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Re: War Stories and TallTales.....
[Re: peabodyracing]
#557635
01/03/10 10:15 PM
01/03/10 10:15 PM
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Joined: Feb 2004
Posts: 6,257
acworth / N. georgia - south e...
cheapstreetdustr
master
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master
Joined: Feb 2004
Posts: 6,257
acworth / N. georgia - south e...
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Quote:
1973 or so, in college after 4 years in service and I meet a guy at school (who'll I'll call Joe) with a GM manufactured car running SS. Beautiful car, best of everything. He had $10,000 in the thing, which seemed unbelievable at the time. We'd drive to Northstar dragstip; his car trailered, mine flat towed behind my driver car. He'd check/adjust everything, make a pass, have problems, come back and check/adjust/tinker, repeat.
I'd make a pass, lift the hood to make sure the engine was still there, make another pass. He'd scoff at my car, my apparent lack of dedication, or whatever he perceived. I beleive at the time I had nearly $1800 in my car. I didn't care whether he approved of mine or not, I was just there to have fun, but I was getting tired of the snide remarks. When we'd go to the staging lanes he'd go so far as to always pull into a different lane as far from me as he could get.
This particular trip my Dad had come and Joe's Dad had come. We introduced them to each other and they hit it off well. Apparently both of them picked up on the friction developing between Joe and me. We'd driven to the staging lanes and as usual Joe went way off to the right. As we got closer to the burn out area, Joe was about 5 cars in front of me and I saw the Dads talking to track officials. Joe was getting set to do his burn out in the right lane. The officials had him hold for a minute, and came back to wave me around the cars still in front of me, directing me to the left lane. Joe looked over and saw he was going to run against me, kind of set his jaw and hunched down to business. He did a massive burnout, I chirped the tires through the water as usual. Couldn't afford to wear out my used set of slicks.
We stage, lights come down and about halfway down the track I'm right at Joe's left rear wheel. As if in slow motion I see Joe look over his shoulder, passed my car, looking for me, figuring I'd be well behind him. He doesn't find me, his head swivels back toward the front and as he's doing so realizes I'm nearly next to him. I'll never forget the look on his face.
We came back to the pits and Joe was so mad he wouldn't even talk. The two Dad's were laughing and poking at each other. Joe wouldn't even talk to his Dad as he loaded up the car. He decided there was something wrong with the car and it needed to be put back on the trailer for repairs.
Dad died 4 years ago, but often would bring up that story. Rest in peace Dad. I sure miss you!
this is a great story..thanks
365" Iron J heads,,3480lbs best 1.39 60ft on SS springs.10.54,124 mph ...6.67 1/8th et.average 60fts 1.46 w/ small cam &.063 no2 pill tagged & insured
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Re: War Stories and TallTales.....
[Re: hemiparts]
#557637
01/09/10 04:21 PM
01/09/10 04:21 PM
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Joined: Jan 2007
Posts: 2,212
Minnesota
peabodyracing
top fuel
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top fuel
Joined: Jan 2007
Posts: 2,212
Minnesota
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I've gotten some PM's on my last story about when my Dad "arranged" a race for me. Thanks for the feedback. In retrospect, it hit me that it's not the racing, but the darn car that prompts all the memories and stories. Allow me to go a bit off track with this subject: I'd purchased my beloved 61 Lancer wagon in San Francisco. I was stationed there 1970-73. The purchase broke up an engagement to the girl back home, who it turned out had a few other guys going at the same time anyway...somewhere there's a 650 Triumph money I'd sent home to her bought for another lucky guy.
I got in a fair amount of trouble with the car street racing in the Bay area. Lots of fun running at Champion. When discharge time came, Dad (and Mom) volunteered to come help me drive my collection of junk home. I put street gears/tires in/on the Lancer, put a trailer hitch on it and used it to flat tow my 33 Chevy coupe. Dad drove my 66 Valiant pulling my freshly made 2 wheel trailer containing spare engines, 4 speeds, dirt bike, etc. When it came time to leave, 2 of us couldn't lift the tongue of the trailer to hook it up to the Valiant, so I spent a few anxious minutes moving heavy stuff to the back to balance it out.
The trip home to Minnesota was a story in itself; Lancer broke down in Nevada, twice in Nebraska (nothing like dropping a cast iron 4 speed by hand on the side of the interstate) again in Iowa. At that point I parked the Lancer at a gas station, unhooked the 33 Chevy and drove that the rest of the way. Fortunately the Valiant and trailer made it through ok, other than nearly running out of brakes going through the mountains because the trailer was so heavy.
Dad was increasingly unhappy as the trip progressed, finally losing his composure completely at the second break down in Nebraska. By Iowa I wasn't sure we'd be on speaking terms once home. The final tests to his patience, needing to borrow his car to go back to Iowa and retrieve the Lancer and then taking over his space in the garage to effect repairs. By then he was really unhappy with me. Dad was the kind of guy who changed his oil every 30 days, religiously, so you can imagine how he liked his care sitting outside overnight.
A week or so later the Lancer is all repaired and I drive it out front to wash the dirt and grime off it from the long trip. I go down the basement to put the wash supplies away and hear the Lancer start up. I run up the stairs and out the side door to see Dad driving away in the car that had tormented him all the way back from CA. I was sure he was going to drop it at the local scrap yard.
Fully half an hour went by and finally I heard the sound of those old, leaky fenderwell headers coming down the street. Dad parks the car, gets out and walks up to me. "Where...why... what did you do?" I stammered. Dad just smiled, and walked in the house. He never did tell me what he did.
Lead, follow or get the hell out of the way
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