pw_cc_runner
02-16-2009, 06:14 PM
I just found out about this today! I sent an email to the editor over a year and a half ago and my Dad sent me a text this morning to say he found it. Anyway, it's on page 20 of April 2009...
http://epmazdasport.com/gallery2/main.php?g2_view=core.DownloadItem&g2_itemId=5379&g2_serialNumber=1
EDIT: This is the original essay that got paraphrased... some of the information came from an email conversation we had also
Dear Hot Rod Magazine Editors
I am writing because I would like to share the story of the Street Rod Probe and how this father-son project has affected my life. As a freshman in high school I thought I had found my calling as a runner for the cross country team, and I was completely devastated when multiple stress fractures and compartment syndrome of the lower legs deprived me of my ability to run. Before cross country, most of my life had involved cars. When my dad saw how devastated I was he knew that it was the perfect time for me to have a car of my own. Before I knew it I was standing on the curb in front of some stranger's house handing over $500 for a 1993 Ford Probe. It had minor body damage, faded paint, and a torn driver's seat, but it was nothing that a little time and effort could not fix.
In the weeks and months to come I began to envision a whole lot more than just fixing the dented fender and giving the car a quick paint job. During classes I became focused on design sketches and color combinations, and before I knew it I had my Dad in on it too. Most kids my age who get a "tuner" car immediately think large exhaust, aluminum wings, and JDM, but not I. I recalled my childhood, when I often found myself, on my way to the Nationals, crammed in the back seat of the 1939 Ford Convertible that my Dad built. I knew it had to be a street rod! Over the next two years my 1993 Ford Probe underwent a complete transformation from its humble Flat Rock, Michigan beginnings into a car that embodies the true spirit of nostalgic Detroit and who I am as a person.
By the time we finished my Dad and I had cut off the original roof, and replaced it with a factory moon-roof panel. We fit and customized a poorly made body kit that included front and rear bumpers and side skirts. We shaved the windshield sprayer nozzles off the hood; shaved the door handles and locks; and relocated the fuel filler in the hatch gap. We replaced the antenna with a roof mounted antenna; created custom quad-tip center exit exhaust; mounted a fiberglass spoiler to the hatch; and crammed oversized gunmetal Ford Mustang Bullitt wheels. We painted the car metallic silver, and to complete the street rod look, I hand-laid and masked my very first custom flame job, which my Dad then painted in pearl orange. Even though the project got blown way out of proportion, requiring far more wet-sanding than any kid should ever have to do, not to mention a few arguments with my Dad, it is one of the most rewarding things I have accomplished in my nineteen years.
This is a thank you to my Dad, who I know will read this, along with the guys at work who sit down at break every day and open three copies of the exact same magazine. He helped turn one of the most challenging experiences of my life into something I will never forget and I can never repay him for what he has given me.
Josh Pinke
http://epmazdasport.com/gallery2/main.php?g2_view=core.DownloadItem&g2_itemId=5379&g2_serialNumber=1
EDIT: This is the original essay that got paraphrased... some of the information came from an email conversation we had also
Dear Hot Rod Magazine Editors
I am writing because I would like to share the story of the Street Rod Probe and how this father-son project has affected my life. As a freshman in high school I thought I had found my calling as a runner for the cross country team, and I was completely devastated when multiple stress fractures and compartment syndrome of the lower legs deprived me of my ability to run. Before cross country, most of my life had involved cars. When my dad saw how devastated I was he knew that it was the perfect time for me to have a car of my own. Before I knew it I was standing on the curb in front of some stranger's house handing over $500 for a 1993 Ford Probe. It had minor body damage, faded paint, and a torn driver's seat, but it was nothing that a little time and effort could not fix.
In the weeks and months to come I began to envision a whole lot more than just fixing the dented fender and giving the car a quick paint job. During classes I became focused on design sketches and color combinations, and before I knew it I had my Dad in on it too. Most kids my age who get a "tuner" car immediately think large exhaust, aluminum wings, and JDM, but not I. I recalled my childhood, when I often found myself, on my way to the Nationals, crammed in the back seat of the 1939 Ford Convertible that my Dad built. I knew it had to be a street rod! Over the next two years my 1993 Ford Probe underwent a complete transformation from its humble Flat Rock, Michigan beginnings into a car that embodies the true spirit of nostalgic Detroit and who I am as a person.
By the time we finished my Dad and I had cut off the original roof, and replaced it with a factory moon-roof panel. We fit and customized a poorly made body kit that included front and rear bumpers and side skirts. We shaved the windshield sprayer nozzles off the hood; shaved the door handles and locks; and relocated the fuel filler in the hatch gap. We replaced the antenna with a roof mounted antenna; created custom quad-tip center exit exhaust; mounted a fiberglass spoiler to the hatch; and crammed oversized gunmetal Ford Mustang Bullitt wheels. We painted the car metallic silver, and to complete the street rod look, I hand-laid and masked my very first custom flame job, which my Dad then painted in pearl orange. Even though the project got blown way out of proportion, requiring far more wet-sanding than any kid should ever have to do, not to mention a few arguments with my Dad, it is one of the most rewarding things I have accomplished in my nineteen years.
This is a thank you to my Dad, who I know will read this, along with the guys at work who sit down at break every day and open three copies of the exact same magazine. He helped turn one of the most challenging experiences of my life into something I will never forget and I can never repay him for what he has given me.
Josh Pinke