Not Enough Time

When we loose someone we love, we realize that we didn't get enough time with them. Those times we did get, become very precious memories, that we will cherish for the rest of our lives.
 We lost a grandson to cancer a couple weeks ago, and just got home yesterday from the long drive to the funeral and back. I had many hours to think about Caden, and what a great young man he was. We have known for some time that we were going to loose him, and we savored the time we got to spend with him and his family.
The accomplishments he made in the last few months are remarkable, as his family made every effort to make sure he could have every possible life experience he could have in the time he had left. Many others were there to help. Friends, neighbors, church members, class mates, extended family, and countless others were there to join in. The outpouring of love and support was remarkable.
He enjoyed life right up to the last couple days, then said his goodbyes to his family, gave precious gifts to his brothers and sisters, and passed on from this earthly life.
We all miss him greatly. As I think back on the time spent with him, no mater how much it was, it just was not enough time.

Our Caden, just a couple weeks before he passed away.

Missing Caden

A few days ago, my grandson Caden passed away after battling cancer for almost 4 years. He was just 16 years old, and an outstanding young man, leaving a lasting impression on anyone who knew him.
He was just 12 years old when he was sent to Seattle Children's Hospital by Life-Flight plane, and in the weeks that followed, the first cancer was removed, along with 3/4 of his liver. That was the first of many trips to that hospital over the last few years. He bounced back from several surgeries and chemo treatments, and accomplished many mile-stones in his young life. In the last few months we found out he was fighting his last fight. The cancer was back, worse than ever, and there was nothing left that could be done. His time was running out.
We were up to visit Caden and his family in August, and he was still busy living life to the fullest. On the afternoon before we came home, Caden took me for a ride in the 77 Bronco that he loved to drive. Manual transmission, big tires, V8 engine and all, not the easiest vehicle to drive, but he handled it like a pro. That was our Caden.  He will be greatly missed.

Caden  Randy  Dirks     May 15 2001 - October 4 2017

My Masterpiece

Any artist, musician, writer, or performer usually has something in their collection of accomplishments that they regard as their masterpiece. Being a life-long car guy, and lucky enough to have owned many performance cars I've loved over the years, makes it hard to pick out a favorite, or crown one as the "masterpiece" of my automotive hobby. It also depends on what criteria we choose to consider when trying to pin point which should come out on top.
Some of the cars I have owned were more expensive than the rest, some were the fastest and most fun to drive, and these are naturally the Mustang Cobras, and Shelby GT 500 I've had. Others were just very nice all around cars, good looking, fun to drive, enjoyable to take on a trip, and easy to maintain. But, when you also consider the work I put in myself, to make the cars the cool machine they ended up, then it becomes more clear which car should take the honor as my automotive masterpiece. My 1970 Cobra Jet Ranchero.
This was probably the rarest car I've owned. Very few 1970 Ranchero GT's were produced with the 429 Cobra Jet engine, with 4-speed transmission. When I bought the car in the mid 1980's, it only had just over 20,000 miles on it, but needed some engine work, and a lot of body and paint restoration to make it nice again.
I went through the engine completely, doing what we used to call a "blueprint" engine build, and making performance enhancements along the way. It ended up as a 468 cubic inch performance monster, with factory original looks and detailing.  I did the minor body repairs and paint preparation after the engine was installed and break-in tuning was complete. When it came back from the paint shop, I reinstalled the final trim pieces, using new-old-stock trim pieces where necessary.
The Ranchero was a beauty on the streets, an exciting car to drive, and dominated all the street races I found myself involved in. It can easily be considered my automotive masterpiece.
For more of the story, you can check out my book at: "Grab Some Gears"

My 1970 Ford Ranchero GT, with factory 429 CobraJet engine and 4-speed transmission. 

Life's Highway

Life is often described as a road, a path, or a highway. The older I get, and the more twists and turns my life takes, the more I believe this comparison is a good way to describe it. Some recent, and some on-going, family situations have made this analogy even more apparent to me.
We all may have a path of life in mind we plan on taking, but things come up that are unexpected that can change the route very quickly. We find ourselves, or other family and friends, taking a fork in the road, and traveling through some unfamiliar territory. Sometimes we don't know what to expect around the next corner, or over the next hill. And sometimes, we find a mountain instead of a hill, on the road in front of us. Sometimes we can see a storm in our path, that we know we will have to travel through, as our journey continues.
Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be. Maybe the road of life is supposed to be an unknown adventure, with many unexpected turns, and mountains to climb, and bridges to cross, and storms to endure. We just have to navigate the path the best we can as we go along, making the most of the trip, and prepare the best we can for those storms we know will happen along the way.
I have wrote about variations of this subject in other posts in my blog before. Being a "car guy" , I usually refer to the car I'm driving along the way, and how that makes the trip more enjoyable for me. But this time I'm talking about the other aspects of out journey of life.  Now I find them a more important part of my thoughts than ever before. Wishing all of you the best outcome, as you travel down your own personal route, along "Life's Highway".

My grandson Caden enjoying the 77 Bronco he loves.

Summer Road Trip

Something we look forward to each year is the traditional "summer road trip". It may be an elusive fantasy, but sometimes it actually happens. We often think of loading up the car for that summer vacation, to the mountains, the beach, or some other fun place. For me and my wife, it was a yearly trip to Yellowstone National Park, and it was a tradition for many years. In recent years, we haven't been making that yearly trip, and we have been missing that get-a-way. This summer, we were making plans to make that Yellowstone trip again, but it just hasn't worked out like we had planned, other issues got in the way. We're still hoping we can work it in next month.
Being a "car guy", the road trip means something more to me than simply getting away on vacation. I enjoy the drive, and especially when I can make the trip in a car I enjoy driving. A car that has great performance and handling abilities makes the trip very rewarding for me. I am lucky that both our cars fall into that category. The Mustang has more performance and handling abilities, but the Charger has a little more room and ride comfort on the long trips. Everything is a trade off it seems.
Even if our Yellowstone trip doesn't work out this summer, we have another trip in the planning stages to visit family anyway, so we will be hitting the road, one way or another.
The road is calling me, summer road trip, here we come. See you on the road.
Car enthusiasts who may be interested can check out my book, and read sample pages by following this link: Grab Some Gears

My favorite summer road trip vehicle, my 2015 Mustang GT, in the beautiful Zion National Park, Utah.

Racing in the Street

Readers of this blog, along with many followers of my Twitter page, know that I was a street racer for over 40 years. Many are also familiar with the book I wrote; "Grab Some Gears - 40 Years of Street Racing" all about many of my experiences with that, and the legal form, of drag racing.
Sometime in the mid 1980's, my little brother sent me a copy of the song; "Racing in the Street" by Bruce Springsteen. That song really hit home with me and became my adopted "theme song" from then on. I ran across it again today while going through some songs on You Tube, and it brought back a lot of old memories.
That got me remembering a lot of my old street racing buddies, some of whom are no longer with us. A couple of them that I was very close to; my nephew Rob Fetter, and my friend Steve Boothe, I miss very much. We shared our love of cars and drag racing for many years. I think of them often, especially when I'm at a car show or around a bunch of "car guys". Rest in peace my friends.
Anyone interested can check out my book, or read sample pages by following this link; "Grab Some Gears" 

My book cover.

The Farm

When you're driving out across the country, you often pass by some old building setting all alone out in some pasture or farm field. It may have been an old barn, farm house, or some other abandon building, maybe almost ready to fall down from years of weathering and neglect. At one time, it was part of someones farm yard, maybe with some chickens, cows, or horses in pens near by. Maybe there were trucks, tractors, and machinery parked around the various buildings. Probably a little house with a garden near by, and maybe a bicycle or two around as well. This was someones home, their family's source of income, and their familiar place of existence, possibly for several generations. As the years go by, the little farm or ranch was sold, became a part of a much larger farming enterprise, and most of the original buildings torn down, the equipment sold off, until all that's left is one old weathered structure.
For years, when I pass some such site, I wonder what it might have looked like in it's prime. What kind of people lived there, grew up there, and where did they end up. That place was there whole life at one time, and now nothing remains.
I grew up on a farm / ranch in Southwestern South Dakota, that my Grandfather had started in about 1925. He started purchasing the land as it became available, built the buildings, accumulated the necessary tractors and machinery, and raised his family there, and worked it the rest of his life. My Dad made his life there as well, working the land and raising his family. It became an operation of about 2000 acres, half farm land, and half cattle pastures.
My brothers and I grew up exploring the wilderness, riding our bikes, and building forts in the trees. Farm kids also work doing chores, and even driving trucks and tractors, from about 12 years old. As a teenager, I rebuilt my first car engine in one of the buildings on the farm.
Family situations change, my Mom left that life when I was 17, and I went with her, eventually starting a military career in the US Air Force. I returned with my own family after I got out of the Air Force, but that was only for a few months, and I moved on to other pursuits.
My brother stayed, and eventually took over the farming operation, and built a life there. A few years ago, a large land owner came along, made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and the place was sold. I went out there for a last look around as he was getting ready for his equipment auction. All the buildings were there as when I was young, and the memories seemed like a lifetime ago.
Now, all the old buildings are removed, the left over junk cleaned up, and the only thing remaining from our past is the old farm house. It has become one of those places you see along the road, just a symbol of someones memories.

The farm as it appeared in the 1950's.