In about 1970, my Dad found a need for a pickup to help us build a log house on a lake lot he and Mom had purchased. My Grandfather knew one of his old friends (Mr. Puhallo) had a 1951 3100 that he had bought new. Hed used the truck daily to haul tomatoes and apples to the local distribution center in Kamloops, BC. From there, the distribution center sent the produce out to various grocery stores. Mr. Puhallo was thinking of selling his old truck because he was slowing down, and just didn’t see the need for the old green truck any more. A deal was struck, and we walked over to drive the truck the two blocks home to its new parking spot.
Over the years of building our log house, that truck served admirably. My younger sister and I would get wedged into the box, with the dog and building supplies piled around us, while my older sister got to ride up front with Mom and Dad. It was a pretty dusty ride, and everybody in the back was pretty happy to see the lake so we could rinse the dust out of our eyes, ears and mouths.
In the spring, the road was horrible and Dad, always the optimist, would plow into huge mud bogs, secure in the knowledge that if we got stuck (and we ALWAYS did), I was 14, and with a lot of practice (thanks Dad) I became pretty handy at getting the chains on the back wheels. Plus, my arguments about getting dirty didn’t carry much conviction. We were stuck, and the only way out was to get the chains on. Clearly Dad wasn't going to roll around in the mud -- he had to stay clean and drive. Mom, my two sisters and I got to push, and we would eventually get clear.
When I turned 16, I learned to drive on the old green truck. I eventually bought it from Dad, for the enormous sum of $600, and it became my daily driver, getting me back and forth to school and up into the hills where there were all kinds of roads leading to unknown locations.
I torched the original 216 cu.in. engine, but found a replacement 235 in a ‘56 Pontiac. That was when I learned how to change an engine. It couldn’t have taken much more than 2-3 weeks to get that job done. I remember a friend hating that I shifted from 2nd to 3rd with two fingers as we drove home from the ski hill. That old column shift was like buttered silk.I kept the truck until about 1985 when out of province work kept us apart. I eventually sold it to the Father of a friend, who wanted a cool old truck to drive around and wasn’t going to mess with what was still mostly original.
Fast forward to 2010, and I was married with two young boys, and living in Maine. I had borrowed an apple ladder from one of my wife’s colleagues, and returned it the next day to find out he wasn’t home. His garage was open, so I thought I would just put the ladder under cover. There, on the other side of the garage, sat an old, black-looking, dusty 3100.
I talked to him later and asked what the story was on his old truck. He bought it out of Colorado for his wife’s 50th birthday (in 2000) but it turned out his wife liked looking at old trucks, but didn’t really like driving an old truck. I told him that if she ever decided to sell it, I would be very interested. Maybe eight years later, I got a phone call that the truck was for sale, and if I still wanted it, they would sell it for what they paid for it in 2000.
I couldn’t get over there fast enough. We handed over a check, they handed over the registration and a bill of sale, and I climbed aboard for the four mile drive home. This is when I realized why hid wife Heidi hated driving that truck. The tires were badly split with dry rot but I figured I wasn’t going to be driving over 35 mph, and they would probably get me home. The first time I tagged the brakes, the rear brake cylinders seized and for the remaining 3 7/8 miles, the engine had to work harder.
I got the truck home without further mishaps, and tore the brakes apart and replaced all four shoe pairs as well as the brake cylinders, and soft brake lines. While I was there, I also swapped out the front wheel bearings for a tapered set, and flushed and repacked the rears. I also purchased a new of set radials and 15” wheels.
The paint on the truck was heavily oxidized and covered in dust, and I wasn't’ sure what the color actually was. So I set to work with some cut-polish and a 5” polisher. I was really surprised to see dark green paint emerge. I had another green truck in my life.
