1979 HZ Kingswood: Our shed

By: Scott Murray, Photography by: Nathan Jacobs

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1979 HZ Kingswood 1979 HZ Kingswood 1979 HZ Kingswood
1979 HZ Kingswood 1979 HZ Kingswood 1979 HZ Kingswood
1979 HZ Kingswood 1979 HZ Kingswood 1979 HZ Kingswood
1979 HZ Kingswood 1979 HZ Kingswood 1979 HZ Kingswood

Staffer Scott's taken a big bite of sentimental family Holden. Again

1979 HZ Kingswood: Our shed
Our shed: 1979 HZ Kingswood

1979 HZ Kingswood

Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? I’ve been (very) slowly pulling bits off the Torana envisioning a re-spray in the not-too-distant. I’m also renovating rooms in the brick veneer shack (so naturally there’s crap everywhere), and I just started my mortgage. It’s all go-go-go in my world. Yet, bewilderingly, I agree to take Pa’s HZ Kingswood, left for my younger brother, off his hands as he moves into a rental. I’m an idiot.

When I saw the photos on snapper Jacobs’ computer, I nearly died laughing. With his natural genius hard at work one cold Doncaster morning, he made the dented Dromana beach basher look almost heroic. Clearly, it isn’t.

But I assure you, this old girl’s seen more of Australia than any plastic robot built in the last 20 years. She’s a true-blue workhorse. Nothing could stop the old 253 V8 as it crossed Australia multiple times with the Franklin caravan in tow – which still sees action, by the way.

So there’s more than meets the eye with this wonky wagon. And I say wagons are cool again. Safaris, Sundowners, Sandmans… Hot property.

My older brother many years back poked his butt crack at the world as he tinkered under the bonnet, then seems to have sprayed the rear quarter while waiting for the kettle to boil because there’s blue overspray on the mudflaps, boot windows and side chrome trim, but points for having a go.

Younger brother, a second-year apprentice mechanic, has done his best trying to at least get the old beast moving again – changing hoses, replacing the ignition coil and plug leads – only to find the bloody block is cracked. Hence those succulent-looking weeds in the wheelarches.

So now it’s my turn. If you caught the last remarks of my Torana yarn back in issue #359, I’m not a mad scientist. I can hear you now: "Sell it!", "Pull the pin!", "I’ll have it!". But, in the nicest way possible, rack off. I grew up in this car and I’m a sucker for sentimentality. Isn’t that why we’re all gathered here?

The ratty old carpet, in all its sand-filled glory, is now gone, the centre armrest/console has been pulled out, and all that delicious-smelling vinyl is in reasonable nick.

Once my spring clean of the shed is done (renovations, don’t forget), I’ll start pulling bits off and meat-hooking them from the rafters, ready for the renaissance. Who knows what I’m going to find.

The iffy part about this Kingy is the chunky spots of rust under the front windscreen. Mind you, that’s what I can see. What’s that old saying about hindsight? Challenge accepted.



More reviews:

> Buyer's guide: 1971-79 HQ-HZ Premier



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