I never really had a garage to work in. My first workshop was an old chicken coop that had sat unused in my grandmother's back yard. When my parents divorced, mom and us moved in with grandma when I was about 5 years old. I guess around the time I was 12 or so, I got interested in fixing bicycles and other stuff, so I started fixing up the old chicken coop. I worked out of that building for about 15 years. I'd pull up what ever vehicle I was tinkering on next to the building and wrench on it outside the shop's door. Electricity was supplied at first by an extension cord hung thru a couple of trees that was plugged into a porch light on the house. My mom would flip the light switch a couple of times to let me know I was needed at the house. That could get "exciting" sometimes if I was using any power tools at that moment. Eventually, I rented a ditch witch and ran some 12 ga. wire underground to the shop from the house's main panel. Then I went a whole bunch of years with no place to work except my driveway, hauling tools to and from the basement. That sucks no matter how you slice it. A few years ago, I got a nice shed delivered and that is ever so slowly getting set up for me to work out of. I have no electricity there yet, but cordless tools make that better than the old days.
I once had a house with no garage, and it was a real pain in my normal shop routine of buying old cars and fixing them up to resell. Just happened to be during the mid 70's gas crisis so mostly tiny cars with good mileage were of interest to me, and luckily some of the engines were two and three cylinder ones that I could carry down to the basement bench. I even carried a little four cylinder Coventry Climax engine from a Sunbeam Imp down to work on it there...good thing it was an aluminum block! The whole engine and transmission weighed 176 lbs, so without the head and trans on it, the block could be carried with some effort. Man, I could not do that sort of crap nowadays!!!
Dad had a basement workshop in the old farmhouse. Outside entrance only. There was a set of covered stairs over it and the doorway was about 4 feet wide. Was toasty warm in the winter so dad did stuff down there he probably shouldn't have.
From Grenade Garage to OSHA approved. Two foreign dudes ran Grenade Garage close to the country elevator not far from grandpap's farm...you didn't want to stick around and watch them work cause you'd pull your hair out. They just tossed stuff inside after and shut the door...hence the name. Pile it up, toss in a live grenade, shut the door and let the explosion sort it all out! It was a last resort establishment, but it was close by.
Good old Junior. He's in my old NASCAR ' Cheatin' book. My favorite NASCAR story in it is Smokey Yunick driving a mile back to the pits after they took his gas tank off to check the size. Apparently he got tired of waiting. His fuel line was so big it was like a reserve tank.
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