North to South - The Journey

By Steve Mines

I had wanted a little Datsun 510 since my high school days when two of my friends each had one. The memory of blasting through corners still brings smiles to us all. Theirs were four-door cars though and I wanted the two-door model. The closest I had ever come to owning one was during my junior high-school days, and it was an AFX HO- scale slot car, with the familiar BRE paint scheme. I still own that one today. Dreams are free and 510's, though fairly affordable back then, were not to me. I rented a 510 racecar for a day several years ago and had such a blast I knew I still wanted a 510 of my own someday. Street or race, it didn't matter.

While browsing through the now well-known internet auction house "EBAY" I came across an interesting looking Datsun 510 for sale. It was a 1972 2-Door model and had an extra that really caught my eye. In place of the standard 1600cc four cylinder motor, a previous owner of the car squeezed in a 3500cc (215 c.i.) Oldsmobile aluminum block V8. This same basic motor design now resides in all Rover V8's. GM sold the tooling to them back in the 60's. Well, well, well, what a nice little upgrade, I thought to myself. Street legal? Yes it was, but plenty racy with wide tires, flared fenders, roll bar and the prerequisite lowered stance. Even better yet, the car was in Portland, Oregon. I was heading to Portland to visit my Uncle Jeff and Aunt Stephanie only two days after the auction was scheduled to end. So, if I played my cards right and won the auction, I could be driving back home in my OWN Datsun 510 instead of flying.

Fast-forward to the night, well morning actually, of the ending auction (for some reason the seller had the auction closing at approximately 2:00am). He had a reserve on the auction and wasn't telling anyone what the dollar figure was to meet that reserve. He said that it was more fun not knowing the reserve. Well maybe for him it was, it didn't do a thing for me. The auction price was currently at $3,300 and the reserve had not been met. Being an experienced past user of EBAY, I waited until the last moment to snipe (steal) the auction without driving the price up any further by bidding days before it's end time. As an EBAY sniper you must set in your mind a maximum that you will be willing to spend, enter your bid, and take your best shot. Bidding with only minutes, and sometimes under a minute, before the auction ends you usually only get one shot at winning. I set in my mind (and checkbook) a maximum of $4,500, punched that in and hit the BID button. WOW, the reserve was met and the dollar figure was only $3,700, a full $800 less than what I had set as a maximum. I sat there for about ninety seconds anxiously waiting for the auction to end and hopefully not be sniped myself. I had been beaten only once before in a prior auction and that sniper had taken me out with only seven seconds remaining in the auction, though it was for a small ticket item and I wasn't too disappointed. All I could do in that case was applaud his superior tactics. Time moved ever so slowly and finally the auction ended. I had won this Datsun 510, this modified beast of a little car.

After a few days waiting for the car due to registration issues (another whole story) the little Datsun was now in my possession. A trip to the parts store for some "just in case" emergency breakdown items, an oil change and a new set of rear tires and I was set for the drive home. After another completely enjoyable trip to Oregon, the time fast approached for my departure. I had done this drive twice before. The first time was maybe twenty years ago, the second about only four years ago. That first time was with my mother and involved stopovers. I don't remember how long that trip actually took, but it was stress free. The more recent trip was with my nephew in a convertible Mustang rental car. Can you say Banzai run? Straight to Los Angeles in approximately 12-13 hours. I knew that you could, and we did! That however was in a new Mustang that I didn't own and had little worries of breaking down. The 510 was another story, it was an old car, I had no experience with its quirks and needs, and it was geared way wrong for highway blasting. Having only a four-speed transmission and a great street gearing setup, a 1000-mile highway trip was going to be interesting. Have I mentioned yet that the car has NO radio, NO heater, and NO air conditioner? Well, throw that into the equation too.

I decide that leaving at sun up was a good idea; I would get a jump on traffic and not have to worry about navigating unfamiliar territory in the dark. 5:00 AM hits and my alarm goes off, a restless night of sleep is over and I spring out of bed ready for the drive. Getting into the car, it fires right up. Crap, no gas in the tank, I really should have filled the tank the night before. No worries, I'll just cruise on down to the gas station, fill her up and be on my way. To the first street and go right, or was that left? Crap!!! One street and I am already lost. I tell myself it is a right and head out. To the first Stop sign and I convince myself I was going the wrong way, U-turn and I am headed the other direction. Then a left and on down the mountain from Jeff's house I go, in search of a gas station and then the freeway. Why don't any of these streets look familiar to me? Crap, lost again. Oh well, just keep heading down and to the North towards the freeway. I find a gas station and fill up. I'll just confirm with the gas station attendant that the freeway is over there. He doesn't know, oh brother, what happened to the days when those guys knew where the hell everything was? Who needs him? I found the freeway anyway, right where it always has been. Los Angeles, California here we come!

I enjoy the early morning lack of traffic and cool air, wearing my jacket and the Porsche cap Jeff had given me for the ride. He also gave me a really cool little Japanese rising sun flag to go along with the Datsun = Japanese car thing, more on the flag shortly. I found out later that a Datsun 510 of my year's vintage has a 12-gallon gas tank. Mate a 12-gallon gas tank with a V-8 and street gearing and guess what kind of mileage and travel distance you get? Crap, that's what! Add into the fact that I wasn't used to the roads and where I would find gas stations along the way. I tried to err on the safe side. It was 5:20 AM when I left that first gas station. My second stop comes at 8:00 AM, 161.2 miles closer to LA. If my calculations are correct, I am averaging about 55 miles per hour, running at about 3,500 rpm, sounding all the while like it is revving much higher. The tachometer actually reads double (it's a V8 vs. 4 cyl. thing) and the speedometer says I am doing 70 to 75, though I know that is off. Every time that I look at the tach and it is reading 7,000+ rpm I wince just a little and remind myself it's doubled. This is going to be a long ride. It was shortly after this first stop that I started wishing I had driven my truck up, rented a trailer and towed the car home.

Along with the usual amenities that were missing (radio, air, heat), was the lack of any type of cruise control. Did I mention earlier that there was no gas pedal? Only the little metal bar and a nut that is welded on for attachment of a gas pedal was what I was driving with. For short distances you don't even notice it, really. Start driving hundreds of miles though and that little sucker starts imbedding itself into your foot. I started thinking of ways to relieve the pain. Change feet, from right to left, which lasts a few minutes and is extremely uncomfortable. Hmmm, do I have any bricks in here? Crap!!! No bricks, but remember the Japanese flag, it's mounted on a wooden dowel, which is about two feet long. If I can just roll up the flag, the pointed end may just fit into the area of the gas pedal bar with the welded on nut. Doing all this on the fly at 55 mph of course, trying to watch where I am on the lane, etc. is way fun. Take out a napkin I brought in my jacket and fold it up for padding on my hand against the wooden dowel and ta-da, home made, low budget, on the fly cruise control! That is if you can call that control. I can now go for a pretty long time until my hand falls asleep from the pressure and by then my foot has rested up and can take its turn. Back and forth, hand then foot, foot then hand, for the rest of what turns out to be a 1,038.7-mile journey.

My next stop is at 11:00 AM in beautiful picturesque HILT, CA. At the Hilt Road Exit, one-half mile south of the Oregon border off of Interstate 5, I am in California finally. Hell, I'll be home soon. Not hardly. By this time it was getting warm, I had shed the jacket and the mountain's inclines and heat together were having an effect on the Datsun's temperature gauge. It was rising, CRAP. One of my emergency supplies was a one-gallon container of distilled water, just in case. For some reason there was no overflow tank installed, must be that cooler Oregon climate and short run usage of the Datsun by its previous owners. Now each stop included gassing up, hitting the restroom, grabbing a cold drink, and also refilling the radiator to the top. The State Line Service Station in Hilt is worth the stop if you happen to be in the area. It has a neat little museum, a decent grill and downright cool local people. I left Hilt after a nice burger and a break from the gas pedal at 11:30am. A full tank of gas, a full radiator and a full stomach courtesy of State Line Service.

Next stop is at 1:50 PM somewhere north of Sacramento and hotter than hell, both the car and I. Of course this day has to just be one of the hottest days of the year. This is getting so old. I now long for my air-conditioned, comfortable truck with a trailer on the rear and the Datsun sitting on that trailer. A truck passes me with an empty car trailer and I consider trying to catch him and beg him to tow me home. That dream ended as he disappeared from view of my 55 mph slow-driving self. Another stop at 5:50 PM and I have now been on the road for nearly thirteen hours. I am now 661.7 miles closer to Los Angeles and home. Bed, bed, bed, is all I keep thinking. For those keeping score, the MPH average is now around 51 due to the extended stops for cooling and fueling.

I am now starting to look at all the roadside motels as I cruise by each one, thinking it would be nice to just pull in, grab a room, take a shower, hit a bed and sleep. I decide to go just a bit further as that will be just a bit less that I have to drive. Maybe some dinner will go over and, at my 9:20 PM stop, I enjoy a Grilled Chicken Caesar Salad at the Red Robin in some unknown little gas stop town. I turn that stop into a forty-minute food and refueling stop. I call my girl, my Mom, and Jeff to let them all know I am still alive and well, continuing home, though at a snail's pace. Feeling refreshed and just wanting to be home in my own bed I forge on ahead. Next stop, 11:25 PM for fuel. Landmarks are now familiar. I am now only 87.3 miles from home and damn well determined to make it or die trying. Temperatures have dropped back down and both the Datsun and I are now running much cooler. I have begun pushing down on the gas pedal a little harder and am running 62-65 mph. Wow, we are really flying now. If I only had a five speed, I would have been home hours ago, CRAP.

Feeling like I have been beaten against a wall repeatedly by a dozen upset, really huge gorillas, I finally arrive at home. Los Angeles time is now 12:55 AM, only twenty-one hours after I had left Portland. I park the car in the garage, say a huge thank you to her for not breaking down on this hellish trip and pass out. Did I mention that this was now Monday morning and I had to be at work at 8:00 AM? Oh CRAP !!!

Enjoy the ride!!!

Steve Mines Owner: 1972 Datsun 510 2-Door w/V8