muscle cars

For The Love Of Cars

Posted on by noahmielke

Hi! I am Cori – Noah’s partner. We thought it might be fun to switch things up and share what it’s like loving a car guy! It’s fair to say, when Noah and I met, I didn’t know ANYTHING about cars. More than that, I didn’t want to know anything about cars. I mean, I drove them, they got me where I needed to go, but it wasn’t for pleasure. Little did I know then, how much I would come to both love and hate cars.

I knew Noah and I spoke different car languages when we met for the first time. Noah and I met online through a dating website for single parents. We both were trying to manage single parenthood as full time custodial parents, work, and find time to grow our relationship. We finally decided to meet in person for a lunch date, but I needed to meet at his apartment during nap time, because he didn’t have child care. I am terrible with direction, actually it’s worse than terrible. Noah needed to give me good directions because he lived in a large complex. He told me I would know I was in the right place because I would see a cool muscle car in front of his dwelling. What do you think of when you think muscle car? Well, my little knowledge instantly thought of the usual suspects. Camaro, Chargers, or Mustangs…what I saw eventually was a baby blue four door HUGE car with some dings and dents. Not a muscle car, not even close. I almost ran. I wasn’t dating him because he had a muscle car, but this was the first clue that we didn’t see eye to eye and I was worried if that was his idea of a “muscle car”, where else might see things so differently.

A few weeks in, we were able to go on a midnight drive in this muscle car. There was something magical. It sounded amazing, it had a beautiful bench seat, and the original stereo. We turned the radio on, and started singing with the windows down, and got lost in the moment. So lost that Noah actually drove home on the wrong side of the road for a brief second… because we were totally captivated in this moment. After that, every time we stopped for fuel we’d get so many compliments. It’s when I learned that loving cars is more about the passion and sound and comradery than it is about the car. Because of that I learned to love cars, because I loved this person who loved cars with such a passion that he can’t not talk cars. It isn’t in his DNA. We actually still have this car. This car is weaved through our life and it tells our story. Noah sold it, so he could afford to buy me an engagement ring. A few years later, we found the owners – and I bought it back for Valentine’s Day. Noah’s written about Horton before; if you want to learn more about our muscle car check out this blog.

Since then, we’ve owned what feels like a million cars. We’ve had a mini van, Land Rover, Buick, Mercury, Audi TT, Quattro, A6. We’ve had a Mitsubishi Eclipse that we changed the timing belt together…that was not easy, an old Ford truck that couldn’t hold fuel..(We don’t talk about that one!). Now I drive a BMW X1 i28 and I’m sure you’ve seen Noah’s car. Finally, I understand. The cars we drive are an extension of who we are. Some cars are refined and dignified. Some are loud and go balls out. Some are stealthy and strong.  I thought, I was going to be writing a blog about loving a car guy, but instead I wrote about a car guy teaching me to love cars. -Cori

First Cars Part 2

Posted on by noahmielke

Jumping, speeding, and general fun; the Duster became my second car for all this craziness. It wasn’t exceptionally fast, but it could handle a good beating to make up for its inability to handle cornering. With a bullet proof slant six like my first car and the added benefit of being a sleeker two door, I really felt cool in it. It’s the first car I painted, installed a cd player and sub in, installed new carpet, touched up interior, and put on air shocks that would raise the back end (Monroe shocks). It had to be terrible to watch me pass by; racked with skinny tires, music blaring, and cut off mufflers with the drone sound from the oversized six cylinder.

It was so much fun, and I learned a ton from it. It’s like an awakening…… an awkward awakening. Plus, it ignited a Plymouth Mopar passion I would keep from then on. One exceptional memory of the Duster was jumping it over the tracks leaving an intersection. There was this set of tracks and even at slow speeds you could feel the car lift. I couldn’t resist the urge to see my more redneck side come out. During that summer, driving on my own, I flew through that intersection on a green light (I wasn’t totally devoid of reason!) I peddled the duster up to a solid sixty. Holy crap I flew, and it must have been a spectacle to the drivers waiting to go on the opposite side because mid-flight I could see the roofs of opposing traffic. When I landed my frame bounced off the ground and sparks started to fly from behind me. I limped the car to an industrial parking lot and found my entire exhaust system dragging under my car. Luckily, I had already cut into the exhaust, downpipe from the header to hear if it sounded better. I went behind the car, grabbed the muffler and twisted it around and around until the metal gave out. I opened my trunk, put down my California rear seats, and loaded up my exhaust system. After that I just ran a header and nothing else.

Man, that poor car; I was a horrible car dad at the time. Just excited to slide beat on it and feel cool. I did eventually sell it to a father and son who planned to build it to a hot rod project.  So, in a way I saved it from rotting next to a barn, sitting so long you’d have to cut the grass around it to get it out. That’s how I got it!

It’s probably garaged somewhere right now.

What do you do when you run out of hair product camping. Become one with the woods.