Darren backed the Dakota into the pits, and Dale just nosed in beside him, jumped out and grabbed a jack. He stuck it under the rear, lifted the car up and crawled in front of the driver's side ET Street.
"Ripped the front ladder bar mount right out of the frame!" He exclaimed, "so it slid back, and kicked the passenger tire into the fender."
"So that's why it smoked at the finish line." I deduced.
"No, that's why it wouldn't stay in the groove all the way down the track! It broke at the hit, and made me work my tail off to get that pass in!"
"You...are an Idiot", I shook my head.
"Yeah, but I'm a fast idiot", he grinned.
"I've got to get this thing to the muffler shop, before he closes", Darren interrupted, "We need to get moving."
"Well, let's get our slips turned in, and get the route sheets", Boone suggested, and the four of us grabbed our time slips and headed toward the tower.

When we returned to our pit spot, John and James were under the Gremlin, with a ratchet strap. Dale joined them, and they decided to attach the strap to the broken ladder bar mount, then hook the other end to the trans mount and pull it back into place.
"That should get you home", John decided, "Then James can weld it up for you."