My dad bought the car in 1973 used with a couple thousand miles on it, and it was his bread and butter until 1982, when I began to drive and he bought a Cutlass. My car was the smurf blue, with a blue interior, air conditioning, power steering, power brakes, and, of course, the slant 6. When I started driving the car, I thought it had about 101,000 on it, but I later realized it was actually 201,000 miles, and I thrashed it from then on. At 17 years old, all my friends had Camaros, Mustangs, and Firebirds. Needless to say, when I was driving and trying to keep up with my friends, my foot was always to the floor. I used to do whatever I could to get the tires to spin. The rainy days were my favorites; need I say more? I used to even go to truck loading docks nose first, stop, put it in reverse and burn them up the slight incline. It was fun at the time. I burned through a few set of tires, and my dad could never figure out why. Then on school days, I would go across the street from the parking lot behind the trees (thick junipers) and next to the railroad tracks where there was about a 15 feet dirt and mud area. Yep, you got it, my poor Dart did a bit of four-wheeling-type fun with my friends crammed in and I felt better for a bit. When my front suspension started to fail, my dad tried to replace a few parts. Still I abused it. He never knew why the car wasn't holding up.
Anyway, in 1983, I finally traded the car in on a used Honda Civic to a dealership which never seen the Dart. I got $600 out of it. A few days later, I delivered it to them with the front tires looking like they were trying to do the limbo. I parked it in the corner and gave them the keys. They still never saw the car. A week or so later, I went back to the dealership and asked about my old car. They told me that they drove it off a cliff and if you saw the suspension you would believe them.
The poor Dart had 223,000 miles on it when I let it go, but other than the suspension, the engine and transmission just wouldn't let me down. I sure miss that car!
My friend has a 1969 Dart which he treats almost as badly as I used to treat mine. I'm trying to get him to love and respect it like I should have mine.