Fifteen minutes later, Boone pulled up in the Duster, and did a burnout across the starting line. He backed up to stage, then backed through the water box, parked next to the fence, and shut the engine off.
"What was that all about", Dad asked me as we were leaning against the fence to watch from our pit area.
"Not sure, but he never got out of the car, so it must be a problem with something inside."

My run had been a single, and Boone was staged by himself as well, but Dale pulled the Gremlin around beside Jeff Floyd and his 66 post Chevelle. We've known Jeff and his Dad, Gerald, for the better part of twenty years, since Gerald had ran his own machine shop and raced a 55 Chevy out of the same area we grew up in. They had been in constant contact with Dale, throughout the entire process of preparing for their own father/son adventure on Hot Rod Drag Week.
Dad and I hadn't expected a close race until half track, and we hadn't expected a smooth, non-violent leave for the Gremlin either, but that's what we watched. The board lit up 11.18-117 for the BB/NA Chevelle, and 10.13-140 for Dale in the Gremlin.
"What the heck was that?" Dad tossed his hands in the air.
"No nitrous, for some reason", I shook my head.
"That's all that 572 has?"
"That's all it has when it's running on 118 octane fuel, and the timing backed down! It left like a pig, and was rolling black smoke out from the eighth on, so it wasn't happy."

Boone pulled back into the water, and did a terrible burnout which barely rolled any smoke from the Hoosiers.

"Monte Smith relayed the story to us that this Duster was an old race car that the Gebharts sold off years ago, then it sat in a field for a long time until they had a chance to buy it back. They threw it together and here it is, with the field-borne nature of the car showing in those thin quarter-panels", Brian Lohnes announced.
"Yeah...those rusty quarters look like she has her skirt lifted up a bit, exposing some chassis!" David Freiburger added. These two make a bunch of street cars doing time runs way more entertaining than it would be otherwise.

The Duster pulled the driver's front tire, and made a small move towards the center line. Boone over-corrected to the point that he was out of the groove on the wall side before man-handling it back to the middle, he was late shifting to second, and early shifting to third. Yesterday it had popped and cracked from the moment he was on the bottle, this time it made it to eight hundred feet before it started mixing up cylinders, 10.13-130.
"So all three of you ran 10.13! Are we done?" Dad asked as we walked back over to our spot where Dale had just parked the Gremlin.
"Not by a long shot, Dad, the next twenty-five minutes of track time are about to get real interesting!"