent of the quarter panels were gone (from rust), the engine was seized and it had no title. But it was otherwise complete, with the original drivetrain, and for $250 it was too good to pass up. But we wanted it to get it into our garage and the driveway slope made pushing it by hand nearly impossible. So after towing it to within a few hundred yards of the garage we unhooked it, pulled in behind and put a tire in-between the Charger and my parent's wagon to push it up to speed and hope it would coast up the driveway. But the tire kept falling out, so I decided to sit on the wagon's hood and hold it in place as my brother drove up to about 35 mph and my other brother steered the Charger. It eventually got into the garage and I didn't die (which makes this both a terrorizing tow story and a success story in my mind).
4. My brother decides to tow a friend's car to her house because it's been at my parents' house for weeks and he hasn't gotten around to fixing it. It's a mid-70s Toyota Corolla with a manual transmission. He tells me to keep the slack out of the rope, puts me in the Corolla, then gets into his Dodge Super Bee and starts driving up our street. At 15 I'd never "driven" a car being towed before, but it looked easy enough. We get to the top of the street, he stops for the stop sign, I push what I think is the brake pedal to the floor and the Corolla goes bouncing into his rear bumper (with minimal damage, thankfully). Did I mention I hadn't driven a manaul shift yet? "Oh, so the pedal on the left isn't the brake pedal in this car? That would explain the minimal resistance I felt when I pushed down on it."
5. My oldest brother's 1960 Chrysler 300F is stranded about two miles from our house with a dead battery. He asks me to help him tow it home with my 1969 Plymouth GTX (now I'm 16 and actually have a legal driver's licence). We head down, hook the Chrysler up, but then he says, "You know, these early Torqueflght transmissions can actually start a vehicle if you get them going fast enough, just like a manual transmission." I'm like, "Really? How fast do you have to go?" He says with utter calm, "Oh, about 30." Sounds easy to me so off we go. But after about 20 mph I start chickening out. All I see in my rearview mirror is a huge Chrysler grill right off my bumper, and going even faster isn't my idea of fun. My brother tries engaging "Drive" twice with no success at around 20 mph, and he keeps yelling at me to go faster. Finally I relent as we're on the last stretch of long, straight road before we get home. I floor the gas and the GTX leaps to about 40 mph (even with that full-size beast in tow). Of course we're doing this at night and suddenly I see his headlights blaze to life. We stop, unhook the cars and I tell him "I'm never doing that again!"
Sometimes I wonder how I made it out of my teens...
But the act of towing a vehicle opens up the potential for all sorts of nefarious possibilities. I hesitate to think of what's gone on out there when two vehicles and a chain or rope come together. If you've got any terrorizing tow tales, please share.
By ksm1
on July 21, 2009
08:00 AM
Karl,
Thanks for the great stories. My first begins, like a lot of stories (youth and a friend). A friend and I, both 16 are working on his old “Baja Bug” and for whatever reason we had to tow it. The Bug had a tow bar built onto it and my friend’s dad had a new shop truck with a tow ball on the bumper. We thought we were good as gold. We hooked it up and off we went. We got a block from my friend’s house and the bug popped free of the truck and crashed into the back of the truck. The only damage was the bent bumper of the truck. The obvious thing that neither my friend or I knew at 16 was that tow balls come in different sizes. This was a lesson that his father later taught us as we presented him with his new truck with the mangled bumper.
By the_big_al
on July 21, 2009
09:23 AM
I did a lot of towing when I was a kid too (I blew up 3 engines in 3 different cars and all 3 of those had to be towed at least a couple of different times to different places), but the one that pops into my mind was the night I got my '82 Sierra Classic stuck in the mud. This truck used to be an old farm truck of my grandads. After I blew the motor in my '84 Laser, he gave it me to drive while I fixed it. Well I never go around to it and a year later I am still driving the truck. He didn't care, as it was basically an extra vehicle. I don't know how many miles this thing had on it, but it was a farm truck and looked like it.
It had a 350 in it and had to huge holes in the muffler. I had also managed to rip the remains of them off one night romping around in the desert and so it just had two pipes that ended where the cab met the bed. No muffler, no cat. The thing was gutless, but at least it was loud. It also canted left from a sagging suspension and had 4 different sized tires on it. It had a propane tank in the back from the days of it running on Propane (yes, propane or natural gas was around even before it became "cool" to use it).
Anyway, one night on a lunch break from work, a buddy of mine and I were out in the desert at some dunes after a recent rainstorm. After scaling a couple of dunes designed only for buggys or 4wd; my truck was only a 2wd long bed, and getting half way up a 30 degree slope and almost falling off the edge backing back down, we found a 75 yard long mud hole that was just starting to dry out. It was the perfect combination of wet sticky mud and water. We couldn't resist. I started out by gunning it and only dropping in half the truck at a time. I would put the driver's side in and keep the passenger side on dry ground. Then I would turn around and do the other. In this manner we were able to succeed in coating the entire truck with mud and goop without getting stuck. After a few runs of that, I looked at the hole and gauged its size again.
Then thought "to hell with it", backed up as far as I could and gunned it. That 350 roar split the night, the bald odd sized tires spun and kicked the dirt and eventually, I found traction. I raced forward and hit the hole. Mud, water and slime sprayed everywhere. Over the hood, onto the windshield, and everywhere else. For a bit everything seemed to be going good. I just kept the pedal to the floor and hoped my momentum would carry me through. We almost made it. Right at the end however, there was a droppoff of sorts. More like and abrupt edge to the end of the hole rather than a gradual beach like exit. The front end rammed right into this edge and the truck just plowed to a stop. The rear tires were up to the axles in mud and water, the front end buried up to the bumper. I couldn't move forward or backward.
Great, I thought. So we get out trudge through the mud, get out of the hole and start to hike. We are in the middle of the desert somewhere at night about a mile from any civilization. Plus we are about 4 miles from work on an hour lunch break. We ended up hiking all the way back to work where I another buddy had a 4wd Dodge and he said he would come help get me out after shift. At that point there wasn't much I could do except go back to work until then. After work we went back to the site. I crawled in the mud with a tow hook, except in the dark I couldn't really tell what I was hooking it to. I thought I hooked it to the frame, but I ended up with it connected to the bumper. I got in my truck, started in and put it in gear. I gave my buddy the all clear sign and I thought he would take off slowly and tight the slack and then proceed to pull me out. Instead, he gunned it took off and snapped the rope tight. I heard this wrenching sound of bending metal, felt the truck jerk forward and then climb out of the hole.
After getting out of the hole, I got out and looked at the damage. Because of where I had hooked it, I had managed to pull and twist the bumper almost halfway off. Not bad enough that it was hanging, but bad enough that there was a serious bend in it and gap between it and the truck. But at least I was free. I thanked my buddy, got in my truck and drove it around covered in mud for a few days to relive my glory. Oh and I never fixed the bumper either.
By vvk
on July 21, 2009
10:47 AM
I once towed a 1983 Buick Century with a Subaru Justy across town. I did not think it was anything special.
By steve_
on July 21, 2009
01:59 PM
I don't care what you are pulling - I'm going to stay as far away from you as I can. As far as I'm concerned you should have to get a special endorsement on your license to tow anything. Trying to tow a utility trailer with my short wheel base CJ-5 soured me, and I was good enough that I could almost back the thing up.
But towing cars doesn't seem too bad. It's the guys with the homemade trailers pulling a load of firewood that are the most deadly.
By aurakr
on July 21, 2009
07:14 PM
I towed a 1991 Toyota Corolla with a 1986 Chevrolet Nova, 5 speed. In the course of about 15 miles, our tow strap came off 3 times. I was able to get to 3rd gear, not bad. The last time the tow strap broke, I had to push him up a hill to his house.
No permanent damage to either engine or clutch, but I wouldn't try it again. The bonus, no encounters with local police who I am sure would not have looked kindly upon our actions.
By scott65
on July 21, 2009
08:34 PM
Haah those stories were great Karl@ :)