Back In Action: Another Skylark on Another Road Trip
Well. No excuse but I needed a break. Went back to college and did not have the energy to work on this passion project. Over the last few years a lot has happened as we all know. I hope to those who have stood by Blacktop Ranger and are perhaps even reading this now, I will continue to try and entertain you. The solo act can be tough,
Dalton Richards - The overworked editor
While many things have changed in the last few years, one thing has stayed the same. The undervalued Buick Skylark remains my favorite car. Since we last posted, I have speed dated my way through 8 different vehicles. I will be writing about them over the next few months.
I recently returned to form and purchased a 1972 Buick Skylark… for the third time. Her name is Agent Orange. Inspired by the lovely paint and the vintage of the car, Agent Orange seemed appropriate. She is a remarkable car. Originally powered by the underwhelming but lightweight Buick 350, the previous owners made the jump and swapped in a fresh powerhouse Buick 455. The powerplant is relatively stock with the exception of pistons sourced from a 1970 motor which bumps the compression to pre-smog values. Agent Orange is the comfiest cruiser yet thanks to having an air conditioner that functions marvelously. Cooling has been improved with a three core aluminum radiator, upgraded metal fan and an aftermarket OEM fan shroud.
Driving wise, the car initially possessed BMR lowering springs (photos shown with lowered stance) which I have since switched away from returning to stock ride height in the rear. The car has well adjusted disk brakes in the front and an upgraded master cylinder and booster. One of the cool little things about the car is the “sport mirrors” which were an optional upgrade on the GM A-bodies. My previous two Skylarks did not have this option. Another notable change I’ve made is replacing the “dronemaster” super forty mufflers with “cheap-o” glasspacks. While some say the Flowmasters sound best on muscle cars I will die on the hill that glasspack mufflers have the iconic muscle car snarl that better matches the ethos of the muscle car identity.
To get back in touch with my favorite vehicle, we took the car on a beautiful trip through Big Sur California. We started our trip in San Francisco, where we introduced the orange beauty to the arduous hills that have made many worn out engines shake in fear. Arriving on friday afternoon, we were welcomed to San Francisco with beautiful blue skies. We stopped momentarily alongside Pier 30-something and took a few photos of the car before carrying onward towards fishermans warf. I also took the time to check my oil level. I will admit the “fresh” 455 possessed an unfortunate tendency to burn oil even though the breather doesn’t emit any smoke and the exhaust comes through without color, I have had to put a quart in here or there which suggests my piston rings may not be in very good shape.
Not used to such nice things, we ran for cover to our hotel for the afternoon where we put the Skylark down for the night. In the morning, we found the weather we were expecting… cool and rainy, so the torque monster 455 had a good time spinning my tires on every hill. We dove down Lombard street where a flock of tourists found our car working its way downward to be somewhat entertaining. On the brick roads I discovered my radio’s ground wires may not be all that great and the head unit began to cut in and out but decided to grace us with tunes once we flattened out. After laughing about the hilly streets I started to consider the Buicks known high angle oiling issues and decided it was time to get on with our southward road trip towards Big Sur.
Over the next few hours we made a few sight seeing stops. We had to take a pause at Bixby and the Rocky Bridges of course but before that, we took a quick pause for coffee and éclairs by Davenport Beach where we saw a run down water processing plant. I decided to shoot a few grungy photos there as well before moving on down the way. I spotted a well worn Ford work truck that deserved a mood matching photo. I had Gaby take the wheel here for some rolling photos but in my usual style they came out nice and blurry. She looked great behind the wheel though. Between Davenport and the more iconic park areas, we marveled at the luckiest cows in the world who grazed between the road and the coastal cliffs. After a quick wikipedia search, I am ready to educate you that the El Sur Ranch has been operating there since all the way back in 1834 back before the State of California even existed. Also of note in the region is the Point Sur Lighthouse which sits atop a majestic coastal mesa. It is open to the public for tours on Wednesdays and weekends but I have yet to catch a tour.
As the rain started in on us we began to wonder if the whole camping excursion would turn out to be a poorly thought out idea but thankfully it disipated properly right as we hit the prettiest part of the California coast just at the border of Andrew Molera State Park. Fun fact, Andrew Molera popularized Artichokes in 1922 from that region. The park is bisected by the Big Sur River which is one of my favorite gems of the region. Shallow in depth, the river is lined by grasslands, oaks, thick undergrowth, and multiple groupings of old growth redwoods. The Yucca plants native to the western regions were sprouting and juvenile poison oak was waiting for us if we werent careful as we walked along the river banks.
Yet still, the trunk full of firewood and camping gear demanded we carry on with our jaunt through the lush valley and pristine tarmac. Thankfully our camp site at Pfeiffer State Park was only a few miles away and we made it with plenty of time to spare. It was on our drive in to the campground that I finally saw a two door 2022 Bronco off of a paved road. Even if it was parked only three feat off said road at a campground, it still looked properly adventurous surrounded by trees. Our campsite was at the very end of the winding road which meant I rumbled by approximately 120 different campsites. Being Easter Weekend, nearly every site was in use and we felt ever so slightly guilty with 7.5 liters of classic V8 exhaust noise disturbing the peace. Then again, we didn’t feel too bad considering the site was lined with expensive airstreams and six figure camping van conversions that probably had enough sound deadening to hide our drive in. Despite my last minute booking, I was able to land a premium site that lined the Big Sur river and we promptly set about getting our campsite together. While my car may have been excellent, our camping trip planning still needed some improvement. We had planned the trip on a whim and what I thought was a fancy sherpa lined sleeping bag at the store turned out to be a equally fancy but not very functional sherpa lined camping blanket…woops. We also forgot to bring a suitable cutting tool for chopping the firewood that sagged my rear suspension. Regardless of the wet conditions, lack of kindling, and oversized firewood I was able to get a proper fire going without too much swearing and we sat down to begin our ghetto-fabulous five course fireside meal of cheese and crackers, chicken cup of noodles, beef stew, roasted mini weenie hot dogs and a dessert of camping staple smores. While you savor the thought of such a feast let me tell you about the Pfeiffer park region. I found a really cool publication titled, “GUIDE TO THE GEOLOGY OF PFEIFFER BIG SUR STATE PARKMONTEREY COUNTY, CALIFORNIA” written by Gordon B. Oakshott back in 1951 that details the geological formation of the region and wanted to share a s a few interesting pieces however I believe he detailed it better than I ever could so am just going to suggest you take a look for yourself. I havee embedded his report below. But if you want to scroll past it, Ill just put it this way, Big Sur has trees, mountains, rivers, a ton of unique rock formations, and three distinct different microclimates producing a unique nature scape.
Now that we are experts on Geology, lets get back to automotive stuff and camping…. As the fire began to die down and the sound of the river’s steady flow emenated throughout the campground I decided to take a few long exposure light painting night time photos. Now most photographers use a high grade flash, a controllable light wand and a tripod to accomplish such a feat. Here at Blacktop Ranger we dont dilly dally with proven techniques so instead with the help of a neighboring camper’s headlamp I set my camera on a water spigot and set about running around my car like an idiot savant and managed to capture these really cool pictures. Sometimes you just have to wing it! Thanks to Tony who lent me his multi color lamp and offered to let us join us by his excellently kept fire! If you look closely You can see a real life ghost running around my car for some reason (Just kidding that’s me waving a light like a maniac)
After freezing in our tent that we agreed was at best a mosquito net, I proceeded to continue my trend of poor planning and had to find a fellow camper willing to heat up some water for a second round of cup of noodles. So thank you to those kind souls as well. After a short hike, we packed up the trusty camping muscle car and rumbled passed the same 120 campsites, this time feeling properly guilty for the noise. With another 300 miles to get back to Los Angeles It was time to depart the idealic Big Sur valley and headed out to the fogged in coast. On a previous trip along Big Sur with my motorcycle (another article I failed to write) I was lucky enough to see the shore without a cloud in the sky. However, the fogged in vistas made for a much more surreal experience where every corner was a discovery… and a potential deadly drop. We rumbled around the bends stopping occasionally to take in specific sights that caught our eyes. As the miles piled on the sky began to open up to us again and we took in the surprisingly bright almost glacial waters in wonder. After an hour or so the terrain began to mellow out and the pinnacle of our trip was done. Due to some pending business, Gaby and I split ways in San Luis Obispo where she took the Amtrak back north. I meanwhile continued southward for the last three hours and mentally replayed the experience of the last 72 hours. The skylark performed wonderfully throughout the trip. The only issue to note is that my door handle on the driver side became jammed at the last gas stop and when I arrived home I was forced to climb unceremoniously out of the window. Perhaps the car itself, longed to return to the open fields and winding coastal roads too. Don’t worry Agent Orange, this is only the beginning. If the trip taught me one thing only, its that my favorite car, is a Buick Skylark muscle car.
