Photos by author.
In theory, I was supposed to be on vacation; a long overdue escape from the ceaseless to-do list at home, the cries of a vintage car fleet waiting to emerge from a long Northeast winter, and a respite from the adventurous life of a Hemmings editor before real spring weather brings forth a new show and photo shoot season. So with great anticipation my ever-supportive wife and I boarded a flight and headed to the desert Southwest – more specifically, northern Arizona – to take in a week of nature’s beauty that had been on our bucket list.
Within a day on the ground it was mission accomplished: I had not given one second of thought to anything that was patiently waiting for my return. Even vintage cars. That is, until we turned a corner in the Painted Desert and my eyes fell upon the relic from the past pictured above (and below). Quicker than a Woods Brothers pit stop at Indy in 1965, I threw the rental car’s transmission into park and was taking pictures of the accidental find. Like a kid in a candy store, my eyes traced its abandoned, well-weathered lines, looking for that one clue that would trigger a memory as to its identity.
As it turns out, this four-door sedan was purposely positioned on a stretch of terra firma where Route 66 once ran. Note the decaying telephone poles in the background that paralleled the iconic highway that mother earth has since reclaimed. Back in 1958, this section of blacktop was closed to traffic; Interstate 40 – beyond the telephone poles – is today’s ribbon of blacktop that connects east and west through this region.
The sedan, incidentally, has been secured to concrete blocks, with everything from the engine to the suspension removed from the chassis. I was able to figure out the year and make, but what do your eyes tell you?
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