So, we managed to cram eight Drag Week entries into the small lot.

It didn't cause too big of a scene, as I imagine it had been happening all day!

Josh Walton and his Nebraska based Monte, another of those guys who had picked up substantially at Thunder Road.

It did mean we had to wait for all the Chevy rabble to clear out so we could get our Mopars to the pumps!

Hot Rod could have shot us up to Texarkana, and put us right on US 30, but no...they weren't going to let us have a whiff of the big road! Just as well though, because US 371 that took us north out of Louisiana into Arkansas, was a good stretch of highway with great scenery.
Boone and I spent the better part of the drive to Prescott Arkansas, discussing Larry Larson's apparent vulnerability. Thinking this may be the year that Jeff Lutz finally gets it done. Prescott is home to a really nice 1000ft-1/8th mile facility, that I've never raced at or seen, and this trip was not going to provide that either! We turned on US 67 at this point and basically paralleled US 30 all the way to Arkadelphia. We had basically passed or ran with at least a dozen different Drag Week Competitors along the way, which tends to happen when you actually leave the track at a decent time!
Just outside of Arkadelphia, US 67 and US 30 intersected, and as is typical of these locations, it was inundated with Gas Stations, so that's where we made our first stop of the drive.

Breakfast just not the same without a update.

I filled up first, then Rachael moved up to my pump. Boone and I were just waiting around, and the others told us to go ahead and go, they would catch up.
Dale and Rachael had been lobbying to stop at Cracker Barrel, and we had vetoed that idea, so my first thought when we drove past it 3 miles later was, "Do you think they just got rid of us to eat where they wanted?"
"Possibly", Boone laughed, "Wouldn't hurt my feelings!"
The road necked down to a tight, shoulderless two lane, and I must say this next 35 mile stretch of AR7 was some of the most breathtaking scenery of the entire trip. We were chasing the purple AAR Cuda which had been spraying and running low 10's so far, and he was right on the butt of the little green Gremlin.
"I thought the Cuda was out?" I added
"Well, it showed his results in blue on the computer, but I think it was a typo, because he's still turning in slips" Boone surmised.
"Did you see that Gold Barracuda in the pits?"
"Yeah, got a picture of it, cool car!"
It never fails at any Drag Week stop, the locals drive thier hot street cars out to the track to hang out and show off..it's like a bonus car show every day!
"The red El-Camino was there too, that's the same guy who was sitting on his tailgate, drinking a beer in front of his house, watching everyone drive by yesterday!"
"Yeah, and that was before we jumped out on 20, so he drove a good way to get here today" Boone mentioned.

"When you changed the fluid on the 727 in Ennis, were you worried?" I glanced at Boone.
"Naw...the fluid was dark, but not burnt black like a few we've seen in the pits already", He laughed, "Had a little more metal in than I'd like though."
"Yeah, Darryl saw that and told me we better have Dad meet us with the other trans in Memphis!"
"In a perfect world, we really need to change it two or three more times, but I really think it will be good."

We were driving over a lake, and on the other side of the bridge was a lakefront seafood place. Mike and Lane's Chevy truck was in the parking lot. "Guess they decided on some local fare", I pointed it out to Boone.
We kept moving, I'd told Boone earlier in the day that I wanted a car wash, for this filthy car, and a B of A to get more cash. He had pointed out a few carwash locations, but I had the bit between my teeth and just kept rolling.

Hot Springs AR. is a major resort area, so as we drove towards the heart of town, we saw nearly every shop, mall, chain store and chain restraunt you could imagine.

The purple AAR:

That leg of the trip was for sure the best roads and scenery I think.

Great pic, Chris! We took precious few when the cars were actually rolling this year.

We spotted a B of A, unfortunately on the wrong side of the road in a high traffic area. So I parked, and walked across. Darn place had no walk up teller, so I had to have Boone bring the Valiant over, and we had to get in the drive up lane, great fun!
After that little adventure, we headed on towards our first checkpoint, a Bowling alley, when I saw an Olive Garden up ahead that I couldn't pass up. So we pulled in parked, and called Dale, they were at the checkpoint, apparently they had passed us while we were in line at the bank.

Darryl, Dale, and Rachael agreed to backtrack the 3 or 4 miles and join us. The service was terrible, but the meal was great, and we left feeling like...well, stuffed, and wishing the motel in Memphis was only 40 miles away!

When we made it back to checkpoint #1, Lane was there as well as Randal ( The Silver Buick, BangShift) so we hung out for a while and talked. When we finally headed out of Hot Springs, and jumped on US 30, then under Little Rock, and onto I-40, it was dark, getting late, and we had 170 miles left to grind out!
Boone was quiet, the traffic was moving around us, the smallblock was singing away at 2900, and I just wanted real estate to keep moving under our tires! Hot Rod had us scheduled for a 19 mile detour off of I-40 to catch checkoint #2. At the point we exited off 40 we would be at the limit of our comfortable fuel range, so I figured we would fuel at that exit, I mean since it was an intersection of two major roads, a Gas Station was a given right? We exited onto AR33 in total darkness, absolutely nothing around, two miles later, we jumped onto US 70, again nothing. I began to feel my pulse quicken, and my stomach rise, this was not good!

As if worrying about gas mileage wasn't enough, this section of US 70 must have been chosen by Hot Rod for it's bone jarring roughness! Throughout the rest of Arkansas, you could see that the high spots in the asphalt, where it cracks and pushes up, had been shaved down. This stretch however, hadn't received that treatment yet, and we were taking a beating!
"How far to the Checkpoint, Boone"
"Well we turned on 70, at 257 into the trip, and the checkpoint is 271, so about 10 miles left I'd say".
We clawed on through the pitch black darkness, thump, thump, thump, the headlights shaking with every impact. When the lights of the town finally began to come into focus, it felt a heck of lot further than any 10 miles!
Less than a 1/2 mile into the small town of Brinkley AR., we rolled up to a cruddy, filthy little hole in the wall convenience store with a torn up cratered lot and two pumps that looked as though they had been in service for twenty years! I was 145 miles on a 15 gallon fuel cell that I've never put more than 13.5 in at any one time, so I had no qualms about pulling right in!

That convenience store is where I backed into a light pole base that had no light pole.Couldnt get out of there quick enough.

I tell ya Don, If somebody would've starting playing a banjo, I might've hightailed it right outa there!!

A guy who looked to be about twenty-five, came out and started up conversation with "Told the girls to open up the pumps for ya'll...you just pay after you fill up".
Rachael went in to pick up some snacks for the road as we rotated the cars to get fuel.
"Yep, You're in luck, Wednesdays we have premium for the same price as mid-grade!"
Darryl and I gave each other a concerned look, both thinking, "What the heck are we putting in our tanks"?
"Your brake lights are stuck on!" Boone commented at the back of the Valiant.
"Great! lets just pull the fuse out, I don't want to crawl under there and mess with it!"
I went in and grabbed some coffee, paid for my gas, as the huge girl behind the counter pounded on an ancient cash register, then we loaded up and found checkpoint #2 a few miles further into town.

When we arrived there, we pulled up in front of a Veteran's Memorial Park, very nicely done, well manicured, and in a Town Square type setting. We had the run of the place for a good 5 minutes, taking our pictures, and walking around. It was well-lit and quiet, I decided to pull out my papers, and call the motel, since it was already after 9pm, and I wanted them to know we'd be late.

I ran a stop sign after the checkpoint.Didnt really care.All I could think of was "Deliverance"It didnt help matters that my co-pilots were saying. "Hey Don you sure got a purty mouth"

I would have much rather rolled through that town during the daytime but the people at the gas station where nice to us, I think the one lady had an eye for Billy.
There is a lot more to dragweek than getting in your car and driving from track to track and racing. Running the car down the track is the easy part for the driver and the car.

Billy had a stalker? WOW!

I popped my hood open, and kicked on the fans, it really wasn't running hot, but this was a habit I'd developed on this trip. I was still digging through my papers, when I heard another Drag Week competitor rumbling through town. I pushed my hood down, and told everyone, "Lets move forward, so they can take thier pics". So we fired our 3 cars and moved to the end of the park, to make room. Shawn Fink, and his 63 Nova Wagon Unlimited entry rolled around behind us, followed closely by John Huber's Grand National.
In the length of time it took me to call the motel, they snapped thier pictures, loaded up, and with a honk and a wave were moving again. Next, an elderly man in an old El-Camino pulled up and started asking questions about all the hubbub going on, seems he was the park caretaker, and was just concerned with his handywork being destroyed. We complimented him on the beauty of the park, and assured him we intended to leave it as we found it. Just as he was walking back to his car to leave, two former Arkansas State linebackers in thier 30's, hopped out of a ratty ole chevy pick up, and one started chatting up Dale about the cars, while the other walked a little distance away and fired up his cell phone. He wasn't taking pics, he was telling someone in an excited tone, "Yeah, they're down here at the park right now...I'm not kidding...that's what I'm saying."
I was raised in the sticks of Oklahoma, but I've been in Phoenix 26 years, and spent much of my early years working and managing Convenience stores in the worst parts of town, and you develop a feel, a certain anticipation that can help you difuse situations before they start...and the ole Spidey sense was tingling right about now! I walked over to Boone and nudged him, "I think we best get moving". He took my cue and headed for the car. I walked to the door to step into the Valiant, and hollered back to the rest, "Guys we better roll, it's getting late". Darryl and Rachael each moved behind the wheel of thier respective rides as I fired up the Valiant. Dale was still talking to one guy, and it certainly seemed congenial enough, I watched in the mirror as he sat down in the passenger's side and shut the door. The local bent down put his forearms on the door ledge and continued the conversation, for a few seconds and I was really getting worried, then he backed away, waved goodbye with a smile, and I dropped the car into low and started rolling!

Boone looked at me, "You might have overreacted".
"Yep, certainly a possibility, but I can live with that".
We came up to the intersection to enter back onto I-40, and there on the corner sat a fresh, well lit, modern Shell station, just my luck!
We charged up the on ramp, as I found a place to merge into the oncoming traffic and bring the Valiant up to speed. Back on the big road, with an easy 80 mile jaunt ahead of us. The tach read 26,28,29...Whap!! Face full of Valiant hood!
I stuck my head out the side window, grabbed the brakes and headed for the shoulder. "Boone I can't see that side, how far can I go!"
"Bring it on over...right there!" We came to a stop with trucks roaring by, horns blaring.