Around 6:30pm, Lohnes was still harping about the Quick 32 ladder, and Freiburger who had rejoined him in the booth after an extended absence chimed in, "We have a long line of racers trying to turn in slips, perhaps we need Lonnie Grimm to get up there and fast track any SME racers to the front of the line so we can finish the ladder!"
"How hard can it be?" I looked at John, "I used to build a ladder for ADRA eliminations in fifteen minutes!"
"I just don't understand why they haven't gathered up all they need yet, they've been calling for those time slips for a solid hour now!" John shook his head.
"We are going to run through the bracket race pretty quick tonight", Lohnes assured the locals over the loud speakers, "after all, these are street cars that just drove a thousand miles...so they don't need twenty minutes to cool down between rounds!"
"Good grief", I looked a John, "That's NHRA announcer code for: we are gonna hot lap the crap outa you guys"!

Doc McEntire pulled his SeeRed Camaro into the beams for his final pass, and an attempt to not only win the Pro Street NA class, but to beat Eddie Miller's five day average from the year before. It wasn;t to be as the Powerglide let go again just before the 60ft clocks, and he coasted to a 30 second ET.
John was in the next pair, and it was clear from the last ten sets or so that the track was greasy, beat up, and nearly impossible to get grip in the first twenty feet, but they were in such a hurry to finish us up, they had no plans to touch it.
As if a cruel joke to end the torture of sitting in the lanes, John went red, then the board didn't light up with an ET or Mph. I was already in my car buckled up, so I was left to ponder if the timing had malfunctioned, or if he had actually left before the tree activated. They held the next pair a considerable amount of time afterward, so I was left to question it even more.
My final pass in the Valiant was nearly as anti-climatic, as I struck the tires at 6:57pm, three hours after my first pass, lost .11 in the 60ft and ran 10.700-125 to round out my DW-15.

I parked beside the Belvedere, and walked over to where Aaron and Boone were cleaning the gasket surfaces and injured piston on Dale's 440.
"Where is Dale?"
"He went with Darren to a Machine shop to get the head fixed", Boone informed me.
"Where did he find a machine shop that's going to help him after hours on a Friday night", I asked, somewhat incredulous.
"Some elderly guy had been talking to him for the last hour or so, and even volunteered to help. Then when they checked the head out once it was off, he told them to follow him to his shop so he could fix it", Aaron shrugged.
"Sounds like Dale's luck", I shook my head, "I didn't figure there was any chance he'd find anyone tonight!"
I looked at Boone, "Have you turned in your slip yet?"
"No. You ready to head up?"
"Yeah, grab your camera and we'll head to the tower."

I looked over at John's Valiant. He had it jacked up and was removing the side pipe exhaust for the first time in two Drag Weeks. He needed to find a way to cover the tenth he was going to be forced to dial down from his average, and unlike many of the hitters in the SME class he hadn't sandbagged to allow a cushion.