I love cars. I don’t think there wasn’t a time that I wouldn’t sit with my dad and oogle some beautifully restored Tri-Five or 70s muscle machine that passed by. We never had anything classic growing up, but I can tell you that when I came in to the world, the old man traded in his 1966 Dodge Coronet (with a 440) for a 1972 Ford Pinto station wagon, because, well, sometimes a man gives up what he loves for his family. I can tell you that I carry some deep-seated guilt over that life choice.

My love of cars extends beyond make or model, and crosses over years. I would love nothing more that to have a 1957 Plymouth Fury in my garage, not because it tears up asphalt, but for the beauty of the design. To me, cars produced now are too similar, too generic. A ’57 Fury? The slope of the top, the lines on the fins, the overhang above the headlights – this car screams class, and from a time when the US was full of hope and optimism about the future. My 1965 Ford Thunderbird has an instrument panel reminiscent of a rocketship, which calls to mind the expanding space program and race to the moon.  The late 60s and early 70s muscle cars? Reminders of a time when gas was cheap, and we were on top of the world – until the subsequent oil crises  in 1973 and 1979. Cars are always a reminder of our past – our collective and personal histories – however, many have been treated with a sense of disposability, with most crushed and recycled into other things. The ones that remain can light our sentimentality into a fire of who were once were, and what we can still aspire to.

The Lost Road is a photoblog dedicated to classic cars and trucks everywhere, showcasing the ones that cross my path – some restored or modified and loved, others a work in progress, and the unlucky few that are abandoned and being reclaimed by time through decay.

Oh, and me? I’m the proud owner of a 1972 Dodge Charger and the aforementioned ’65 Ford Thunderbird. They aren’t perfect, but they make me happy.