Patience is a virtue for a truck-based 1949 Chevrolet

This story begins in July of 1977 in Vermont. I was a 19-year-old on vacation with my girlfriend Cindy and her family.

They had rented a cottage near Ludlow, and I was invited to come along. It was a beautiful summer day and we decided to go to a local farm stand to get some fruit and vegetables. While driving to the farm stand, we passed a field where an old woodie was parked in the middle. I didn’t really take notice of it until we were on the way back to the cottage. I could then see that it was an old woodie. I thought how cool is that!

The next day I was still thinking about that woodie, and I said I wanted to take a closer look at it.

We drove back to the field and I looked around to find the farmer’s house. I did not want to be trespassing on someone’s land. There was a house about 500 yards down a dirt road, and I assumed it must be the farmer’s house.