57th Annual Calgary World of Wheels

Photo by VelocityMotorsportsNews.com 57th Annual World of Wheels at BMO Centre Stampede Park

The World of Wheels has been my favorite car show & this year was no exception. Lots of antique, custom, muscle cars, Hot Rods, bikes, trucks, cool rides, race vehicles & saw old friends in Racing & Motorsports.

Photos by VelocityMotorsportsNews.com 57th Annual World of Wheels at BMO Centre Stampede Park

Edmonton International Raceway Booth

Photos by VelocityMotorsportsNews.com 57th Annual World of Wheels at BMO Centre Stampede Park

A Truck With A Soul
I had a chance to meet a nice young lady, Simone Burton who had a great story about her truck with a soul.

Photos by VelocityMotorsportsNews.com 57th Annual World of Wheels at BMO Centre Stampede Park

Big Blues Story

Some see an old truck as just metal and rust, but to me, Big Blue is family—a legacy that began before I was born.

My dad bought Big Blue in 1993 at 20 years old. It was more than just his first truck; it was his partner in adventure, his workhorse, and the constant companion through his youth. By the time I came along, Big Blue was already an old friend. Some of my earliest memories are sitting beside him, giggling as he dropped the clutch, the engine rumbling like a heartbeat.

In 2012, he had to sell Big Blue. It broke me—I had always dreamed of inheriting that truck. But fate had other plans, or so I thought. Years later, at 16, I started working for the man who had bought the truck. There he sat—lifeless, half-painted, forgotten. A few months into my job, the owner casually mentioned that he was planning to sell. I didn’t hesitate. I told him I wanted to buy the truck back, that I would keep working until I could afford him so I could give him back to my dad.

The day finally came: I took my dad to see Big Blue and told him, “Dad, I bought your truck back. Will you build it with me?”

His eyes filled with disbelief and excitement. Within minutes, he was on the phone, arranging a tow. I climbed into the passenger seat of the tow truck, my heart racing with excitement as we hauled Big Blue to the shop where his second life would begin. Together, we rebuilt Big Blue—long nights, dirty hands, and endless hours side by side. When we finally got him back on the road, it felt like reclaiming a piece of our family’s history.

That summer, my dad and I took turns driving him, reliving old memories and creating new ones. When graduation rolled around, my friends arrived in limos—but I arrived in Big Blue. And when my fiancé met my dad for the first time, it was while helping me remove Big Blue’s tow hooks. Every dent and scratch tells a story—a night stuck in a river, three blown engines, years of adventure and mischief.

People ask me why I pour so much time and money into an old truck, why I don’t just buy something new. But how many stories does a new truck have? Big Blue isn’t just metal and rubber—he’s a time capsule. He carried my dad through his youth, through love and heartbreak, through triumph and struggle. He got my dad into trouble and got him out of it too. The dent on the roof? That’s from my Uncle Derrek, who drunkenly crawled across it the night they got stuck in a river and my uncle floated away.

Big Blue isn’t just a truck. He’s a legacy. He’s proof that some things are worth holding onto, that history and heart mean more than horsepower and high-tech features. He bonded my dad and I in a way nothing else ever could. And one day, I hope to pass him down—to keep his story alive for the next generation. Because new trucks don’t have character. But Big Blue?
He has a soul.