The annual Hangar Rockin' festival is slowly turning into some kind of love/hate thing. Just like most successful events do, it keeps growing bigger and bigger – which, as we all know, doesn't necesseraly mean "better". While in previous years it was feasible to avoid the crowds thanks to clever planning, this year this seemed impossible. But it wasn't just a matter of popularity. The whole event is starting to look and feel like a giant open air music festival with many of the drawbacks you know from those kinds of shows. – Oh well, it just ain't what I used to be, right? So, maybe I'm just getting old? That's probably another reason why I wasn't too busy with my camera and instead preferred hanging at our booth talking to friends. Which is, one of my favorite things about this show, as you can also be sure to meet tons of great people. And there were also a lot of beautiful cars. Which makes me wish I had taken more photos but after the fifth dude stumbling in front of my lens I was kinda done. Except for this shoebox Ford. Ramon, you outdid yourself.
Some other rides that caught my attention. I'm happy to see that colors are coming back in force.
But that shoebox...
Click here for the gallery with 42 photos!
Off to the gallery...
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to the end;
Each changing place with that which goes before.
In sequent toil all forward do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity , wherewith being crown’d,
Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his story fight,
And Time, that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauties brow;
Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
And yet, to times in hope, my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Some fellas and some Fords.
An old Indian.
Mr. Schuppli's AV8 roadster.
Getting tattooed and getting weird looks.
This super rare Mercury Commuter wagon sounded sweet, too.
Clean 54 Bel Air.
Girls tattoing girls. Somehow this sounds like a name for a new hipster band.
Mario's badass 41 Ford.
Remo's Shoebox also known as the Le Corbusier chop.
Marcel did a good job on adjusting the stance of his beautiful 61 wagon.
Switzerland's premier store for your kustom needs.
build thread on the HAMB. So, you may ask why the hell am I posting these old news? Chris doesn't even own the car anymore! Well, a couple of days ago I unearthed this bunch of photos I had taken in 2011. And since most of them never got published before, I thought they might be worth a look. At least I can't stop staring at the perfect chop and sinister attitude of this ol' black Ford.
Have you ever seen a 1950 Ford with better flowing lines? I don't think so, Tim.
The third headlight adds some spice to the beautiful factory front design.
Chris didn't just chop and paint the car. He even did the whole interior by himself. Who knows, maybe his true last name is Gonzalez?
There's nothing like a chopped black leadsled rolling down the Boulevard.
The car now resides in Denmark, Europe so I hope to see it over here this summer. Thanks for watching!