Motor Head {road scholar}: Fives alive

By Newt Briggs

Thanks to Detroit's longstanding policy of disposability, cars, like people, tend to lose their luster over time. With each passing generation, American automobile manufacturers flood the market with a slew of bigger, faster and marginally better cars, while antiquated (but functional) buggies die slow deaths in rusty graveyards. Contrary to what Jesus might have said, it is actually the sleek that inherit the Earth, and they do so year after year after year.

Yet there have been a few automobiles destined for immortality, or for Lazarus-like ascensions from the junk pile to the display stand. Although a few exceptions exist, the majority of these cars were produced between 1949 and 1971--the golden age of the domestic roadster. From dreamboats to muscle cars, fins to air scoops, this 32-year automotive renaissance saw the birth of the 1955 Ford Thunderbird, 1956 Studebaker Golden Hawk, 1964 Pontiac GTO, 1969 Buick GS400 and the 1970 Chevy Camaro Z-28.

But while these were all impressive vehicles, the finest--at least in many minds--were the Chevys produced from 1955 to 1957. Commonly known as the Tri-Five Chevys, these models--the pickup, the Bel Air and the Nomad wagon--are often exalted as the ideal fusion of performance and design, and many were on display at Sunday's muscle car and street rod show at Henderson's Hot Rod Grille.

Among the finest was Ken Ong's '55 Nomad, which he restored from a $6,000 "bucket of bolts" two years ago. "When I bought it," says Ong, "all of the parts were piled up inside the car. Engine parts, the doors--everything was in there." Resurrected by mechanics and fabricators in Lake Havasu and Prescott, Ariz., Ong had the car completely customized from the suspension to the CD/DVD/GPS display in the dash.

Reminiscing with fellow car collector Ken Dickinson, Ong says the car takes him back to the days when he and his friends used to "cruise the drag" down Fremont Street. "The old Union Pacific train station at the end of Fremont had a big circular drive that was tailor-made for cruising. We'd pull over, rev our engines, sweet-talk the girls. I'm telling you, it was the thing."

"There used to be a whole circuit that we would drive," Dickinson adds. "We'd go from the train station down Fremont to the Blue Onion, which was one of those classic drive-in restaurants. Then we'd cut across the Blue Onion to Charleston and go up to cruise the A&W at Charleston and Maryland. Then we'd head up Charleston to Las Vegas Boulevard, where the Tip Top, another restaurant, used to be. After that, we'd roll back down Main Street, hit the train station again and just make that loop all night long."

Although Ong's new Nomad is an exercise in stylistic indulgence that puts his first car to shame, he says his automotive priorities are still the same. "Someone told me to look at it this way: Do you count how much money you spend on your wife? Then you shouldn't count how much money you spend on your car."

Says Dickinson: "The first car I ever had was a '57 Chevy Bel Air with a blown engine and a blown transmission that I bought when I was 14. I had a paper route, I washed cars and every penny I had went into that car. Two long years later, I had it up and running and out on the road."

The only thing the pair regrets about the time is that they had to see the period end. Both graduates of Las Vegas High School, they distinctly recall the destruction of the train station, the closure of the Blue Onion and the subsequent devolution of the American automobile.

"You know, I think the cars really went downhill right about the time of the oil crisis," says Ong. "That's when the looks and the horsepower really started to taper off. Before that, though, it was really a great time--big cars, plenty of gas, no worries and nowhere to go. I guess it was inevitable that we'd all have to grow up sometime."