The Way of Rick

Since 1970, when I bought my first Toyota Hilux, every time I purchase a new truck, I design and build a rack to carry my lumber. Not because I like making new racks, but because my trucks tend to last just long enough to become obsolete. By the time I am ready for a new truck, the body size and style of the new models changed, so my existing rack does not fit my new rig. I have thought about buying one of the many factory made modular metal rack systems, but i just can’t give in. I choose to go with a solution made of wood. It’s all due to my college friend Rick. Rick would never buy something new unless he couldn’t build it or find one at the dump. His wife, Anita calls it “The Way of Rick”. There is a simplicity and frugality to Rick’s retrofits that have an elegant whimsy. I believe much of it came from Rick’s dad.

Rick’s father grew up on a ranch in Carmel Valley that was pushed aside to make room for housing developments and a shopping center. Farm life taught Rick’s dad, William, a kind of practical thrift and inventiveness that he would take to MIT where he taught radar during the war and also later, to his engineering career. Rick and his dad would rebuild model A fords, ancient motorcycles and a lot of other stuff. His way of thinking and working was revolutionary to me and has affected me to this day. Rick introduced me to the joy of making and about a kind of thrifty invention. His passion for his work and attention to detail was infectious.

Rick never bought a new car. He would always fix up older vehicles, often using some pretty unusual techniques to keep them running. While we were in college, the engine in my VW panel van blew; it dropped a valve and wiped out the motor. I was about to sell my van for scrap, when Rick suggested we pull the motor and rebuild it. Since I had never rebuilt or even torn an engine apart, his suggestion seemed pretty outrageous, but Rick had a strategy for dealing with a rank beginner like me. He showed up the next day with a spiral bound workbook “ How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive: A Manual of Step-by-Step Procedures for the Compleat Idiot”.  With guidance from this manual and Rick’s mentorship, even I could grasp the concepts of how to disassemble and reassemble my 1600cc engine.

My next lesson in “the way of Rick” was when he borrowed my 20 year – old, 10 speed Phillips bike to take a cycling trip around Nova Scotia with his girlfriend. In order to ensure a trouble free journey, he tuned up the whole bike including repacking all the wheel bearings, new brake pads and replacing all the shift and brake cables. He then built a bike rack from oak slats, plywood and copper rivets so that he could support his home-made panniers -saddlebags. Years later when I was in grad school at Rhode Island School of Design, three of the industrial design faculty came through our studio workspace. I had the bike with Rick’s bike rack in the shop and all three of them commented on the simplicity and engineering of the rack.

Re-use, re-build & re-cycle was ‘the way of Rick” long before it was in vogue. As our friend Michael used to say, “Rick could squeeze the blood out of a penny”, but he did it with such grace and simplicity that he made an indelible impression on whomever he touched. I have carried on ‘the way of Rick”, particularly with my vehicles. For many years, I attempted to buy older trucks, in-the-manner-of-Rick, fix them up and try to keep them running. I got tired of going to the junkyard to extract needed parts for my old trucks. Eventually, I gave in and bought my first Toyota truck. The first thing I needed for my new truck was a lumber rack but there have been many variations since.  I guess it was my way of connecting with my inner-mechanic, without having to rebuild or restore an older car.

The many travels I took with my second truck required me to build a wood camper glazed with plexy side panels to support my nomadic lifestyle. After that, every time I got a new vehicle, I design and build a rack just-to-fit. A cherry rack seemed like a good compliment to my burgundy four-door. One other day, my son and I were driving back home from the Co-op. As we approached the intersection there was a late model Toyota in front of us. Even though the intersection was clear, the driver stopped for a long time, long enough, that I commented to my son, “what the heck is this guy doing.? He got out of his car, walked back to the driver’s side of my truck. My AC is out of coolant, so my window was down. As he approached my window he said, “I just wanted you to know, that’s the nicest truck rack I have ever seen.” 

My son chimed in…”I told you , you should sell’um.”

Here is the latest version, made from deadfall white ash.

When Rick’s son graduated from college, he bought his son a car as a graduation gift. A gently used Toyota Prius with 214,000 miles. His son was delighted.