The seventy or so miles to Checkpoint Three was pretty uneventful for Rachael and I, except for a little problem I was having with the Valiant. The night air was cold, so I closed up all the windows, but there is a small hole or two in the firewall, and one header tube has an annoying habit of blowing out it's gasket halfway through each Drag Week, so about the time the cabin was getting warm and cozy, I'd start feeling nauseous, and a little less than coherent! I'd roll down the window and get a blast of fresh cold air, which would revive me, and freeze me at the same time. After experimenting over the hour and half jaunt, I found that the driver's side window opened about three inches provided a happy medium.