Barn Find Road Trip

by Tom Cotter

  One of the men, Joe Harper, smoked a stogie and told us he owned 3,500 acres where he raises sheep and cuts timber. Joe also owns the adjacent general store and restaurant and suggested we try the lamb for dinner if we didn’t have any other plans.

  “This road here was dirt and ran through the valley when my grandfather opened his store,” Joe said. “And no people lived on it.”

  He said, though, that anyone within miles would come to buy cars from their grandfather. The dealership is long closed, but the grand, old building remains.

  We took Joe’s advice and all three of us tried the lamb dinner—delicious—and enjoyed some local West Virginia craft beer and spent time talking to Joe about the history of the area. He said that the mountain opposite his store attracts hikers and climbers from all over the country. He said that many folks are naïve, thinking the climb is a simple one. But he said people have fallen to their death trying to get to that peak.

  Fortunately neither Brian, Michael, nor I planned on climbing that peak this evening, so we said goodbye and continued down what was once a dirt road.

  The sun was going down and we needed to find a place to rest our heads for the night.

  We stayed in a Hampton Inn in Elkins, West Virginia. Nothing unusual, except that the next morning we’d find out that we had luckily chosen just the right Hampton Inn.

  This scenic overlook in West Virginia’s Germany Valley was too good a photo op to ignore.

  Seneca Motor Company in Seneca Rocks, West Virginia, was a Ford car, truck, and tractor dealership that opened in 1915 and closed in the 1960s.

  WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 1

  DAY 6

  We preferred staying in Hampton Inns for several reasons: the rooms are clean, breakfast is free, and they almost always allowed us to park the Woody under the front entrance canopy to keep it out of the weather and rain. But this Hampton Inn offered another benefit that we would discover while eating breakfast.

  I decided to get up early and go running for a few miles, hoping to wear off some of that beer and beef I had been consuming nightly. Plus, in the past, I’ve discovered quite a few cars while pounding pavement on an early morning jog.

  But this time, I found none. As far as I could tell, Elkin was barren of old cars. At least that’s what I thought…

  Cindy Phares, who works at the Elkins, West Virginia, Hampton Inn, approached us and said she had an old car at her house. This 1959 Plymouth Savoy has lived within a mile of Cindy’s house its whole life.

  When Cindy traded her husband’s BSA motorcycle for the Savoy, she had the local vo-tech high school restore the body and apply new paint.

  Cindy’s dog, Meatwad, guards her husband’s ’64 Chevy Impala. Down, Meatwad!

  Brian was woofing down his high-protein breakfast of eggs and bacon, Michael had cereal and pastry, and I mostly had yogurt and fruit. As we were sitting there, munching, the woman who worked in the Hampton Inn breakfast room approached us.

  “Are you the guys with the Woody?” she asked.

  “Yes, but how could you tell?” I asked.

  “Well I saw the faces on the decal, and you are the only ones in here that looked like them,” she said.

  She introduced herself as Cindy Phares, and she said she owned an old Plymouth that was sitting in her yard just a few miles away.

  “If you’d like to see it, I get off work in a little while,” she said.

  — THE LOCAL PLYMOUTH SAVOY —

  We cruised through town looking for cars while waiting for Cindy to get off work at 10:00 a.m. Then we followed her over the river and through the woods to her house in the rural West Virginia countryside.

  There sat a wonderfully nostalgic Plymouth Savoy sedan, a powder blue version of the movie car in Christine.

  “It has a three on the column,” Cindy said as she showed us her car. “You know that red house we passed on the way here?” she asked. I did remember passing a red house about 1/4 mile back. “The man who lives there now is named Virgil. His daddy bought this car brand-new in 1959.

  “It only has 45,000 miles on it. I suspect he only drove it to town on Sundays. He never took it out of town, as far as I know. Then his son, Virgil, who is now 84, had it for years. Then my brother-in-law, who lives in the farmhouse across the creek, got the car. He left it out in the field to rust. So when I found out it was a ’59, and I was born in ’59, I had to have it.”

  Ever since the car was bought new in 1959, it had been owned by four different owners—who all lived within a half-mile from where we were standing. Amazing.

  Cindy wanted the car, so she traded her husband’s 1960-something BSA motorcycle to her brother-in-law for the Plymouth. Her brother-in-law still has the BSA, which he has never even ridden.

  Cindy is surrounded by “kin.” Her husband and all his brothers were born in the family farmhouse just over the creek. There were 13 kids altogether, who were all raised on the 250-acre spread.

  “They paid $3,000 or $4,000 for the land, and the family did some farming,” she said.

  “I wanted the Plymouth to drive,” said Cindy. “I got the local vo-tech school to do the bodywork and paint on the car, and the next step was to do the interior. I know it needs brake lines and new tires. But it runs well.”

  But then she mentioned she would sell it.

  “I know it will never get finished. My husband has his own Chevy projects he’s working on. I’m thinking $4,000 would be a fair price.”

  She showed us a couple of cars her husband and her son own: a 1964 Impala and a 1972 Monte Carlo. As we were walking around inspecting her family’s cars, we were accompanied by her dog, who had the wonderful name of Meatwad. Really.

  “If it was up to me, I’d sell these two cars, because I don’t think they’ll ever get fixed,” she said of the two Chevys. “But they will probably sit here forever.”

  We followed Cindy to her brother-in-law’s house up the hill. She thought we might like to see his collection of old motorcycles.

  Old Rider

  “My first bike was a 125cc BSA,” said Cindy’s brother-in-law, Dick Phares. “Then I got a 250cc BSA when I went to California. I’ve been through a lot of them since.”

  Today, Dick owns a Harley with a ’55 engine on a later model frame with later wheels. “Those hard tails would kill you,” he said. So he built a vintage-looking Softtail for himself.

  Even though he is 71 years old, and admittedly running out of energy, he said that none of his bikes were for sale. He showed us a racing Triumph Rickman, which was sitting in a lean-to behind his garage. He also had three BSA 441s that he hoped to turn into one decent bike someday.

  Cindy’s brother-in-law, Dick, lives just up the road from the house where he was born. His garage and sheds are littered with numerous BSA, Triumph, and Harley motorcycles. None are for sale.

  En route to Morgantown, West Virginia, we saw this mothballed locomotive. The 1950 GM has 2,250 horsepower.

  “But you know, I kind of like those electric starts these days,” said Dick.

  Inside he had several late 1960s, early 1970s Triumphs.

  “It’s awful when you have so many bikes you can’t remember what year they are,” Dick said.

  We thanked Cindy for introducing herself at the Hampton Inn, and said goodbye. We began to drive toward Morgantown, where we would spend the night. We had heard about Morganton Brewing Company and thought that it might be a neat place to have dinner and talk with some of the locals.

  En route to Morgantown, we passed an old train graveyard, and we had to stop.

  Brian, our heavy equipment specialist, was salivating at the sight of the old steam and diesel locomotives, especially the ones with art deco styling. In the yard was a GM-EMD E-8A. Fascinated, Brian texted his buddy and train enthusiast Rob Maloney for more information. Within an hour we found out that Engine #92 was delivered to the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad in 1950, finished in the beautiful Baltimore & Ohio blue, gray, and black Capitol Dome paint scheme. This
passenger road locomotive was in service for B&O before becoming Amtrak locomotive #210. Ultimately it ended up in the collection of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Museum before finding its way to this resting place in Elkins, West Virginia.

  It seemed Day 6 would not be such a great day for discovering cars. Even though we had driven beautiful rural roads for several hours, we had not made any great finds. Little did we know that, as the sun began to set, we’d stumble onto a wonderful discovery.

  We were following our GPS directions to the brewery, which was in Morgantown. But the turn came up too quickly, so we had to go past it a couple of blocks and make yet another U-turn. As we doubled back toward the brewery, less than 100 feet from where we would turn right into the brewery’s parking lot, I noticed an old garage door in a commercial building. The door was open and a 1941 Ford was peeking out.

  This is the former Morgantown Chevrolet dealership, now home of Vic’s Towing. When we drove by, I noticed a surprise sitting inside the open garage door.

  Could it be that just a half-a-block from the brewery we had made the discovery of another car? It turned out better than that. We pulled our Woody and the Flex into Morgantown Brewing Company’s small parking lot in the back of their building. Then we walked directly back to the old garage to have a look.

  The interior of the building was littered with old cars.

  I saw a woman in the office and asked her about the cars.

  “They belong to my brother Vic,” said Cindy Solomon. “You can have a look around if you like.”

  Vic Solomon operated Vic’s Towing Service, a business his father started decades earlier. Even though many of the cars he had stored were newer—a Firebird and a couple of Camaros that were not particularly interesting to me—a number of the cars were genuine barn finds.

  Looking for Morgantown Brewery, I saw this 1941 Ford peeking out of an old garage in the middle of town, and just 200 feet from the brewery!

  We walked through the garage, and in addition to the ’41 Ford two-door sedan, we saw a 1937 Packard sedan and a 1939 Mercury sedan. These cars were all in very nice condition but were absolutely filthy and obviously neglected.

  Cindy told us the building used to be a Chevy dealership, which made sense, because there was a spiral ramp in the back that led to a second floor. It was too tempting to pass up, so we hiked the steep incline and discovered another stash of old metal.

  The building was obviously in need of major repair because there were puddles of rainwater on the floor. And there were a number of old cars sitting among those puddles. Here was a 1938 Ford four-door sedan, an Edsel, and a’47 Pontiac.

  As we were snooping around, owner Vic Solomon arrived back. He was a dead-ringer for actor Peter Falk. Vic explained that the building had once been home to Wilson Chevrolet. He said their body shop was located upstairs, showroom on the street level, and mechanical repairs in the basement. We walked around with Vic and asked him to tell us about some of the old cars he owned. He started with the 1938 Ford Deluxe four-door, which he said was rust-free.

  Wedged between a Packard and an XJ6 Jaguar was this 1939 Mercury two-door sedan. The car, which belongs to Vic Solomon, is remarkably clean because it is kept covered.

  “If you lift up the floor mats in that car, the paint on the floorboards are just as shiny as when it was new,” he said. “It has been off the road since World War II and only has 48,000 miles. The old fellow kept it because he thought his son was coming home from the war, but he had been killed. So when the old fellow died, we bought it at an auction. I’ve had it since the early ’70s.”

  Vic said he has owned the 1941 Ford since the early 1970s as well. The last time it ran was when he bought it. I asked if he had restored it, and Vic said no, he had bought it in this condition. It was pretty nice.

  He explained that he and his father once operated a full-service repair shop, but when cars became more complicated, they decided not to invest in the necessary new equipment. So these days, he just stores cars and operates his towing service.

  “My brother bought the 1937 Packard from the local Subaru dealer,” said Vic. “When the dealer filed bankruptcy, he bought the car at auction about three years ago.”

  This ’37 Packard belongs to Vic’s brother. It is coated in dust and serves as a superhighway for a resident cat and a visiting raccoon.

  Next to the Packard was a 1939 Mercury, which is a very rare car because it was the first year of Mercury production.

  “My buddy found that car on the computer,” said Vic. “The old guy was selling out of everything and moving to Florida. I suppose it has been restored at one time, but I just don’t know. It has 22,000 miles on it. I bought it because I was never going to find another one.”

  Many of the cars had huge raccoon foot prints in the dust that rested on all the horizontal surfaces. He said the raccoon comes into his garage every night, probably through one of the missing windows panes.

  The second floor of Vic’s Towing held some real gems. This 1938 Ford four-door sedan is particularly clean. The paint on the rear floor still shines!

  Next to the ’38 Ford upstairs were a bunch of other cars: a 1947 Buick fastback; ’65 Ford Galaxy convertible; a Nash Metropolitan with 22,000 miles; a 1919 Ford Model T Depot Hack that had been owned by a local oil company; an Edsel with a shifter in the steering wheel; and several others. I asked Vic if he would sell any of these cars.

  “I’m going to start selling this stuff next year,” he said. “I’m 65 years old now, and in January I’ll be 66. I told my sister I wanted to quit then.”

  Vic told us his family also owns a junkyard outside of town. His father started it in 1945, but most of the old cars in their junkyard had been crushed years ago when the price of scrap metal was high. He did invite us to visit the junkyard but warned us that most of the old cars were very rusty. We decided to pass on the offer.

  A local oil company originally owned this Model T Ford truck. The Edsel next door has push-button shifting in the center of the horn button.

  This 1967 Ford convertible is a low-rider because of the flat tires. The 289-powered car would be a snap to restore.

  Wow, what an evening. It seems that whenever we begin to get depressed that we haven’t found enough cars, around the next corner we stumble on anther stash!

  So it was on to Morgantown Brewing Company for some food and libations, and maybe some more leads. Jesse Sedlock, the brewmaster, and Dina Brewer (perfect name, right?), our bartender, made us feel right at home. I had the Pale Ale and the IPA, which, along with a cheeseburger, made an ideal meal at the end of a great day.

  While we were eating, we began chatting with several patrons who were fascinated by our adventure. It seems that we were living out many people’s fantasies of just taking off on a road trip with no time schedule or destination.

  Vic Solomon is surrounded by at least 11 special-interest cars at his Morgantown towing service. He has hundreds of less interesting cars.

  Vic’s personal favorite is this 1947 Buick two-door fastback sedan. All these cars are under cover, but all the protective roofs’ leaks mean the cars often sit in puddles.

  THURSDAY, OCTOBER 2

  DAY 7

  Hump Day! We’re half-way through our 14-day journey!

  We stopped back at Vic Solomon’s one more time to take additional photos in the daylight and to say goodbye to Vic and his sister, Cindy. They had been so accommodating to allow us full access to their building.

  We had driven about 1,100 miles so far, not quite halfway into our adventure. Even though we had hoped to spend much more time in West Virginia, we started to plan our escape toward Maryland. This is too bad, because I have never spent much time in the Mountain State, even though I do love it for its scenery. But, because we spent too many days in Virginia, we needed to start heading for our third state, Maryland.

  Brian was planning the next leg of our journey, which would take us slightly north and east, still trying to stay exclusively
on secondary roads.

  — HEY, OFFICER… —

  We drove eastbound on Highway 7 in West Virginia, towards Hagerstown, Maryland, and stopped for lunch at a family-style restaurant. A Preston County sheriff was eating lunch, too, so I walked over to talk to him.

  “Excuse me, sir, but my friends and I are riding around looking for old cars that may be in the area,” I said. “Because you get all around the county on back roads, might you know of any old cars around here on farms or behind houses?”

  He was not very encouraging.

  “A few years ago, we had a big junk drive in the county to clean up the area,” said the sheriff. “Most of the old cars were hauled to the scrap yard and crushed.”

  Oh, shucks, I didn’t want to hear that.

  Back on the road on Highway 7, we were just a few miles from the restaurant when we spotted an old Ford in a driveway on the left side. From the road, it appeared to be either a 1955 or ’56 Ford.

  This 1956 Ford Crown Victoria sits in the West Virginia driveway of Huey Roberts, who is restoring it for his sister, Pam.

  No road trip is complete without your vehicle breaking down. Brian and I had to make some field repairs on the Woody—we installed a shorter drive belt to bypass a seized a/c compressor.