"RITCHIE"
1969 VF Valiant Regal

In 2000 I turned 18 and was on the look out for my first car. My father, being a Chrysler bloke his whole life, was determined to make my first car a Chrysler of some sort, and he was on the look out for a Centura for me.

My "dream car" had always been the VG Valiant Mexicana 770, because my older brother had owned one when I was a kid, and I had loved them ever since.

When another member of our car club (who coincidentally also happened to be my driving instructor at the time) advertised the red VF hardtop, Dad was quick off the mark and keen to buy. Unfortunately, a fellow club member had got in before us, and it seemed quite certain he would buy it.

At this stage, I hadn't even been told what was going on. It wasn't until the sale with the other interested party fell through, Dad informed me that he was going to look at the VF "on my behalf" while I was at school. I had never seen the car before, and the black and white photo in the advertisement didn't do the car much justice. I was a bit disappointed at first, because although I was itching to get a car, and really wanted a Chrysler, I had never liked the VF's nearly as much as I liked the VG's. I also didn't want a car that I had to spend years working on to make it roadworthy.

Two days and $500 later, I was the owners of one very slimy, very rough running red VF hardtop.

When Dad had gone to check it out, he saw the potential in it and picked me up and took me to have a look straight after school. I had fallen in love with him on first sight. He was sitting in a paddock of waist high grass, and was covered in slime, but he was red, white and big, and I loved him. I always considered myself a bit of a rebel, and I knew any girl getting around in such a distinguishable car would be a rebel for life.

Getting him home was mostly smooth sailing. Having been unregistered and unstarted for about 10 months, he started suprisingly quickly, but was running VERY rough. We lived less than 10 minutes away, so Dad drove him home, but just as he was being reversed into the shed, flames started bellowing out from the grill. The electrics were in desperate need of repair, and a loose live wire had been swinging around, which had started the fire in the very dirty engine bay.

Things were all uphill from then on, Dad repaired what small amount of rust there was, a full service and a fair bit of tinkering around under the bonnet, and within about 2 months, Ritchie was back on the road. Meanwhile I had cleaned up the interior, polished all the chrome, replaced globes, repainted the hubcaps, door trims, handles etc. I basically removed, cleaned and fixed up anything I could unscrew! I might have only been an 18 year old chick, but I wanted to be able do things on my own car as well, why should Dad have all the fun!?

Ritchie has now been my daily driver for five years. He is still my one and only car, and I suspect it will be that way for a very long time.

I moved out of home, and Mum and Dad moved 5 hours west, so my boyfriend has taken over as my "personal mechanic" when things go wrong that are beyond my skills. You might all know him as sbadman, the guy who was into Holdens until he met a chick known as VALGAL...

RITCHIE AT A GLANCE

225 Slant Six, with extractors, electronic ignition, Topgun sports leads, Speco air cleaner.

Monza red with white vinyl roof, beige interior.

Pic 2 courtesy Jarrod Pulo.

More pics at: BADMAN ONLINE FORUM GALLERY