Since I began visiting Lake Quinault in the mid-1980s, I have noticed this 1953 Chevrolet sitting in a garage. The garage’s door has always been open and the Chevy has not appeared to have been moved or cleaned. Yet the house next to the garage appears to have been continuously inhabited — and has always looked cheery and meticulously maintained.
Today, on my way back home from a camping trip, I drove by . . . and the Chevy was still there. I would imagine that it has become so moldy and infested with forest critters that the car is unsalvageable. The garage looks to be in even worse shape.
Quinault is on the edge of the Olympic National Park in western Washington. In theory, the rainforest could eventually engulf the car and garage. However, I suspect that both will stick around only as long as the elderly couple that apparently owns the property doesn’t need to sell it.
I wonder what’s the story behind that car?
NOTES:
The original story was posted on Sept. 1, 2019 and updated on June 8, 2023.
RE:SOURCES
- Olympic National Park (visiting Quinault)
Also see ‘Still motion: A haunting encounter with a 1940s Chevy truck’
When I enlarged the photo, I could barely see the outline of a convertible top in the raised position. The Convertible’s rear window is not as wide as the hardtop or sedan rear windows, they both wrap around further, with little “blind spots” in the corners. I suspect this car will turn out to be a convertible, and if it’s not a rusted out hulk underneath, may well be worth the cost and effort to bring it back to life.
So the question is; When are you heading back to Lake Quinault and knocking on the door to the house?
The picture I took yesterday was with an iphone so the quality wasn’t so good. So I went back to a 2018 photo I took with my real camera and lightened the image. What do you think?
That picture tells so many stories. A beloved car of his youth he meant to fix up but never got around to, a son who went to war (it doesn’t matter which one, they’re all the same war) and never came back, a nice place in the country the kids are too busy to visit… So much ion one photo.
Agreed. My journalistic side of wanting to know the factual details conflicts with my literary side of wanting to maintain ambiguity so readers take a moment to imagine the possibilities.
I can only dream this ’53 two-door sedan (there…I established its pedigree) is my former car, purchased in 1967 to replace my baby blue ’55 Chevy 4-door that had been t-boned on the passenger side resulting in only the driver side door for entry.
Paid a whopping 40 bucks for that ’55 and always parked across the street from my girlfriend’s parent’s house so they couldn’t see what was on the other side. By the way, we are looking at 53 years of wedded bliss this September.
But back to the ’53. A couple of brothers in town were looking for a ’55 Chevy engine to stick in another project and they had this ’53 sedan. Two doors, no dents, ran good so the deal was made.
Loved that little sedan. My first mechanical challenge. Converted the iron automatic to a three-speed on the floor. Spent some time in various junk yards searching for parts for that little project. I had no clue how difficult it was to jack the car up, lay flat on my back and drop that anchor weight tranny on the ground. I think I still have some of the grime from that “modification ” embedded under my fingernails. I definitely still have the tools.
Paid $65 (I still have the receipt for some bizarre reason) to have the car painted Pontiac silver, stuck some grey centered ET mags on it, bought a complete black “naugahyde” tuck and roll interior from Western Auto and voila, I am a custom car hot rodder!
My how I abused that love interest. Broke the 3-speed numerous times but learned how to pull it in about 20 minutes to replace a constant string of synchronizers. Taught my future wife how to drive the floor shift 3-speed while steering the small diameter Grant custom wheel. Pretty good for a five one blondie tugging the non-power steering around corners (now push the clutch all the way down, shift into second, quick grab the wheel with both hands and tuuuurn!)
I figured out how to stuff borrowed oversize slicks under the rear by sticking pieces of exhaust tubing into the c-shaped shackles. Worked pretty good until the pipe was crushed and the car would lean one side or the other.
Traded the ’53 in 1969 for a ’64 Impala that carried my wife and I on our honeymoon. But the ’53 has always been stored away in the dark recesses of my imagination, probably stashed in that open door garage by somebody not realizing its historical significance.
When you get the chance to see it, watch for a white Grant steering wheel, Hurst 3-speed shifter and that awesome black tuck and roll and maybe some remnants of silver paint. Yup. That’s the one. Just waiting for its next chapter.
Awesome, what street?
That’s the Quinault North Shore Road around four or five miles from Highway 101.