Rachael drove right past our pits and straight back to the lanes. Seven minutes after she ran a too quick 11.41-114, she followed it up with a too quick 11.44 at only 97, completely off the gas for the last 300 feet! Now she was just abusing that poor 440, and we still didn't have a good number.

I staged the Valiant for my second run at 1:53 pm, and matted the throttle to put the small block against the 4K rev limiter. My right hand was inverted, palm out, with my thumb extended and pushing on the trans-brake button. When I released the button, my arm jerked up at the elbow as my hand rotated at the wrist, the end result of all this motion is that my hand ended up at side glass level, and it looked like I was giving the starter a thumbs up as I cleared the tree. The upward motion of my hand is mimicked by the front end of the Valiant, so I'm caught with my hand equal distance in the air from the shifter and the steering wheel. One side of my brain really wants both hands on the wheel while the other side knows we need to be on the shifter, and applying the nitrous. I located the shifter right before re-entry and grabbed the nitrous, then shifted to second. It pulled well through second, then started popping again in drive, but I ran it to the stripe anyway.
"It didn't feel like a nine", I thought to myself, " but it had to be better than the first run."
The time-slip read 10.22-130, which was a major disappointment, but I would have to sit down and dissect the intervals to figure out what was going on.

I sent Rachael back up when I arrived at our pit spot, but it was an anti-climactic finish to her day as she forgot to turn on the bottle and sputtered to a 13.06-93.

Dale and the Gremlin made their third attempt with just three minutes of track time remaining. He took my advice and rolled the timer for the the nitrous out a full second. The car left nice and straight and the transition to the bottle was smooth, even though it seemed to take forever. It was a nice, clean, straight run that lit up the board with a 9.18-155.

"Best MPH ever, for the Gremlin?" I asked Dad, and Boone as we stood at the fence.
"Pretty sure it was", Boone shrugged. "Did you ever put those sub-frame connectors in the Belvedere", Boone asked changing the subject.
"No", I smiled, "I had that set of Global West tubular ones forever, then I decided I wanted the laser cut US Car Tool ones that form fit along the floor board, so I ordered those, but haven't installed them yet."
"It's too late now...", Dad started laughing before he even finished his sentence.
"What do you mean?"
"You saw that 11.44 at only 97 Rachael ran", Boone questioned
"Yeah, but I just saw the score board, not the pass", I explained.
"She had that driver's side front tire just pawing at the air when she left!" Dad had his left hand a foot higher than his right to illustrate.
"Yeah", Boone agreed, nodding his head, "She had the old Plymouth twisted up like a pretzel!"
"How did that happen...it doesn't leave that hard."
"It does when she mashes that nitrous button at the hit", Boone laughed, "it was brutal!"
I hollered at Rachael to bring me her time slips, then thumbed through them until I found the run in question.
"1.549 sixty foot, good grief, she tried to kill it!"
"What is normal?" Dad asked, as he peered over my shoulder.
"Low 1.70's, occasionally a high 1.60 if she's on it quick, but this is ridiculous!"
"You should've drove it out the back Rach!" Boone laughed, "career best numbers right there!"
"It felt really good, I never get that many passes in a row, so I was just getting comfortable at the tree", she shrugged.
At my request, she brought me the log books from my satchel so I could crunch the numbers.
"OK, 7.029 at the eighth on that run. Her first run on DW15 she was late on the nitrous, but ran out the back door to an 11.41 at 122. That back half was 4.006, and the mph at the eighth was nearly identical. So it's perfectly reasonable to say the old girl could go 11.03-122 on a great pass!"
"But instead, you're turning in the first pass of the day that she made two hours ago", Boone shook his head.
Rachael shrugged, "I wanted to turn that one in and load up, but I guess Dad just wanted me to show him what the Belvedere was capable of!"