August 2016 - Acquiring my first 240, nicknamed "Moby"
I've always liked cars, ever since I was a toddler. But for whatever reason (seriously, I have no idea why), I began liking Volvos in middle school. I didn't know anyone with a Volvo, nobody in my family was a car enthusiast, and local car communities leaned toward muscle cars and trucks (rural Idaho in the middle of potato fields, what do you expect).
Realizing how different Volvo was from American manufacturers, I was intrigued to start exploring their lineups over the years, and absorbed the information like a sponge. Eventually, I settled on wanting a Volvo 240 wagon.
Here's the crazy part: I was fourteen years old, and
I'd never seen a Volvo 240 in-person. So, to me, it wasn't a dime-a-dozen sort of car; it was more like a total unicorn.
Not long after, we moved to Boise, where I started saving up my allowances to buy a Volvo 240. I did not have my drivers license (or even a permit), any tools,
any car knowledge, or anything else useful, but I was completely determined to own one.
Finally, when I was fifteen years old, one came up for sale that was remotely in my price range: A white 1987 Volvo 240 wagon. The seller said it needed a lot of work and was being sold as scrap. Nonetheless, it had a clean title and was $300. Making the argument to my parents to drive me 3+ hours for a $300 parts car was tough, but they eventually caved and took me up there.
Being Idaho, the car was on a mule farm, surrounded by potato and corn fields outside of a small town called Council. Driving up the dirt road to the seller's house, I distinctly remember the excitement I had from seeing a 240 for the first time ever. And as a then-freshman in high school, this had been my halo car for nearly two years, so yes, it was a pretty big deal.
The inside of the car smelled a little weird and had stains. Turns out this car frequently hauled fresh-born mules around the farm, and then was a dog hauler with the occasional bale of hay. Otherwise, the car was mostly intact and did drive on its own. Although I didn't know anything about cars, a quick Google search recommended I have extra oil, antifreeze, duct tape, and zip ties. I gave the seller my $300 and off we went. The first stop was the gas station, where I had this photo taken of me:
Since I was too young for driver's ed, my Dad drove the car and I rode in the passenger seat. For the first hour toward home, I was probably the happiest kid in the world... a memory I'll have for the rest of my life. Why did that feeling only last for one hour of a three-hour drive? Because we broke down, that's why. The upper radiator hose had popped, spewing coolant all over the engine bay. Thanks to Google keeping me prepared, I duct taped the hose, refilled the coolant, and off we went... for another hour. Turns out, when you know nothing about cars, you don't know to notice when the car has no alternator. Remember when I said this was being sold as a parts/scrap car? Yeah, the alternator had already been scavenged by someone else. Hats off to the Napa battery surviving two hours (and however long it was sitting in the car before). We were able to pull off into a parking lot, but the discouragement really began to settle in. I had my dream car, but it couldn't even survive the drive home.
To expand on the whole I-didn't-know-anything-about-cars thing, I suggested we pull the 240 home with a tow strap. BUT, I didn't know that tow points were a legitimate thing, and proceeded to accidentally yank off the whole front radiator support from the 240 by tying the tow rope to an incorrect mounting point. So there I was, still over an hour away from home, with a broken-down Volvo 240 with a ripped-off front end.
The next day, I called the business owner of the parking lot where I'd broken down and explained the situation. The following weekend, the car was fetched with a truck and trailer to be brought home.
Since the Volvo was broken in the garage, it forced me to learn a thing or two. I purchased a couple of repair manuals, hit YouTube University, and began learning everything I could about getting the 240 back on the road. I was able to go to local junkyards that had 240's to grab parts and slowly began correcting my mistakes and replacing the missing parts from the seller. It took a while to find headlights and a grille, so I was stuck with duct taped headlights and no grille for a few months. Nevertheless, I got my driver license and began driving the car. As items broke, I hit the books to learn how to fix them. That's how I lived life in 2016 and 2017. Since the car was a big white whale, it was nicknamed "Moby." Here are some pictures I compiled along the way:
