If there's one universal thing that unites members of the Central Alberta Vintage Auto Club (CAVAC), it's the excitement caused by the unexpected glint of chrome hidden in the bushes or the body of a truck in a farmer's field.
Every old vehicle, abandoned and left to the elements, poses a challenge for these types of people, people who Malcolm Fischer says have caught the "virus."
Fischer, Bob Poapst and Charlie Usher are just three of the local automobile aficionados in CAVAC, which spans all of central Alberta. The three have owned various automobiles over the years and have acquired them in various states, restoring them all to a point where they look like they'd just rolled off the line.
Usher owns a 1955 Dodge Custom Royal, Poapst a 1950 Hudson, and Fischer three — a 1938 McLaughlin Buick Century, a 1958 Buick Roadmaster and a 1974 Buick Wildcat.
CAVAC is a group for men and women who enjoy vintage vehicles to come together and share their love of the old car and truck, show off their hard work, and drive the vehicles they restore.
"We frown on Trailer Queens," Fischer said, explaining that the term refers to people who use a trailer to haul their vehicles to various shows, ensuring they're never driven on open road. "If they enjoy that, good on them. But what's the point in having a car if you're not going to drive it?"
There's something magical about driving an older vehicle, Fischer said. Touring around Alberta and discovering the sights while behind a vehicle as old, or older, than you, wind in the hair as windows are down, listening to the radio as the rolling hills of Central Alberta scroll by, is a powerful experience.
"And you discover all sorts of things in your own backyard, things you never knew were there," Fischer said. He said that during one trip, they stopped at a small farm to look at the "Bergen Rocks." It had a tiny little sign and was known for its sculptures.
"As we turned into the farm, I thought, 'Oh, great, some inukshuks,'" Fischer recalled. Then he got a major surprise — the farm is home to world-class sculptures, some carved from marble, others made of stone. It was an unexpected surprise, and exciting to find such high quality, from around the globe, on a small farm in central Alberta.
"They were exceptional quality," he said. "Like right out of a museum in Italy." There were three tasteful nude statues of women, but the men barely noticed, Fischer recalled, as there was an old rusted truck across the path.
"That's how you know you're with car people," he said with a laugh. "Statues of three beautiful women, and they're looking at an old rusted truck."
Poapst's love of vintage vehicles started when he bought his first car, a rusty, barely running 1968 Firebird.
"It'd drive, but it needed paint and body work," Poapst recalled.
Growing up in Cornwall, Ont., where stock car racing is a big attraction, Poapst had access to a lot of "older stuff," though it wasn't until he started fixing up his Firebird that the car virus bit.
Over the years, he's owned various vehicles, but now has his 1950 Hudson, a vehicle that he said "found him."
"I'd seen the (type of) car before and thought it was nice," Poapst said. "There was one at a farm auction in Morrin, but we were busy so we didn't go."
The car didn't sell at the auction, and Stettler's Auction Mart bought it. Fischer saw it was there, and phoned in and discovered the vehicle's status. Knowing that Poapst had his eye on the car, he let his car buddy know.
"I bought it," Poapst said. "It's kinda rare, and I took a shine to them. It had all the original papers in the glove compartment, so I was able to track down the previous owner. She said her father had bought the car new in Ontario, driven it west across Canada."
The peacock-green vehicle was in excellent condition when Poapst bought it, but had been sitting a while so there was some work to do on the guts of the car, though the body was in near-perfect condition.
Fischer was an avowed Ford and Chevy man until the McLaughlin Buick crossed his path. He hasn't looked back. The car, which is a more rare model as it's built in Canada and had some of the fancier accessories, is harder to find parts for. That gave Poapst a chance to get a little back on Fischer, who had ribbed him ceaselessly about his car, which at the time was an Oldsmobile.
"He used to tell me, 'Get a Ford, get a Chevy! They're common and easy to find parts for,'" Poapst recalled. "Then one day he calls me, and says, 'What do you think about a Buick?'"
The Buick is harder to find parts for, but then Fischer made it even tougher by purchasing a rarer model, Poapst said. Whenever Fischer lamented over parts, Poapst would be able to throw the Ford/Chevy line back at his friend, who had teased him for years.
Fischer had stories of his own, too. Growing up the son of a mechanic, he always thought he'd be one too.
"My dad used to tease me that as a toddler, if I saw the flash of chrome in the bushes, I'd make him stop so I could go look," Fischer noted with a chuckle. "But I was good at math, and everyone pushed me toward engineering."
At the time, Fischer worked for McTaggart Motors, and his boss told him that he knew several engineers, and that all of them hated their job.
"He arranged for me to shadow some engineers one day, and by the end of that day, I knew I didn't want to do that," Fischer admitted. With a talent for mathematics, he went into teaching, and loved every moment of it.
One of the first cars he rebuilt on his own was a 1947 Chevy that he pulled out of his uncle's farm field. It had to be completely rebuilt.
"I had it up on cinder blocks in the driveway," Fischer recalled. "Our neighbour had this bulldog, and he could run right under the truck. I'd always hear him coming."
While working under the truck, the dog often kept him company, including a lot of face licks. When Fischer finished restoring the car and was able to take it on the road, he took the dog along with him for the ride.
While Poapst and Fischer love their vintage vehicles, the draw of shiny chrome and sparkling metal-chip paint isn't the only reason they participate in CAVAC. It's the companionship of like-minded people.
"You meet people from all over," Fischer said. He recalled one trip in which he drove to Portland, Ore. He had just parked his car when another driver, in the same model, parked across the lot. Once he was parked, he crossed right over to Fischer, and introduced himself.
"Where you from?"
Fischer relayed that he was from Stettler and how many miles he's travelled to get to Portland, proud of the number — slightly less than a 1,000 miles.
"I'm Jack, from New Orleans, Louisiana," the man said with a Cajun drawl, informing Fischer that his trip had taken him over 3,000 miles from home.
"You have this immediate bond with these strangers," Fischer said. "You're car people."
Poapst agreed.
"You meet all sort of interesting people and have the most fantastic conversations," he said.
Both said people who are "infected with the vintage car virus" should start small, since restoring vehicles can be pricey, both in time, money, and peace of mind.
"Buy the best you can afford," Poapst said. "Not the most work you can afford. It costs more than you'd think."