Billy, you're on a roll!

With Brian and the 31 Chrysler coupe's single, I went from being paired with Tracy Grim's 442, to beside Larry Armstrong's Willy's pick-up, with Dale just one pair behind, at that point the brothers went into full launch of their plan. Boone was consulting with Dale, while Darren yanked my door open.
"We've been talking with PJ in the Falcon, and he's agreed to drive around you, so we can match you up with Dale", he explained.
"Darren!" I shoved my hands forward toward the windshield, "we are under the tower, and I'm only two sets from running!" "There isn't enough room to make this happen!"
"Hey!" He laughed and shook his head, "the Valiant and Falcon were compact cars in the early sixties, we'll get him to pull in the middle, then we'll guide you back, so he can pull in front of you!"
"We are already paired, and under the tower, we are twenty feet from the red line where you are supposed to be strapped in and ready for competition, and you want to attempt this now?"
"Relax", Darren instructed me, "this isn't a National event, and it isn't an elimination round." He slapped me on the shoulder, "the Gremlin is going to whip your butt, and the rest of us are going to have a front row seat for it!"
With that he shut my door and started guiding PJ Nadeau and the more door 60 Falcon to a spot between me and the Willy's.

PJ had been struggling mightily with his new turbo setup, so for him to agree to this little operation is a credit to him. It was tight quarters, but we pulled it off in the length of time it took BJ Bax and Larry Dixon to do their burnouts and stage up the pair of Novas.
I wasn't exactly looking forward to it, as I've been foot braking the Valiant so I can concentrate on getting on the nitrous at just the right time. It's a fine line between a slow sixty foot and a wheelstand, so I need to have the rpm right at the hit, and be ready on the button. That method is not conducive to a good light on a pro tree, which isn't a big deal since these are only time runs, but now I'm beside Dale, and he's going to be on the trans brake and he's going to kill the dang tree!

Dale did a massive burnout across the line while I did my little second gear only warmup, then I purged the nitrous into the engine a few times and rolled towards the beams. The 428 had sounded really crisp with the plug change, but I was nervous so I thought my way through what I needed to do.

"Listen. You are going to get treed, it's going to happen. You need to put the tach on 2800, and when you leave, be ready to grab the button twenty feet out. Not when the front end is safely back on the ground, that's too late. Not when you see the Gremlin leave on you, that's too early. Concentrate!"
"OK, we got this", I muttered into my helmet and lit the bottom bulb.

When you have experience racing on a pro tree, all your concentration is on letting go of the button, or getting to wide open throttle as fast as you can when you see the three ambers flash as one, but you train your mind to take a snapshot of the other car out of your peripheral vision the instant you feel your car react. It's important for you to know who got the tree and by how much when you are index racing, so that you can form a plan as to how to race the stripe. As soon as the Valiant's front end began to rise, my brain showed me the snapshot of the Gremlin, and it was a car out already.
"Oh good grief, that was ugly" I thought, but even as it registered, my thumb was planted on the nitrous button.
The front end was cresting to come back down when the small block wailed under the spell of the juice. The front end stayed up and torqued to the right as the Valiant accelerated through low gear and halted the Gremlin from pulling any further ahead. The tach light flashed in my eyes, and I slipped the Cheetah SCS back into second. The bottom of second felt wonderful as I concentrated on the Gremlin in front of us.
"You're reeling that monster back in! You wicked, wicked little minx, I love this small block!"
The Valiant was clawing back to the Gremlin's rear bumper when the shiftlight flashed again, and I put the 904 into Drive. The loss of gear multiplication halted our gains and the Gremlin even pulled back away in the last 200 feet.
"Wish I had a second kit for drive! Who am I joking? The shift light was on for the last 150 feet, the needle was past 7! You'd need a different converter, different gear...she's giving you all there is to give!
I pumped the brakes and started easing down in the shutdown area. Dale braked hard enough to get back even with me and we exchanged thumbs up salutes and then he took the exit in front of me.

I couldn't wait, I had to find the live feed re play on YouTube!

The Gateway time slip booth is all the way down the return road in front of the bleachers, then you turn left about even with the Christmas tree and exit into the front of the pits as you are handed the slip. Since we nearly always end up at the back end of the pits closer to the finish line and the circle track, I normally exit straight to the pits, park my car and walk down to pick up my slip, saving a half-mile of idling my car around at two hundred plus degrees. I decided since we were likely one and done today, I might as well follow Dale on the full tour. I saw Boone was staging the Ruster Duster in the left lane just as we drove by and pulled up to the little red shack. I Looked at the time slip and saw 9.43: "that must he his" went through my mind immediately, so I looked at the other side. 9.47 at 142.5, "no, we can't run that fast...OMG, the 9.43 is ours! We actually got down the track quicker than that 580 cubic inch monster!". I pulled my helmet, neck collar and gloves off as we idled back to our pits, then I patted the dash and let out a whoop, "Nine freakin' forty-three! Dang! Didn't know you had it in ya, old girl!" I followed Dale into our spot, and it was equally difficult for both of us to contain our emotions when the engines shut off and the doors opened.

"It might have looked like a good side by side race if you hadn't stole three tenths from me at the tree", I complained as we started to break down the slip.
"Lohnes said Dale's light was 'handily the best of the day, if not the whole week', if I remember his quote exactly", Rachael interjected.
"Well...I figured I might need all of it", Dale laughed.
"Did you see my eighth?" I pointed at the slip.
"I did notice that", Dale shook his head, "Congrats, you've got a five second car now!
"It was all set up by that sixty foot. My best was the 1.36 last year when it was on the bumper at Indy, so to go 1.33 and stay in the groove was awesome. Can't tell you how it felt though because I was too focused on that Gremlin out in front of me!"

Congrats on the awesome passes guys! So by Drag Week rules Billy won because he had the lower ET. By drag racing rules Dale won because he crossed the finish line first. Did you guys decide between you who won?

Dang dude, I know he is your Brother but three tenths head start is a little excessive, isn't it

The perfect way for it to end in a win-win and yet set up the next race!

No offence to Billy, but when your brother is in the other lane, Drag Week rules are out the window, and first to the finish line is all that matters. I'm guessing it is one pass neither will forget, and what makes Drag Week so special to the Gebharts.

By the way Billy, I have the same fondness for Gateway. LOVE racing there. Ran my first 9 second pass, in 2003, and fastest ET ever in the GTX back in 2004 at MMW. It was so much fun at those events.

What does the valiant weigh? That 428 is making some horsepower.

With him in it or me? LOL.

My take on it was...Dale beat me, but the Valiant drove off the grounds in possession of the quickest pass of our group for the second Drag Week day in a row, so I was fine with that! The Valiant goes 3100lbs. with me and a nitrous bottle on board.


While my light was horrible, Boone took it to a new level. He could hardly be blamed, as he was lined up with Robert Berry's 45 Chevy rat truck, and he was spooling his Cummins deisel with so much fervor, that he blacked out the tree to the point that Boone never saw it come down, literally.
The Ruster left great, but the popping started around 800 feet and persisted all the way to the finish line. The 9.97-137.25 was only four hundreds quicker than his 10.01 from day 1, but it might as well have been a half a second for the difference in Boone's demeanor.
"The track workers flagged me down at the scales", Boone laughed, "They told me I really needed to check my engine out before I tried another pass, because it was missing so bad when I went through the traps!"

The next pair in line behind Boone featured John Faraone's 72 Valiant Charger. With the news that Tom Bailey was out, John had already moved to second in the Unlimited class, and third overall if he could only repeat a pass close to his day 1 pace. The silver beast left incredibly well, and looked to be on a stellar run, but he clicked it at 1100ft. and the chutes were blossomed at the stripe. The 7.481 was only a tenth slower than Monday, but he scrubbed twenty MPH, down from 194 to 173.

Michelle would bring the Duster up two pairs later for a nice, smooth 11.26 at 121.5 that seemed to satisfy their hopes.
"Is that just all it has?" I asked Dale as the scoreboard lit up.
"No...not by a long shot...but it might be all it's got with a rookie tuner and a rookie driver trying to finish Drag Week, so as long as it keeps moving forward and putting down those numbers and they are happy, I'm happy."
Will walked over a few minutes later, and he wasn't happy.
"I've been talking to some of the other racers, and they tell me that at Byron you have to back into the burn-out box! What are we going to do with the Duster, do we need to look into the trans tonight?"
"Back into the burnout box?" I asked, "I've never heard that before".
"It's something new", Will explained, "Someone got hit by something flying out of the box, so they put up barriers to protect the cars and people behind them and that requires you to drive around then back up to the water."
"Listen", I decided to borrow Darren's phrase from earlier in the day, "It's not a National event, they'll be hosting street cars on their third track in three days with five hundred miles under their belt, so I'm sure leeway will be given."
"Yeah", Dale took up my train of thought, "She'll pull around the barrier, kick it in neutral, three of us will run out there and push it back in the water, and no one will say a word, guaranteed!"
"OK, if you guys say so, I just don't want her to get kicked out because of something like that", Will shook his head.
"Don't know why you're worried, she hasn't done a burnout all week", Bone interjected.
"Well, thank goodness you didn't say that in front of her", Will smiled, "I've been critiquing that very thing and she's pretty sensitive about it right now!"
After Will walked away, I gave Boone a slap on the back. "Dale and I are trying to save you, but if you want to be a joker maybe we should tell them to get it on stands. Then guess who is going to be on his back under that purple car for the next three hours!"
"Why does it matter to you?" Boone gave my shoulder a shove, "You and Rachael will be on the road to Byron in thirty minutes regardless of whether the rest of us are ready to move anyway!
"That's a fact right there!" Rachael exclaimed from the ground where she was installing the driver's side exhaust on the Valiant.
"Yep", I laughed, "call us the scout team this year...out in front, checking for danger!"
"Out in front, avoiding getting your hands dirty is more like it!" Dad piped in.

Rick brought the green 71 Dart under the tower, preparing for his first run of the day. He would have time to come back if anything went terribly wrong, but both he and Sharma were wore plum out, so I had a feeling that anything remotely representative would be good. The 11.53-115 was an improvement of two tenths and twelve mph over day 1 numbers, so they were ready to pack up and call it good.

With all of our runs done and completed, we headed to the tower to turn in our time slips, and get the route sheet for our drive to Byron. Even as we made our way up, we still had an ear to the PA, and an eye on the scoreboards, paying attention to the last forty minutes of track time left in the day. There weren't many people left that needed a last ditch effort to stay in class, or greatly improve upon a previous run, instead we were watching participants who were using multiple passes to chip away at their goal.
"Some of these guys are getting greedy!" Dale observed as we found the tower stairs.
"Yeah", I agreed, "hopefully it doesn't bite them later on down the line."

Earlier in the day Doc McEntire's Goodwin Hemi powered 68 Camaro had became the first naturally aspirated Drag Week entry to run in the sevens, with a stout 7.99-165. Chasing him in Pro Street NA was Steve Stanick's nasty sounding 68 Firebird in gray primer. We had watched them struggle to get the car through the first drive, apparently having as many charging issues as Boone was with the Duster, so we weren't surprised to see him staging the car this late in the afternoon. The Lohnes-Freiburger exchange had more than a few of us laughing as we marveled at how lucky we've been to have these two on the mics for the entirety of the event.
"Brian, I think you and I had the same reaction to this Firebird in the right hand lane, like, I don't know there's just something about it, it's wicked, it just has the right look..."
"Yeah, it's a roll it off the trailer in the middle of a corn field kinda Saturday night car and throw some money on the hood, because it's just angry looking...bar fighter type of stuff!"
You don't have to see the racing, they paint such a good picture", I commented.
"Very entertaining for sure", Boone laughed and shook his head.
The Firebird went 8.96-146 to maintain second place in the class, just a tenth ahead of third.

Five hours after they had pushed the 69 off the track with a broken rear, Lee Brooks and his bright yellow Satellite were once again staging in the Gateway starting beams. The 11.57-116.1 was an improvement over his day 1 lap, so we figured he was good to go. We would see him later with a tire and wheel off yet again, and he didn't make it to Byron however, so maybe all the problems weren't solved, or he just decided to limp it back to Cordova instead.
"Did you see Clark and his Dad?" Dale asked as we waited in line to give our slips to Tonya Turk.
"Yeah, Clark (Bad340fish/Moparts)and Bill (340Cuda/Moparts) made the trip from Tulsa, while Charley (mprhound/Moparts) and Bill(wyldebill/Moparts) made the trip from Texas. It was great to get to visit with all of them, but it was also clear that Drag Week has it's hooks in deep, so I expect all four of them to be back particpating again in the future!"
Boone handed his time slip to Tonya and she looked up at him and asked, "Are all the brothers still with us?"
"Nope", Boone replied, "Darren is out with the Charger again...he's brought that car five times and it hasn't finished once!"
Tonya shook her head, "Well...I'd say he needs to get a different car then, wouldn't you think?"
We all burst into laughter at that remark.

Can't speak for the Texans but Clark and I plan to be in Commerce GA the second week in September and he did get signed up.

Once again Tonya proves, with the possible exception of marrying Keith, she is a smart lady.

I was showing my checkpoint pictures to Tara Fling when Dennis Taylor began his burn out in the "Bad Rattitude" 55 Chevy Gasser. When he left Cordova, he was thirty-six hundredths down to Jarrad Scott's 62 Hemi powered Ranchero in A Gas. His daughter Alex lost her "Badmaro" on the first drive to valvetrain issues, so he and traveling buddy Clark Rosenstengel hadn't made it to the motel until daylight. Despite that, here he was, back at the starting line for his fourth pass of the day. He already had a stellar 8.80-156 in his pocket, that had gained back twenty-two hundredths on Scott, so I really didn't understand why he was still trying to make laps this late in the day. Like Scott's Hemichero and Finnegan's BlaspHemi 55, Taylor's Gasser features a big hp blown mill with a clutch and a stick. That combination makes the leave interesting, as they walk a fine line between blowing through the clutch or tires, and tossing the front end high in the air.
The ferocity and quickness with which the 55 rotated skyward on this particular run caused an audible group gasp from everyone in the tower. From our vantage point we could clearly see the trailer hitch dig into the track as the back tires cleared the ground as well. He lifted, which is all you can do at that point, and the front slammed down so hard on the leaf sprung straight axle that it tossed the nose up a good five feet on the first bounce and two or more on the second bounce. Dennis managed to bring the Chevy to a safe stop in his lane about 500 feet out, but both front tires were flat, a subsequent inspection revealed both wheels were ruined.
The tower room where we were turning in our time slips went from stunned silence to everyone talking loudly at once.
"He probably should've saved it for Byron", Dale spoke directly behind me.
"Yep", I agreed, "No amount of extra effort goes unpunished on Drag Week!"