By on March 22, 2011

Now that my ’66 Dodge A100 is back on the street, I find it pleasing that a Ford pickup of similar vintage lives in my Denver neighborhood.

This 42-year-old truck clearly gets used for real-world truck activities, proving once again that the vintage of a Detroit truck doesn’t matter as much as its ability to start, drive, and haul stuff every day.

A new ’69 F-100 Styleside with the long wheelbase listed at $2,430 for the base model with the 150-horsepower 240-cubic-inch six-cylinder engine and 3-speed manual transmission. That’s about $14,650 in 2011 bucks, a pretty good deal when you consider that the cheapest 2011 F-150 MSRP’s at north of 23 grand. Of course, today’s full-sized Ford pickup has more power and is way more comfortable, yet gets better fuel economy, but still: you can haul that big load of pork salivary glands and lymph nodes to your sausage factory just as well in either one!

With my van, this truck, and this ’51 Chevy pickup just around the corner, my neighborhood has vintage representatives from each of the Detroit Big Three. We’ve also got this mid-60s Land Rover Station Wagon and this Toyota FJ40 work truck rounding things out; all that’s missing are the elderly Jeep, Studebaker, and International Harvester trucks.

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18 Comments on “Down On The Mile High Street: 1969 Ford F-100...”

  • avatar
    Educator(of teachers)Dan

    proving once again that the vintage of a Detroit truck doesn’t matter as much as its ability to start, drive, and haul stuff every day.
    Absolutely.  I hope my 10th generation F150 is still doing that 40 years from now.  Wonder if I’ll still be able to buy gasoline or a reasonable substitute?

  • avatar

    I’ve always like the styling of that vintage Ford truck. Simple, but stylish, and still old-school. Back when trucks were trucks. Thanks for the pics!

    Murilee…you might enjoy looking at some of the strange Ford trucks that were produced in Brazil.  My favorite is the early 60’s Ford Truck “Sedan” with suicide doors!

    • 0 avatar

      It’s funny, but the first thing I thought of when I saw the ninth one down was Chevy Avalanche.
      This one for reference:
      Cool cars, er, trucks, er, um, crucks?

    • 0 avatar

      The suicide door “Suburban” is even better.

  • avatar

    I was standing beside a new Ranger the other day and it felt like it was about the same size as my ’69 F100.  It’s been 30 years so I may not be remembering it correctly…

  • avatar

    And men shook hands vice all the hugging and kissing nowadays.
    Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

  • avatar

    Obligatory reference. The joy of driving an old Ford pickup with a gruff six and three on the floor will be forever hard-wired into my brain’s pleasure center. Good, honest fun right there.
    K5ING: Those are some appealing little trucks. Cool find!

    • 0 avatar

      Thanks Ed.  It’s always amazed me that I haven’t seen more (any?) truck based cars.  Suburbans with trunks, if you will.  Trucks as personal vehicles really took off when cars were downsized (1977 or so).  That tells me that people didn’t want trucks as much as large, wide cars.  Making a truck with nice styling and a trunk seems like a natural.  I think the only customs I’ve seen along these lines were owned by the Sultan of Brunei or someone like that.

      BTW, I added another picture of a Mexican(?) Ford B-150 pickup based panel van. How come we never get stuff like that here?

    • 0 avatar

      It’s always amazed me that I haven’t seen more (any?) truck based cars.
      Lincoln Blackwood. It is, by any meaningful measure, a jumbo 4-door sedan based on F150 sheetmetal and chassis.

    • 0 avatar

      My ’66 F-100 recently encountered a kindred spirit:

    • 0 avatar

      Steve 65 — Naw… the Blackwood is nothing more than a pickup with a cover over the bed.  It still has a separate bed, and a tailgate (albeit a dutch-door one).  Look at those pictures again.  I’m talking about something with a proper trunk and sedan-like body work.

  • avatar

    I had a ’76 F-150 4×4 with a 360/4-speed for many years. Very similar under the skin to these trucks and damn near indestructible. I sold it with 189,000 miles on it and still running strong. I really wish I would have kept that truck, but I had nowhere to put it at the time.

  • avatar

    Nothing beats going to the parts house and announcing that you need a whatchamacallit for a 1963 Ford cab on a 1965 Ford chassis running a 1971 Chrysler power train. Man I luv them old trucks.

  • avatar

    Timeless design. And look– red body, white bumper, and blue fender… It’s friggin’ all-American!

  • avatar

    Yes, a modern F150 is 8 grand more than its 1969 counterpart (in adjusted dollars), and yes, the modern F-150 is arguably more vehicle- more power, more comfort, more towing/ hauling capacity.  But what your 14,650 2011 dollars bought you in 1969 was a truck that was good for 40 years.  I have a really, really hard time seeing any 2011 model year trucks still being used in 2051…gasoline supplies notwithstanding.  But I’d bet at least a dollar that there will be one or two of these antedilluvian 60’s workhorses still plodding to the garden center and back- probably converted to some bread truck diesel engine or something and running on fryer grease at that point! 

  • avatar

    When I was in the air force, we didn’t have Jeeps, but we had lots of Chevy C10 short bed stepside pickup trucks everywhere. Those were cuter than any other truck out there. All were 6 cyl. stick shift. Also a few Dodge Power Wagons and AMC full-size sedans and wagons. MM, are any of those odd-looking late 60’s-early 70’s Dodge pickups around? Those were weird.

  • avatar

    I get to write about my F-150 I had while living in small town Kansas!

    I loved that truck! It had a three speed manual and a simple hose-able interior. No carpeting – just a big rubber mat. The only thing I had to tend with was replacing the radiator hose. A little six cylinder engine. The truck rattled where the rust had loosened up something or other, but never rattled enough to be distracting. I lived forty miles from the nearest big box stores, hospitals and cops. I would leave the keys in it with the doors unlocked and the windows down. On beautiful sunny summer mornings when I had to go to town, I would gas up at the Co-Op, and ramble down the farm roads over the single railroad track and point that little red truck straight east. I had to wear sun glasses, a sleeveless t-shirt with the sides ripped open and wearing 501’s over cowboy farm boots. The hawks would fly overhead in a lazy circle enjoying the updrafts coming off the spring green wheat fields. No trees, except for the shelter belts on the horizons planted during the Dust Bowl years. The windows were down and the wind would flood the metalic interior of that little red truck, sweeping out the cigarette smoke, tickling my skin under my shirt, yanking at my chin stubble and whipping my hair around.

    There is no traffic out there. You can drive however you wish, no one cares. It is just you and your little truck and the empty Kansas horizons. After growing up in Chicago and racing around Denver in that rat race, driving in Kansas is like a happy beer buzz. Complete relaxation. It felt like I had retired at 20 years of age. I didn’t have much money, but I had enough to pay rent on an old farmhouse, keep the F-150 on the road, and pay for a beer run with my buddies.

    Then there was the truck bed. I hauled garbage in it when I had to every week or so. There would be beef jerky wrappers lodged up against the cab and empty High Life cans and an empty Marlboro pack or two. I hauled anything that fit into it. I had two horses so I used the bed to haul my tack, saddles and feed. I put whatever tires I could find on it and tossed an extra into the bed when one of the tires failed me. I washed it when I had nothing else to do, or if it started to stink from anything that leaked and rotted in the bed. In return, the little F-150 just kept running without complaints.

    Every man needs a truck because our society demands that men do stuff. We are supposed to lift, haul, sweat, mow, get sunburned, pull muscles, help others and satisfy the ladies too. A truck is the vehicular tool for men who do stuff. Consequently, trucks are too high, too thirsty, too big, too overpowered, too rough, too much, and often ramble around empty except for empty snack wrappers, cigarette butts, empty cans and old farts.

    Trucks are just like us. That is why we love them.

  • avatar

    When trucks acturally did something other than be pampered by their owners so they can clog mall parking lots.

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