I learned to drive in what had been my grandpa’s farm truck – a beige 1968 F-100 Custom Cab long bed, 360, “3-on-the-tree” manual transmission, manual steering and drum brakes. I drove it all through high school, but after I graduated in ’77 I joined the Air Force and left for Germany. Around ’78 or ’79, Dad had to trade it in on something more practical as gas prices started rising and he had to drive in city traffic.

Fast-forward 35 years to 2013. I was browsing through some classic car sale sites and came across a nearly identical 1968 F-100 long bed, 360, 3-on-the-tree, manual steering and drum brakes, and as a bonus it was a Ranger, which was a lot more chromed up than the Custom Cab was. The truck was in Tulsa, so I called to make sure it was still available, and we took a road trip one Saturday to look at it. It was all I could hope for – kind of a “barn find,” except it was beside the barn, not in it. It was in great shape, paint was dull but very little rust for a 45 year old truck, and only 65,000 pretty well documented miles. It had the Oklahoma inspection tags in it from 1984 to 1996 showing the mileage each year, and it had only averaged 3,000 per year during that period. 1995 to 1996 only had 3 miles – to the inspection station and back. Needless to say we bought it and brought it home.

My body skills are non-existent, so I pulled the engine and took the truck to a friend in Derby, KS, to bring the body back to life. While it was there the original engine got a refresh, with the only mods being a very mild RV cam and dual exhaust to make it breathe a bit better. It’s had an easy life the last few years – half a dozen car shows, and it hibernates in the basement in the winters. We won a few trophies, but the best part is driving it and hearing so many people say their dad or grandpa had one like it.

Kind of a cute story about the name – while we were loading it in Tulsa, my 2 1/2 year old grandson, Braden, asked my wife if that truck was mine. She said, “Yes, that’s Papa’s new truck.” He looked at my then-new GMC crewcab I was pulling the trailer with and said “No, that’s Papa’s new truck.” He thought about it a bit, then pointed at it and said, “That’s Papa’s ‘fresh’ truck.” We were impressed that a 3 year old knew the Ford wasn’t new, but was new to us, so the closest word he could come up with was “fresh.” So the name stuck – there’s a big decal on the back window that says’s “Papa’s Fresh Truck.” Maybe it’ll be his someday if he’s interested by then.