Rental Car Graveyard in Hawaii

Ever wonder what happens to rental cars once they are no longer the most current model year, recalled, or something like that?  It honestly never really crossed my mind.  I assumed they got auctioned off or sold, and while that may be the case in most locations, Hawaii seems to be a little different.

The last job that I had involved lots of traveling.  However, I am cheap, so regardless of where I went, I walked everywhere and the only thing I spent was time, and I spent it enjoying the sights and taking pictures.

One of the locations I was at was Hawaii.  I made extensive use of the GPS on my phone to find my way around, and on the on the island of Kauai, I decided to walk to the Ahukini Recreation Pier State Park.  From the GPS view, it looked like a good place to see some sights.  However, when looking at the map, I saw what looked like a junkyard.  Naturally I had to check it out for Rotting in Style.  I mean, why not?  It was next to the road I had to walk down anyway.

When I got there, I was surprised to find myself looking at dozens of year or two year old Mustangs and Camaros.  Lines and lines of these cars bumper to bumper.  Next to them were Jeeps, minivans, compact cars, trucks, and more, all just a couple years old.  I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking at.

I walked down the rows and looked for cars with door pins that were up.  After locating all of those, I walked back down the row again and hopped in one of the cars while no one was driving down the road.  Inside the car, I found rental car paperwork.  So I guess when they are done with them, they end up here!

Now these cars are only a few years old, and they are located on ONE island, but the ones that I saw had 15,000 to 22,000 plus miles on them!  I also learned that with a Camaro, you don’t need a key to get the radio to turn on, so needless to say, I listened to some tunes.

I assume in most situations, the cars would be packed up on a truck and delivered to wherever they are destined to go next.  If they are on an island though, I guess you have to wait to have enough to stick them on a cargo ship or something.  It was pretty cool to see lines and lines of these cars.  Most of them where completely exposed, and only a handful were behind a locked fence area.  It was sad to report that none of the cars had the keys in them.  Yes, I did look.

It was something I’ll probably never see again.  Needless to say, while most of the people I worked with were off swimming or looking at volcanoes, I was admiring the nearly 100 cars that just sat in a field awaiting their next life.  Ah the sights of Hawaii.

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Rotting in Style - 1961 Chevy Lakewood (Corvair 500)

When I had the privilege of spending four months in Alaska, I took advantage of all the sights that I possibly could.  This included the vast amount of abandoned cars that I had found.  One of the towns I was in was Skagway, Alaska.  Anyone who played the old computer game “Yukon Trail” should recognize the name.  It was a gorgeous small little town of just over 900 residents, but with a vast amount of abandoned cars.

One house had quite a few in the yard.  The woman I approached told me she was renting the property.  The owner of the house inherited the land with the house and cars on it when his father passed away.  While the cars are mostly now all junk, he doesn’t want to get rid of them due to sentimental value.  That works for me, because now I can bring them all to you, including this 1961 Chevy Lakewood (Chevy Corvair 500 Lakewood).

This car is pretty rare as it was only built in 1961 and 1962.  I cannot confirm this is in fact a 1961, so I’m just making an assumption here.  Anyway, this was the base Chevy station wagon as it was built off of the cheap Corvair 500 platform.  It came with a 146 cubic inch flat six that made 86 horsepower which was located in the rear of the car.  Now apparently, that was enough of a power to weight ratio to blast this car up and down sand dunes.  Check out the video at the end which includes an old commercial where Chevy did just that.

This car’s days of dune crushing though are over.  It is being completely overgrown.  This grass was well past my knees.  Rust was replacing the paint; not too aggressively surprisingly, but it was sure enough.  It was also accompanied with moss, which was very common on anything that didn’t move much in Alaska.  Having been granted free range, I opened the doors to check out the inside.  It was dusty, dirty, and musty.  It also had a couple trees growing in it.

The original dealer badge was located on the rear of the car: Taylor and Drury Motor Limited.  I couldn’t find much about them except for the fact that they were located in Whitehorse Yukon Territory, which you can also figure out from the badge itself, and that Taylor and Drury was a big business name in the area for other businesses apparently as well.

The dealer is long gone, and this car is fading away as well.  It’s now destined to be overgrown as is sits in Skagway, Alaska, Rotting in Style.

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The Elusive Chrysler 300

Everyone remembers their first car.  I personally still own and drive mine.  It is my first and only car I have owned.  It comes up in videos and blog posts from time to time.  However, it wasn’t always supposed to be my first car.  This post isn’t a review, it isn’t an abandoned car, and it isn’t a tip or trick.  This is a story: the story of the elusive Chrysler 300 SRT8.

Back in 2009, I was a junior in high school, and it was time for me to start looking for my first car.  I was a little picky.  I wanted something that looked nice.  It would be used obviously, but something nice none the less, and it had to be American.  I was mainly looking at Mustang’s and the newer (at the time) Dodge Chargers.  My price range was obviously a higher mileage V6 version of either if I wanted the current body style.

Things changed when I came across some vehicles that were repossessed at a bank in the next town over.  Among them was a 2006 Chrysler 300 SRT8.  It was very done up.  A very custom paint job, a custom interior, custom exhaust, engine upgrades, and Lamborghini doors.  While some of the upgrades were questionable for a band geek white boy, I still fell in love with the car.  The starting bid to get me in was $8000.  I promptly put in my bid.

The car was kind of “ghetto”, but it was bad ass.  There was damage to the exterior because apparently the previous owner tried to hide it in tight spaces when he knew it was going to get repossessed.  It had dings on the paint from driving, and the interior was kind of worn due to lower cost upgrades, but I still wanted this car.

Now, I had someone who knew someone at the bank, and he was feeding me information about the car.  Turns out there was only one other person interested, and my bid remained the highest after only increasing by a few hundred.  This car was mine.  My friends at school knew it, my family knew it, and so on.

The bids increased though, and it eventually made it to my limit: $10,000.  I had to save money for registration and insurance, so against my wishes, I could not make the next bid to $10,500.  I had to back out.  It was very depressing, and that year for my birthday, my mom had gotten me car cleaning stuff because I was supposed to be getting that car.  It was a depressing birthday.

As time went on, I managed to get the car I still own and drive today: my 2005 V6 Mustang.  The Chrysler 300 SRT8 still haunted me though.  I would occasionally see it driving down the highway, normally while I was at marching band practice.  One time while I was in a bus, I saw it parked in a parking lot.  What struck me as odd was that it had used car dealer plates on it.  This went on for over a year; seeing it here and there.  Finally, it happened.

I forgot where I was going, but I do know it was to a place that I had never been before, so I was in a part of New Jersey that I was unfamiliar with.  I was on a long desolate road, but in the distance I saw the rear of a car.  I recognized the paint job instantly.  It was the Chrysler 300 SRT8!  I put all senses aside and decided to chase it down.

When I got to my first red light behind it, I didn’t think and jumped out of my car and ran up to the 300.  The windows were almost limo tint (definitely illegal for New Jersey).  I couldn’t see who was inside, but I knocked on the window.  It rolled down, and an average looking “Jersey” man sat there.  In the passenger seat was a woman with basketballs for breasts.  I spoke first and asked if the car was still for sale.  The man said it was and when I inquired how much, he said it was twenty-something grand.  I said, “That’s a lot more than the ten grand you paid for it!”  Without hesitation, he said right back to me, “I paid nine.”

I was dumbfounded.  How was this possible?  I had the higher bid.  I bid ten thousand!  The light turned green, so I ran back to my car.  I decided to follow him.  I had no idea where I was, or where he was even going, but I followed.  We stopped at a body shop.  The man got out of the car and made his way to mine.  To avoid him killing me, I quickly jumped out of my car and explained the story.

Turns out he was the man that repossessed the car for the bank.  I guess the bank wanted to assure he got the car, even if it meant less money for them.  Who knows what the deal was, all I know was that I lost unfairly, and he got the car.  I was glad I finally knew what happened to the car, but I wasn’t satisfied.  I couldn’t end the chase.  Not yet.

One of the things with the car being at the bank was that I couldn’t test-drive it.  I wanted to know what this car was like.  I asked the man in front of me if we could go for a ride.  He agreed.  He walked away, and in a short while returned, and I hopped in the passenger seat.  We chatted a bit more, and then we were on another desolate, open, and lonely road.  He stopped in the middle: a dead stop.  I was nervous.  What did I get myself in to?  What was he going to do? 

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he pressed the brake down fully, then mashed on the gas, and did the biggest burnout that I had ever been in a vehicle for.  The V8 screamed, the tires wailed, and smoke filled the air with the sweet aroma of burning rubber.  With a large smile on my face, I knew the chase was over.  I may not have gotten the car, but I found out what happened.  The chase had come to an end, and the story was finished.  The Chrysler 300 SRT8 had eluded me for over a year, but I finally caught her, and I was able to close the book on the story of the elusive Chrysler 300.

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