Not Camino, but Ranchero.
New Year's Eve, 1970. Seventeen year olds Jimmy Korth & myself stayed at a brother-in-law's cabin outside of Tigerton. There was an early 60's ranchero at our disposal. Being mature for our age and New Year's eve at that, we first went to the local bowling alley and bought a package of Swisher Sweet cigars. Then beebopped down the frozen two lane to Mark's Beer Shack in Elderon, where if you were old enough to crawl up on the stool, you were probably old enough to drink a Hamm's shorty. Sometime between the first shorty and the next morning, the cocktail of beer, cigars and spinning ranchero-induced brodies on the icy deserted country roads resulted in bad juju.
Caminos/ranchero car/trucks have always reminded me of that fatefull night.
jh
