The members of the Scioto Model ‘A’ Ford Club maintain and ride vintage cars. Based in Columbus, in the warmer months they make regular road trips.
When I heard they were coming to Mansfield, I contacted club president John Baker to see if I could hitch a ride.
Happy to oblige, John reserved me the passenger seat in his 1930 Model ‘A’ Sport Coupe, and so it was that on a wet Saturday morning I met the group outside the Big Walnut Grill in Sunbury.
The plan was to avoid the interstate and take the smaller roads to Mansfield. The cars (nine in total) were soon lined up and ready to go so I climbed aboard.
“Not much space!” John said, “although you’d be surprised what I can fit in here if I need to.”
With a cheerful blast of the “AHOOGA” horn we were off, heading along Ohio 3 at a steady clip of 40 to 45 mph.
“Quite a smooth ride,” I said approvingly.
I’d been expecting a boneshaker.
“That’s more the Model ‘T’,” John explained. “It’s stiffer. Less advanced shock absorbers, more reliance on springs.”
As we chugged along, I asked John how many changes were needed to bring the vehicle up to modern safety standards.
“Well, none. The original standards apply. I’ve got yellow brake lights, and no turn lights at all. No seat belts as you noticed.”
He did tell me of one modern change: the electric system has been modified from 6-volt to 12.
“Didn’t have to do that,” said John, “but with 6-volt it’s like having two candles for headlights.”
I started to look over the very basic dashboard. The speedometer I recognized, optimistically topping out at 80 mph. There was an overdrive switch, which John explained essentially takes you to fourth gear.
“There’s not a lot of information here,” he said, indicating the dash. “You need to think for yourself and look out for trouble. You can’t be messing around on your phone, you never know what you’re going to deal with.
“Once I was driving and the steering wheel came clean away in my hands.”
I shot a nervous glance at the steering column and asked, “What do you do in that situation?”
“Not much you can do,” said John, as he flipped us into overdrive. “Just stick it back in and hope to God it catches.”
What’s the fastest you’ve got out of it?
“I’ve had it at 70 with the overdrive. It’s not comfortable, it’s a white-knuckle ride at that speed – but if I’m driving this car, I’m not in a hurry. I’m allowed to drive it on the freeway, but why would I? I want to enjoy the ride.”
I looked back at the dashboard and asked about the gas gauge.
“Ah well that doesn’t work. The cork fell off so it doesn’t display.”
Reaching down, he showed me the vehicle’s dipstick.
“I use this instead. I just stick it in the tank whenever we pull over.”
By now we were motoring smoothly along Ohio 61. At an intersection we passed a traveling wagon train waiting to enter. Yes, an actual wagon train, horses and covered wagons.
“Not Amish,” said John, “too colorful. You never know what you’re going to see on these back roads. We’ve got more horsepower than them, and that’s not something I get to say very often!”
We made good time and were soon merging onto Ohio 42 at Mount Gilead.
“Massive blind spot,” said John, indicating the small driver-side mirror. “And that’s not original, either – out of the factory they had no side-mirrors at all.”
Curious about the prior history, I asked if it was possible to trace the ownership of the vehicle back to 1930.
“Oh yes,” said John, “I’m only the fourth owner. It was originally purchased by a guy who ran a gas station in Canal Winchester and he kept it for 30 years. Then he sold it to the owner of a sausage factory. So for a long time it was just a regular working vehicle. It wasn’t until the 1970’s that restoration work was done on it.”
Our fleet of cars passed through Lexington ahead of schedule, and as we headed into Mansfield I pointed out local landmarks like the Wiener King. John spotted the old Texaco gas station at the corner of 2nd and Main.
“I love that!”
It’s now Hitchman Bonds & Surety but the frontage is very well preserved.
Coming up the hill on Diamond Street, one of the cars blew a fuse. This was the first mishap of the day and a relatively mild one. A couple of others stayed to help while we drove on ahead.
“Probably the spark plugs,” John mused. “They’re in a little well right at the top of the engine, very easy for rain to accumulate there.”
Now we’d arrived in town, the plan was to take in a tour of the Mansfield Reformatory before gathering on the Square for a late lunch. As we pulled into the Ohio State Reformatory driveway (site of the Shawshank Redemption), the combination of the setting and our period cars made me feel like a film extra.
Would you ever let your car be used in a movie, I asked?
“Sure. Why not? I mean if they’re gonna roll one of these or splatter it with blood squibs, they’d probably use a mock-up anyway, but for regular driving I’d be fine with it. Not everyone likes getting their car dirty. I don’t mind. This is a working vehicle and when I get it home it’s often covered with mud, and that’s fine.”
After the tour we ate a great afternoon lunch at Coney Island Inn on South Park Street. The day had been a success, and as we began the return trip to Sunbury I smiled to see the friendly waves and honks from the cars we passed on Lexington Avenue.
“This is great!” I said. “Just seeing these old cars really lifts people’s spirits.”
“Yep,” said John, “it’s a rolling car show! Most people are so nice, and when we stop they want to ask questions. Although in town folks can get impatient sometimes. Not everyone who gestures at me is waving, put it that way.
“But here’s the thing – how many people would pay to see these cars in a dusty museum? Not many. But out here on the road they get to see the cars in action for free.”
I couldn’t agree more. These cars were meant to be driven and I’m delighted the Model ‘A’ Club keeps them on the road. They’re a piece of living history and it was a real pleasure to ride along.
Check out the club at http://themodelaclub.org/
