Billy with you guys smiling ear to ear like that people might get the wrong idea and think you guys were having fun or something.

I was walking towards the Charger, when Dale's little generator starting noticeably dropping rpm. I could clearly see it from my vantage point, and it was beginning to pump blue smoke out of the crankcase ventilation tube before it finally sputtered and died.
Darren, Dale and Boone turned away from their respective work in unison, and looked at me and the generator.
"Did it run out of gas?"
I shook my head, "I think it just burned up...it was smoking right before it shut down!"
"Naw...put gas in it", Dale assured me, "I've had that thing forever and it's never gave me a lick of trouble!"
I did as he instructed, and it fired to life with a full tank of fuel and sounded fine for about three minutes, then it started pushing out smoke again and slowly died.
Boone had a look of terror on his face, "How am I supposed to charge my batteries now if the alternator doesn't keep up?"
"Not with that", I pointed, "That thing is toast!"
Dale walked over to fiddle with it, but I had spilled a little gas on my hands so I decided to walk back down to the bathroom and clean up before we hit the road. I walked by the track equipment garage on the way back and overheard the track workers talking about locking up within the next hour so they could get home and I relayed that info to the guys when I got back to our pits. The brothers seemed unaffected by the news but fifteen minutes later Pops was tossing stuff in Darren's Charger and muttering under his breath, clearly agitated.
"Dad, what are you doing?" Darren asked incredulously, peering out from under the hood.
"Didn't you hear Dave?" He tossed his hands in the air and spat, "we need to get moving, we can mess with the rest of this crap later!" "Do you want to get locked in, do you want to be here after dark if they turn off the lights?"
Boone walked over and whispered at me, "Happy now?"
"What the heck, I didn't expect..."
"You didn't think...period! He's tired, stressed, and you just got him all riled up for nothing!"
"Tired? He took a three hour nap on the cot today!"
"He's old! Dang it Dave, how many times do I have to explain it to you?"

The end result was that Darren placated Dad, and the Charger rolled out of the Cordova Dragway gate a scant thirty minutes later. I shrugged at Boone and Dale, who were still finishing up the Duster.
"Follow them", Dale instructed, "we'll be along shortly, and they are more likely to need your help than we are."

We drove three miles south to Cordova Township and made a left turn into the huge gravel parking lot of the Great River Mart and Shell station. There were probably nine or ten Drag Week vehicles on the property including the Charger, and we eased into a pump next to Mike Karl's blue 68 Nova. Darren fired up the Charger and moved it over to the side of the convenience store while I started pumping 91 into the cell of the Valiant.
Dad walked over to me and asked if I could take him back to the track to get Darren's truck.
"What?" I was startled by the request, wondering if he was just ready to give up, or if there was a real problem.
"Darren says the Charger is done! He doesn't like a sound it's making...so I want to get back and get the truck and trailer before they lock up."
"Okay" I paused, "Give me a second and we'll figure it out."
I walked over with him to the Charger and Darren was already on the phone with Dale, going over a list of problems. "It's rattling like crazy, I've got rubber all over the quarter where one tire is rubbing with all the weight in the car, the battery is junk, it barely started at the pump..."
I walked back over to my pump, convinced that Darren really was ready to call it over for him and the Charger. I happened to notice that the man on the next pump with a U-Haul box truck and car trailer was none other than Mike Grandinetti, who's Pontiac Firebird had lost a motor on the top end earlier in the day.
"Going back to get your car Mike?" I asked.
"Yeah", he shook his head, "This is going to be an expensive trip since I had to rent this to get home."
"You drove the car here?"
"Yeah, it's a street car right?"
"You think you could give my Dad a lift back to the track? I think my brother is done, so he needs to get their truck and trailer as well."
"Sure", he smiled, "I'm going to need help loading mine anyway."
I got Dad and sent him off, then parked my Valiant on the far end of the lot so I wasn't blocking any pumps. I quickly found myself in a conversation with the Aussies from Street Machine magazine who were covering the event, until Dale and Boone finally arrived with the Gremlin and the Duster.

After fueling up both cars, Boone and Dale parked next to Darren and both started going over a checklist of his complaints. Rachael made herself busy by filling each vehicle's cooler with drinks and ice, roping in little Billy as her helper. I walked over a few minutes later to overhear Dale and Darren discussing the need to run the valves.
"He's ran the valves four times since he first fired it on Friday", I tossed my hands in the air, "that's more times than I've had the valve covers off the small block since it was built!"
Boone looked at me, then asked where Dad was at.
"I haven't seen him since we pulled up, now that you mention it", Dale agreed.
"I got him a ride back to the track so he could get Darren's truck and trailer out of impound", I explained.
I was met by a chorus of "What?", while all three of them spun towards me like I was threatening them with a weapon.
"Listen, Darren told Pops he was done, he told me he was done and I heard him tell you on the phone he was done! So Dad went for the truck before they messed around and ended up locked out!"
Jeffrey Lutz had his twin turbo SBC powered Honda parked about fifty feet from us with the front end off and ten people standing around it. They fired it for a few seconds but his Dad quickly gave him the cut-off sign.
"That thing", Dale pointed with a sardonic smile toying at the corners of his mouth, "is done...but this Charger is far from it!" He put Boone to calling Dad, then started ordering Dylan and Darren to bring him tools.
Disgusted, I walked over to the Valiant to help Rachael lift our cooler up between the seats and over the shoulder bar, nestling it on top of our clothes bags.
"What are you thinking?" She looked at me then back at the bustle around the Charger.
"I'm thinking I don't want to arrive at the first motel after sun-up! I'm thinking I don't want to sit around here for five hours only to have Darren throw in the towel anyway!"
"Well then, let's just go. You are the one who writes the story, so if you're a jerk who abandons his brothers at their time of need, I'm sure you can make it sound like you were in the right all along!"
"Now you sound like Darren! Always complaining that my stories are complete fabrication!"
"Just pointing out the obvious", she laughed.

Ten minutes later, I was let off the hook when Dale answered a phone call from Rick and Sharma. He turned to me and explained, "they are broke down about thirty-five miles up the road, so perhaps you and Rachael should go ahead and check on them."
"What's the problem?" I asked, hopeful it would be an easy fix.
"He thinks the converter bolts loosened up...it has a rattle when he lets off the gas. They are in the first rest area on I-74."
I jumped in the Valiant and headed south on Il-84 before someone in my family changed their mind. It was still fairly warm and muggy as the afternoon sun was hanging on, and traffic on the little two lane that meanders along the Mississippi was at it's Monday evening peak. The result was the temp gauge started north of 200 fairly quick, and I pulled over at a small car wash fifteen miles later.
We had passed by Alex and Dennis Taylors' cars parked at a gas station, where they were apparently helping Clark Rosenstengal with his 2010 7 second twin turbo Camaro. Clark drove by a few minutes later, and it sounded like the LSX was idling on six cylinders. He turned around and headed back to the group. Fifteen minutes later they all drove by and the Camaro sounded fine, so someone must've made the right keystrokes to get the electronic injection to cooperate with his street tuneup!

Rachel said

Now that is rich, Billy!

This picture is SO RIDICULOUS! (and I mean that in a good way!)

Once we jumped out on I-74, with less traffic to contend with and the sun steadily dropping from view, the temp gauge stabilized at 205 and I began to settle in for the long drive. I love the look of my recessed Quick Latch minis that hold down the four corners of the hood, but they are fragile, and if you slam them around too much the receivers will fail. When the tach hit 3 grand, the back of the hood on my side popped up.
"What's that all about?" Rachael asked, looking up from our phones. She had set up google maps on my phone to follow the course live, then she had the Drag Weekers Facebook page, and our group text going on hers. The 55 year old cigarette lighter was dutifully supplying power to both.
"I missed the back pins at that car wash earlier, and I heard that receiver make a weird noise, so I must've broke the spring in it", I explained. "I'll have to replace it when we get the chance!"

Twenty miles later, we drove into the rest area Dale had described and found Rick lying on a piece of cardboard under his green Dart, while Sharma was working under the hood.
"What's the prognosis?" I asked from my knees, bent down low to see what he was doing under the car.
"Well, we didn't get lucky, the converter bolts were nice and tight", Rick smiled through the obvious fatigue.
"Well, crap!"
"Exactly! It was the crank bolts, so we had to back the transmission out to get on them."
"No small feat on a big block A body with a 727", I shook my head.
"We had to pull the header on this side just to get the engine to drop down enough to get it back", Sharma explained.
Watching them work together over the next twenty minutes, I was able to understand how they managed to take this car from a 318 driver to a big block 11 second machine in little more than a week. They worked together seamlessly, no drama, no wasted motion, a great team. It was clear that holding flashlights and handing them tools was about the extent of help Rachael and I would be able to offer to make the job go any quicker.
I excused myself a little later and changed out the quick latch on my hood while we were there. By the time I finished up the last of the useable sunlight was quickly disappearing.

I was digging through the trunk of the Valiant to find my torque wrench and some thread locker when I heard the unmistakable whine of a roots blown engine making it's way toward us up the off-ramp. It didn't sound very healthy, however, as it strained to come up the hill, misfiring, coughing and wheezing as the car came into view. It was first time Drag Weeker Hilbert Osborne and his impressive silver and black 55 210 Chevy. The air scoop on top of the twin Holleys mimicked the look of a modern Top Fuel style injector hat, and was visually stunning on a street car. The Pro Street 55 drew a ton of attention on Registration day, but I thought it was odd when he signed up for Street Machine Eliminator, as it appeared much faster than a 10.0 car.
Not to disappoint, Hilbert's first pass on Monday had been in the 9.50 range at 140+! A second attempt saw him lift at a thousand feet, and still run 9.80 at 128. Late in the day he managed a third attempt, but the blown big block seemed to lay over at the 330' foot mark, and he just eased down to a 12.59-82 mph pass.
At the time, I figured it was just an over cautious driver wanting to make sure he had a safe pass to turn in, but listening to the machine struggle into the rest area, I began to think that pass may have foretold of deeper issues. A modern Ford pick-up trailed close behind, and pulled alongside as they shut the big Chevy off. I didn't know if it was their designated chase truck, or just one of the many people who happen to stop and help when they see a Drag Week car with issues. I tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt when it comes to those situations.

I handed Rick my thread locker, and held the flashlight as he torqued the flexplate bolts in a star pattern.
At that point Rick and Sharma assured us that with things going back together, Rachael and I should go ahead and get on the road.
"It's like you explained earlier", Rick slapped me on the back, "leapfrog...you go on ahead, and hopefully your brothers will be along shortly".
Rachael and I were re-arranging the contents of the Valiant when the Ford pick-up which had been following the 55 drove over and parked next to us. A slightly built gentleman who appeared to be in his mid sixties got out and asked us if everything was going OK with our car. I explained our situation and asked him about the 55.
"They've had the carbs apart twice since we left the track, and it runs fine for ten or fifteen miles then starts acting up. Don't know if it's bad gas, or junk in the tank, but they just threw in the towel and called a roll-back to pick them up".
"That's no good, I hate to see that happen so early on."
"Yeah...I was going to follow along and help them out if they needed it, but that's done, so I was hoping I could tag up with you guys now...if you don't mind?"
"That's fine with me", I explained. "Are you doing the whole week or what?"
"Yeah, I preregistered, and had plans of bringing my Vega this year, but I've went through a pretty extensive chemo treatment, and just didn't have the energy to finish it."
"Dang! I'm sorry to hear that!"
He smiled and shook his head, "Hopefully my battle with the big C is behind me, and my wife implored me to go ahead and take the vacation time and enjoy the event, if only as a spectator."
"Hard to do when you're a racer!"
He chuckled and his eyes lit up, "Exactly...that's why I want to follow along with some cars, follow the route and see what everyone is going through...at least feel like I've got some skin in the game on this half of it, at least."
"Honestly, the drives are more than half", I smiled, "the street is where Drag Weeks are made or broken!"
"I'm quickly beginning to see that!" He laughed again, and we jumped in our respective vehicles to forge ahead.
"Who was he?" Rachael asked as we dove back onto I-74 with the lights of the Ford a couple of hundred feet behind us.
"I don't know...we shook hands, but never exchanged names", I explained.
"That's rather odd", she shook her head.
"Not on Drag Week!" I laughed, as the tach needle settled on three grand.

Thirty miles later, we followed the directions into Galesburg Illinois, for Drag Week 2017 Checkpoint #1, a drive-in theatre. I'm always surprised when we've been driving along without another drag week car in sight, then pull into a packed parking lot at a checkpoint. This was the case at the drive-in, with at least fifteen participants parked on the dirt drive or the grass around the marquee sign. We shot the pictures that would be needed for time slip turn in the following day, and prepared to get moving again.
"It's already 7:40, and we have a hundred and eighty miles left to the hotel, so I don't see us arriving before midnight...again!"
"We need to start setting a target for two AM", she laughed,"we've made it before midnight like once in the last three years!"
I made a right out of the parking lot and quickly shifted into second gear.
"We were supposed to go back the way we came!" Rachael exclaimed, holding her phone up with the google map towards me.
"I read the sheet", I shook my head, but pulled over and fished out a flashlight so we could double check, "it said 'right on US-34'!"
"Nope", she gleefully pointed out my mistake, "it says 'back to route-left on Main St.', you skipped a line!"

We found our way back to US-34, then onto US-67 South ten miles later. This was a divided 4 lane, but had quite a few more curves than the previous interstate, and I wasn't happy at all with the way the Valiant was driving. It seemed to be wallowing around on the rear suspension, and I was constantly making corrections with the wheel to keep up with it. I blamed it on the excess weight we had stuffed behind the seats this year, but I decided not to let Rachael drive until I figured it out.
She had been keeping me up to date via the group text as to everyone else's progress. After buying a new battery for the Charger, and running the valves, Darren convinced himself that the engine was still making a noise, and gave up. Dale didn't have the energy left to argue with him, so Dad and Darren would be cruising in the Ram R/T.
"So that's three hours for nothing!" I exclaimed, "they will never learn."
We appeared to be gaining on The Heaths, who had left considerably earlier than we had, because they were stopping for drinks, and had hung out quite a while at the checkpoint.
"Rookies!" I shook my head when Rachael gave me the news.
I tend to get the bit between my teeth, and hate to stop once we get rolling, so I decided to extend our gas stop out to a town that would put us around a hundred and ten miles in. The speed limit had already dropped to 45 mph as we entered Macomb. The north end of town was rolling hills, golf courses, a country club and Western Illinois University. We had just crested one of those hills when the 428 sputtered and the Volumax fuel pump changed pitch.
"Crap! We are running out of gas! How far to the next station?"
"Three miles, a Conoco on the right", Rachael explained.
I shook the car left to right, pumped the gas a few times and brought the speed back up to 55 or 60.
"We should make it if we catch all the lights just fine!"
I blew through the next green light just in time to notice a "City of Macomb" cruiser about to make right hand turn onto US-67. He was in pursuit with lights and siren before I made it another block.
"I hope he knows I'm not stopping until I'm pulled up to a pump!"
"You sure know how to make friends!" Rachael tossed her hands up, and sunk a little lower in her seat.

Then what happened? You better not keep us waiting too long on this cliffhanger!

To our surprise Will, Michelle and Derek were at the pumps when Rachael and I coasted in, Officer in tow. The looks on their faces were priceless as they stared back at our situation, wide eyed, and their lower jaws hanging down. I opened the driver's door, but made no attempt to get out and left my hands on the top of the wheel in plain sight.
I can remember back in my youth, that each of these stops seemed to present me a grizzled old veteran cop who usually had a line which included the word "Son", and the quip "why were you in such a hurry?" These days I'm the old graybeard and the officers always seem to be fresh face kids who give me more deference than I likely deserve.
To my relief, this was the case, as the face that bent down to look in the car could have been straight out of high school if I had to guess.
"How are you two doing tonight?" He asked casually, then paused.
"Pretty good", I jumped in, "listen, the reason I didn't pull over immediately is that we are completely out of gas and I had to coast in here!"
"That's understandable", he smiled coolly, "The reason I pulled you over is that you have no taillights." He broke into a big grin for his next line, "the brake lights are nice and bright though, I saw plenty of them when you saw my police car!"
"Yeah", I chuckled, "I've got my headlights and interior lights on this race panel up here." I pointed and his eyes followed my hand, "but the taillights are still on the factory switch and I must've forgot to turn it on when we left our last stop." I pulled the park lights on and he checked the back of the car, "yeah...that was it, you be careful and have a safe trip sir!"
"Thanks Officer", I returned as I crawled out of the Valiant. He simply got back in his car and left the lot as I opened the trunk to begin fueling.
Our new buddy in the Ford had parked on the side of the station and walked over with a big smile, "You ran away from me when we hit that 45 zone, then when I saw the red and blue lights come on, I knew you'd garnered some unwanted attention."
I explained what happened to him, and he shook his head, "Rather be lucky than good, I suppose!"

Michelle came over a few minutes later and explained to me that she would like to exchange co-drivers. "Willie really wants to ride in your Valiant, and I really want to get rid of him for a little while, he's getting on my nerves!"
"Sure", I shrugged, "If Rachael doesn't mind, I certainly don't."

It was only thirty-eight more miles to checkpoint #2, and Will and I found plenty to talk about, so it went by pretty quick. He was impressed by how much quieter the Valiant was inside than the Duster seemed to be.
"We've been wearing ear muffs over there, and texting each other", he explained with a laugh, "normal conversation is just too difficult!"
"I've got the entire floor done in dynomat under the carpet", I explained, "and with the fenderwell headers and the mufflers towards the outside of the car, it's not too bad".
We came to a stoplight about five miles from the checkpoint and I rolled up to 3 grand in low, then hammered it. The front end topped out on the shocks and I clicked it into second at 7, then stayed in it a couple hundred feet before lifting and shifting to drive. Will had a big grin and his eyes were wide, "that front end bounces up quick, and it rips nice and clean...even on pump gas through the mufflers!"
"That's kind of the whole point of having a street car", I laughed. "If you have to drive it on egg shells when you aren't uncorked or have C-12 in the tank, you're missing out on half the fun!"

Checkpoint #2 was a large IGA grocery store.
"The checkpoints are kinda boring this year, and so are the routes!" Rachael complained, when she started moving her stuff back over to the Valiant. "I told Michelle they were missing out, since there aren't nearly as many switchbacks and tiny roads with turn after turn this year".
"Well, it's kinda tough to stop at a little hole in the wall checkpoint, now that we have 400 entries, and I'm sure the simpler routes have something to do with setting them up to use google maps!"
We were shooting our pictures when the driver of the Ford walked up, shoulders slightly slumped. "Man, I think I'm going to cut you guys loose", he explained, "I'm just wore plum out, so I think I'm going to enter the address to my hotel and take the quickest route there!"
"That's cool, I wish we could do the same thing, it's been a long day", I laughed. "But we'll see you tomorrow at the track, right?"
Definitely", he smiled, "I'll look you guys up for sure!"
He turned away then came back. "I'd feel guilty if something happened, so I'm just going to say it, that Valiant seems to walk around a bunch on the rear suspension. Are you sure everything is tight under there? Is it a diagonal link, panhard bar, or wishbone?"
"It's a diagonal link...and I just had it all apart, so I know it's tight, but I feel it. We have more weight in the car this year, so maybe I need to put a few extra clicks in the shocks? I appreciate you pointing it out though!"
"Well, be careful out there", he smiled and headed back to his truck.

Will, Michelle and Derek decided they were going to stop at the convenience store across the street to get more snacks and use the bathroom.
"Rachael and I are going to keep rolling", I explained.
Once we were back in the car, I looked at Rachael. "How do they make any miles stopping constantly?"
"They don't...it would drive me crazy!"
I was glad she agreed with me, it was 9:45 pm and we still had a hundred miles to cover.

Posting on 3-18. very appropriate my small block brother!

Ran into John Ens mechanic for Dave Schroeder yesterday, it was the first time I have seen him without a set of push rods and rockers in his hands for awhile. We had some good laughs about the driving directions they give you at drag week to get from track to track.
The Vette is in Winnipeg and they are getting it ready for this years race, hopefully they make it 2 in a row.

US-67 South was a dark lonely road out of Beardstown, and I was nodding off by the time we made thirty miles. Rachael wasn't happy with that development, and begged me to let her drive.
"Just find me a c-store where I can get some killer coffee, and I'll be fine", I explained.
"Twenty miles up the road, there is a Casey's in a little town called White Hall. That will put us at 88 miles on this tank, so we might as well fuel up too."
She had to bump me four or five times to keep my head up, but we arrived safe and sound.

There was a trio of Canadian Drag Weekers down at the end of the lot, so I walked down to see what they were up to.
Matt Blasco looked up from the Dirty Drag Week Dart and smiled, "Are you stalking me?"
"Yeah...maybe! how's it going for you guys?"

Joining Matt was Rich Guido, who's stunning black 65 GTO features a 517 inch Poncho, running through a T-56 stick. While Rich's love for the big inch Pontiac has been unwavering, his relationship with the pro-charger has been an on again off again affair. He's ran the car NA two drag Weeks, and with the belt driven supercharger twice. His opening shot on Drag Week 2017 had been a stunning 9.99 at an unreal 144 mph, a pass that was 5 tenths quicker than the car had been in previous years, so the boost was finally paying dividends. The third Canadian was Drag Week rookie Pat Myker, who's radical 67 Chevelle is powered by a pro-charged 540 BBC, through a lenco, with the largest amount of "stuff" ever strapped to a roof rack in Drag Week history!

Matt explained to me that Pat's car was the reason they had spent so much time at this particular stop.
"He killed the battery, it wouldn't do anything. So Rich and I start trying to locate a replacement, but all these small towns around here roll up the sidewalks at 6pm, so nothing's open. (White Hall, pop. 2300, Roodhouse, pop. 1600, for reference) When we realize no stores are open where we can buy a battery within forty miles, we got desperate and started going door to door to see if any of the residents had a spare they'd be willing to part with!"
I shook my head, "That sounds sketchy even to me, it's a wonder you didn't end up with trousers full of buckshot!"
Matt laughed, "It was crazy, but we got lucky and found a toothless old fellow who was willing to let us buy the battery out of his Jeep on the side of the house for twenty bucks!"
"And it's going to work?"
"Yeah, we test fired it a while ago, so as soon as he gets everything strapped back down we'll be back on the road!"

Rachael had finished filling up the Valiant, so I excused myself and went in the store for a 24 oz coffee/hot chocolate and several snacks. We waved goodbye and drove back out on US67 a few minutes later.
I handed Rachael the confirmation sheet for our hotel and asked her to enter that as our finish point instead of the track.
"How many miles to go?"
After a few minutes she replied, "58 miles to the parking lot!"
"I can do that, no problem", I assured her.
We had passed through another small town, Carrollton Il., when I noticed headlights catching up to us fairly quick from behind. We had pretty much been the only car on the road since we left the Casey's. Rich, Matt and Pat blew by us a mile later at easily 15 mph faster than our pace!
Rachael held her hands up and glared at me, "but you always say you don't need a gear vendors!"
"I don't...we'll get there, eventually!

It was 12:15 when we took the back road off of I-255 to get to the hotel parking lot. We were about two blocks away when I looked over to see Tom Bailey and Sick Seconds 2.0 in a huge parking lot with the front end off the car. Typically when the big hitters are preparing for a major thrash they tend to try and find just such a location away from prying eyes where they have plenty of room to work.
"That doesn't look good", I pointed it out to Rachael.
"Nope, not at all", she agreed, "going to be a long night for them!"

Top pic: What do these two cars have in common? Both have been over 140 in the quarter...just let that sink in!
Bottom pic: Happy to still be rolling!

"We just left the second checkpoint", Boone explained, "we spent quite a bit of time there trying to get some juice in the Duster's batteries."
I had taken my shower already, and decided to call them before I went to sleep so I could give them directions to the hotel, and our room numbers.
"Good grief, you still got a long pull then, is the alternator situation still a problem?"
"It's worse than last year. I don't know if the batteries are toast, or if the alternator is failing, but it won't keep up even with the cooling fans turned off!"
"Great! Did Rick and Sharma get the Dart back together?"
"Yeah, they are running with us".
"OK, just call me when you get close, and I'll bring down the card to the other room and talk you guys in".


Tuesday Day 2, Gateway Motorsports Park
I fell asleep within a few seconds after talking with Boone, and was completely unconscious until my work alarm went off at 6:00 am. I scrambled to reach my phone and looked around stunned to see the first hint of dawn coming through the window.
"Why were Rachael and I the only two still in the room? Why hasn't Boone or Dale called me? Have I slept through their attempts?"
I sat up and went through my phone...no new calls. I re-dialed Boone, and he answered, explaining they were still eight miles out.
If they still had Rick and Sharma in tow, they would need a place to sleep if only for an hour or two, so I jumped up and took a quick shower, then got Rachael up and around. By the time the eight of them arrived, we were ready to go, so we did what we could to get them all situated, then carried our bags down and took part in the continental breakfast.
"Was that your brothers just arriving?" A slender man in a Drag Week t-shirt asked us from a nearby table.
"Yeah, they had a long night!"
"That's going to make for another great story, I can't wait to read this year's edition", he laughed.
"Thanks...Drag Week always provides the drama!"

"Who was that?" Rachael asked me, as we arranged our bags in the Valiant.
"I don't have a clue!" I shrugged.
"But he knows all about us."
"Yeah, and after all this time, that still catches me off guard...I don't think I'll ever get used to it!"

With the number of times we've raced at Gateway, and stayed in Collinsville, we know our way around the area pretty good, so Rachael and I stopped at Wal-Mart to load up on ice and supplies before heading to the track. We ran into Tonya Turk and Tara Fling doing the same thing and were reminded that the Drag Week staff puts in long days at this event as well. We still rolled through the gate before cars had even started running, which is like a record for us on the second day. I decided to use the time to go over the car, and change the plugs, which had been in since day 3 of Drag Week last year.
Will, Michelle and Derek pitted beside us just as I had finished one side of the engine.
"Do you now what happened to Rick and Sharma?" Will asked, "they were supposed to share our motel room, but we never heard from them."
"They arrived at our motel, along with the brothers, about an hour ago", I explained.
He let out a low whistle, "They are going to be dead tired when we hit the road this afternoon!"
"Yeah, for sure, but we have to get our runs in first", I smiled, "one hurdle at a time!"

Its amazing that Richard drives his Goat from Canada,competes and drives it back home.Last year he did DW and RMRW both.He is the Canadian Chuck Norris.

Texans John Dodson and Jason Doisher were once again the first pair down the track. Jason's Marquis wagon put down a nice 8.54, but John's Malibu blew the radials off hard and he had to pedal. The fourth pair down saw Danny Allen's radial equipped twin turbo LS powered 65 Nova wagon blow the tires off and nearly get to the center stripe before he gathered it under control. James Karger's small tire fox body suffered the same fate two pairs later.
I looked up at Rachael, who I was teaching to gap plugs and shook my head. "I don't understand why these guys rush up there to be the first down a green track on a cool overcast morning like this. The track is going to have teeth today, but let the slower guys put some heat in it first!"
"Yeah, 'cause you're mister radial track prep expert", She quipped.
"Nope", I chuckled, "just an old Super Street racer who knows the value of being 5 or 10 sets back in line so you can get the lay of the land!"
Two pairs later Curt Johnson's small tire notch Mustang laid down a nice 8.85, and was followed up by Scott Klepinger's third gen Camaro on a super straight 8.30-166.
"See there", I pointed at the scoreboard, "now the track is coming around...ten sets in, just like I said!"
"Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while, right?" She laughed, and handed me the next plug.

The next ten pairs down the track was pretty much loaded with Mopars. The small block A-body contingent, featuring Corey Pant's 74 Duster, Marty Gorman's 72 Scamp, and a pair of black Darts, a 68 for Rod Munchiando and a 69 for Ron Maguire, all made nice clean runs comparable to what they turned in on Monday, so it appeared they could be one and done if they so chose.
Things didn't go as planned however for Lee Brooks and his 69 Satellite. A loud pop was heard at about thirty feet out and the car made a move to the wall. He expertly lifted and guided the car to a stop next to the wall, but it was clear something in the rear wasn't happy. The passenger's side rear tire looked awry, like there was a broken axle, but when they tried to push the car backwards it would bang and lock up, like a broken ring and pinion gear.
"At least he has time to fix it and make another run", Rachael commented, "unlike us if something bad happens, since you seem to be determined to wait until the last session every day!"
"Point made, little lady, but I'll live by the sword and die by the sword...it's all I know!"

"A slender man"

Well that rules most of us out...

The few I can think of you would know.

It took eight minutes to get Lee's Satellite off track, using a set of wheel dollies. Scott Hendrix's 70 512 Duster ran a 10.65-124 to nearly duplicate his pass from Monday, then a few pairs later the track shut down for an extensive lane cleanup following what appeared to be a perfectly clean run by a CTS-V of all things. The racing was silent for twenty minutes, so we had effectively lost thirty minutes of run time in the first hour of track availability. Considering my brothers were still looking at the inside of their eyelids, that was probably a good thing for us.

With the plug change done, I fired the Valiant, made sure it was hitting on all eight properly, then drug out the timing light.
"Sit in the seat, and fire it up when I tell you to", I instructed Rachael.
"No, I'm the trunk monkey this year so I want to learn how to do it...and not just holding the light on the thingie, all of it, hooking it up, moving the plug wire holder in the back, all of it!"
I chuckled, shook my head, then drew in a deep breath and decided we had time and if she wanted to learn that was a good thing.
"First", I pointed as she looked over my shoulder, "That's the balancer, not a thingie, the piece cast into the cover with a zero mark is the timing tab, and that back there, is a distributor not a plug wire holder!"
I called Will over to man the driver's seat and showed him the process to fire the car, then talked Rachael through the entire process with my hands behind my back, letting her do it all. I realized at some point that this is really what's required to keep these old dinosaurs alive, one generation teaching the next how it was done before laptop screens with plug and play.
"So we've backed it off from 34 to 30", Rachael noted as she carefully removed the timing light leads from the engine. "Are those the settings we're going to use all week?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much it, the MSD will pull out another 9 degrees when the nitrous is applied", I explained.
"That's quite a bit isn't it?" Will asked as he climbed out of the car.
"More than you're used to hearing around my brothers, I'm sure, but small blocks are more sensitive to timing on the bottle than all their big blocks are!"

We heard Heinselmann over the loud speaker and looked up in time to see the purple AAR Cuda stop the counters at 9.31-144.
"That big Hemi is flying", Will exclaimed.
"No doubt", I agreed, "and that run is within thousandths of what he ran at Cordova, so I'm sure he and Connie will be heading for Byron shortly!"