The Field Car was a beater. It was a 1971 Maverick, which I bought in 1980 while in college. It wasn’t really a beater then, but it didn’t take me long to turn it into one. With dedication and determination, any car can be turned into a beater in a matter of months.

The transformation on the Maverick began when my room mate Tim came home with me for the weekend, and I had to repair the fences around the horse pasture. My parents left for the day, and we didn’t want to carry fence wire, tools, and extra posts around a 200 acre pasture, so we put it all in my car and headed out. All was well for the most part, until we got bored and decided to see how well the Maverick would take the hills. The educational opportunities in this type of exercise cannot be overstated. Not only did we get most of the fences fixed that weekend, but we learned how to replace shock absorbers, too! We could have learned to do some body and paint work as well, but we decided that the little scratches and dings just added character to the car. Tim dubbed it the “Field Car,” a name that has stuck with the Maverick ever since.

Beatership wasn’t bestowed upon the Field Car all at once. Sometimes days or even weeks would go by without it acquiring a single new distinguishing feature. Then just when it seemed like progress had stalled, an opportunity for further customization would present itself, although I seldom recognized it as such until after the fact. The distinctive markings on the roof of the car for example came about when Tim and I were on our way to meet some friends and didn’t want to wait for a train. When we saw the lights start flashing at a crossing up ahead, we were sure we could safely beat the on-coming train. Indeed, we beat the train with a hundred yards to spare. It was the descending barrier that proved to be the real challenge. We actually did beat it… mostly.

As with most Fords in those days, the Maverick’s starter solenoid was mounted on the inside of the fender, next to the battery. These solenoids were a common point of failure. This wasn’t too much of a problem, because one can bypass the solenoid by positioning a screwdriver across two contact points on these devices, thereby starting the car. This was a great source of amusement for those of us who know how to take advantage of the situation. If for example my friend Mike and I were leaving a convenience store and noticed several people milling around, we would dash out like we were being pursued by the devil himself.