Maple syrup, poutine, beer, hockey. Some of the things that come to mind when Canada is mentioned. I’ve heard it all. “You guys have igloos, eh?” “Aren’t you a lumberjack, eh?” Well, no, I’m not a lumberjack, I’m a sport truck enthusiast, and how the hell do you build an igloo? I don’t have the first idea, what I do know is how to build a sport truck, and more importantly, what makes a show stopping sport truck.
My name is Cody Kallis. I really haven’t had that much experience with hard core sport truckers. I have been to my fair share of local show and shine events while Ma and Pa sit beside one of dozens of old school original muscle cars. Truthfully I don’t know many people involved in the custom truck scene. I see a hot truck and I approach the owner and usually bs with them for a couple of minutes and I’m sure I leave them thinking, “Who was that guy?”.
My life is trucks. I can usually be found out in my garage with my dog Lowryder. iPod cranking out some tunes, flipping through a well read Truckin’, or wrenching on whatever my current project happens to be. When I was younger, (and in my prime) I worked at a couple of different auto body shops, mostly collision work, and fixing previously mentioned Ma and Pa’s farm truck.
I live in the sunniest city in Canada. Medicine Hat, Alberta. Alberta is Oil and Gas country. It’s what we do. Between war torn farm trucks, and skyjacked diesel burning oil patch trucks, lifted trucks are everywhere. It’s not uncommon to see a truck just driving down the street, mud, oil, and who knows what else caked on the custom paint. After all, lifted trucks are built that way for a reason.
Anyways, now that you have an idea of who I am, I will leave you with this. As I progress deeper into the sport truck culture of Western Canada I invite you to come along. Yes, there will be Maple Syrup, Poutine, lots of beer, hockey, and most likely more Family Guy references than you will care for. Just because it gets cold as balls in winter, and I probably sound goofy to most of you that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy some sweet ass customs together, eh?
That will be the only time I actually use “eh” in a sentence, enjoy it. Oh, and poutine is fries and gravy with cheese melted on top, it’s a French Canadian thing.