Delivering the Disgustang

My new-to-me 1966 Mustang coupe was lovingly delivered by my friend to my house on May 25, 2013…two days before I left to work in Canada for three and a half months.  The delivery went semi-smoothly–I sat in the car to steer while my friend guided and pushed the car off the car trailer.  His exact words were, “since it’s yours now, why don’t you sit in this moldy, dusty car and steer while I push?”  I mistook his signal to turn the wheel slightly to the right and drove the car right off the side of the ramp, BANG!  Oh, well.

Having only opened the hood once, I felt like I was in an aborted long-distance relationship the entire time I was away.  I wanted to start ordering a few parts and budgeting my restoration, but I didn’t even know what color the interior was supposed to be.  Did the car have power steering?  Disc brakes? An 8-track tape player?  I didn’t know.

So I ordered a few parts that I knew I’d need anyway, whether or not the engine was to be rebuilt, and then spent more money buying service manuals, assembly manuals, and other various bits and pieces.

My original target number was $10,000, but after budgeting the project out realistically, I was already at $16,800 including the purchase price of the car.  A harder, firmer figure would have to wait until I got home.