Wax on, wax off. Well, not quite. I had just finished compounding, cleaning and waxing my girlfriend’s Healey 3000 Mk III–something it had never been treated to in its brief three year history–when this picture was taken. Its British Racing Green livery was shining once again.
Here, we are seen behind the car during a spring picnic at the Brown County State Park in Indiana, not far from Bloomington where my honey was working her masters degree in opera, of all things. As opposed to Chicago, which may as well have been the North Pole, Bloomington started becoming livable far earlier in the spring.
The Healey’s three-liter six was a fairly lazy unit. After I had cleaned the car up, I took it out on Horseman Camp Rd which ran past the park. There was a long, downhill straight stretch that led past Strahl Lake. There I was able to let the Healey stretch its legs in 4th gear overdrive, but the best I could do was 96 mph (155 kph). My time would have been better spent changing the points and plugs.
But all good things must come to an end, I guess.
The Healey proved to be more show than go–not exactly high strung, but not a paragon of reliability either. Fun to drive in a horsey sort of way, but not as tossable as my friend’s Porsche Speedster, which at the time was just a $600 used car.
Voluptuary that she was, my GF, let’s call her Carmen, was also prone to cancelling trips due to bad karma, or some such BS, which was a term she used for an errant windshield wiper and a flat tire. I tried to convince her that her automotive problems were not due to bad karma but mechanical failure which was a finite phenomenon and therefore eminently fixable.
Then there was her desire to move our relationship from the physical to a more spiritual level. I thought, “Man, she must think I’m crazy,” and so I left. Toodleloo, Carmen baby.