The sound of rubbing tires, and the smell of superheated rubber was evident before we even made it two miles down the road. Rachael and I found a gas and convenience store 4 miles from the track, and pulled in, with Dale and James in the Gremlin, and Darren in the Charger behind us. Boone and Dad in the Barnyard, just motored right on by, blatantly ignoring us. After fueling up, and getting ice for the ice chests, I pulled over to a side parking lot, and started unloading everything from the trunk of the Satellite on the ground.
"What's up?", Darren walked over.
"Can't drive it like this, that passenger's side tire will be blown out in ten miles!" I pointed at the smear of molten rubber on the sidewall.
I had all the tools to pull the tire off, but the jack was in the Barnyard Viper, which was heading north down I-65 at the moment. So we handed Rachael the jack stand and the four of us muscled the B body into the air long enough for her to put it under the passenger's side rear frame rail. I just had the tire off, when the threesome of chevies we had left at the track pulled in to fuel up and be on their way.
I handed James my two pound sledge, and he made the necessary adjustments to the wheelwell, then we re-organized the load, and added some tire pressure. Dale led us onto I-65 North with the realization that we were the last Drag Weekers to leave Bowling Green, at least, out of those that were making out of Bowling Green!

The little AMC was surprisingly moving down the big road pretty good, and I was at 2900-3100 to keep up with him for the first 6 or 7 miles, then he backed it down to where I was 2700-3000. I could tell his converter didn't like the rolling hills though, as his speed would vary considerably.

Boone and Dad had found an Arby's just off the highway, so we ran about twenty miles, and then pulled over and had supper. We walked out into darkness, and decidedly cooler air, with the purpose of putting some miles behind us clearly on our minds.