I needed my drag week fix too.
lol
Jerry

I pulled the four crumpled time slips from my wallet, fanned then out like playing cards, and plucked out the one with the lowest elapsed time. I reached past Rachael, who was stuffing all my gear in the back seat area of the Valiant, and grabbed my camera case.
"I'm going to get my time slip turned in, and pick up my route sheet...you got this?"
"Yeah", she replied quickly, "We're just trying to get everything loaded as quick as possible, so some things may end up in different cars this time around."
"That's fine, just as long as this rain is short lived, and we don't have a bunch of interstate driving ahead of us!"

Great story line as always. Thanks for taking your time to share the experience with us wanna be's.
Jerry

I walked into the toter-home with my camera and time slip just in time to catch the tail-end of a discussion about the weight of my car between the scale operator and Sean Fling.
Sean looked my way with a smirk, and raised his voice, "Well, we all know Billy kinda likes to skirt the rules..."
I met his eyes and raised my voice beyond what was needed in such a small area, "What do you mean...", I paused for effect, the other 5 or 6 people in the room stopped breathing, "KINDA!"
I laughed, "You know I like to bend them right to the limit!"
Sean laughed as well, and everyone else relaxed. I first met Sean and Tara Fling at Drag Week 2006, which was, for all intents, their Honeymoon. Watching them grow into a family, has been one of the joys I associate with this event. The conversation that ensued as the weather raged outside took me off my game, and I forgot to take a picture of the time slip I handed over, so those incrementals will never make it into the log book!

Aaron was already in the passenger's seat of the Valiant and grabbed the route sheet as soon as I shoved it in the car.
"Two hundred and sixty miles, but this will be the earliest you guys have left a track in...?" He let it hang as if it was a question.
"For-ev-er!" I gave it in my best Sandlot impression.
"This is going to get interesting", I warned as we pulled out onto Il-84 alongside the Mississippi, and watched the water on the asphalt mimic the big river to our right. Darren and Rachael pulled out ahead of us, with the Gremlin, John's Valiant, the Barnyard, and finally Robert all following us.
"You might want to hang onto your seat", I grimaced.
Aaron glanced at me with an arched eyebrow, as if trying to discern if I was dramatizing the moment of not. After the first mile or two, Darren and Rachael were steadily pulling away from us. I would've guessed my speed to be about thirty, maybe thirty-five, and if I tried to squeeze another hundred rpm out of the 428, I could feel the back tires slightly moving right and left through my clinched buttocks. No part of my back was touching the tweed cover on the fiberglass bucket, and my shoulder muscles were bunched up like I was carrying concrete blocks. We went around a slight left hand curve as we fell off a hill and the rear kicked out slightly towards the ditch as I counter steered gingerly away from the center stripe.
"Whoah!" Aaron gasped and nearly dropped his cell phone.
"Yeah...I warned ya..it gets a little sketchy on water. How long are they going to have us on I-80?" I nodded toward the route sheet that he had completely forgot about momentarily.
"Only looks like about 4 miles", he confirmed, but never took his eyes off the road ahead.
I hazarded a glance in the rear view for the Gremlin, he had faded back at least a half-mile behind me, and in my quick glance I saw both doors. I decided not to take a second look until we covered the ten miles to the junction for I-80. There were two gas stations at the foot of the hill, and both parking lots were absolutely covered with Drag Week cars, most apparently electing to try and wait the rain out. When I pulled up to the gas pump and crawled out of the Valiant, I felt as cramped up as I would've if we had just drove 120 miles!

As crowded as the station was, It took a while to cycle everyone through the pumps. We weren't in any great hurry to jump out on I-80 in the rain anyway, so we had a strategy session while we waited it out a bit.
Darren walked up with a wry grin on his face and said, "Guess what just happened to me?"
"Not a clue", Boone shrugged.
"I just had a guy ask to look in my truck bed to make sure I wasn't hauling parts or tools for any of the family cars", he shook his head, and chuckled.
"No way", Boone exclaimed.
"So they do have someone out on the road this year checking stuff out...that's a good thing, I think, especially after all the rumors and accusations last year", I added.
"That's pretty wild", Dad laughed. "Did you explain to him that we didn't have time to load all the heavy stuff in your truck because the rain showed up?"
"Dad's always wanting to stir the pot!" Dale jumped in, "are we ready to give it a go? The rain doesn't seem to be letting up, and the longer we wait, the more water there is to deal with on the roads".

He was right, of course. Unless the rain is torrential, the lack of wipers isn't a problem, it's the amount of standing water already on the roads which cause the traction woes that greatly quicken one's pulse rate.
"Rachael, you stay behind all of us with ET Streets, and run your 4-ways while we are on the interstate", I instructed.
As I started up the on ramp, I began looking over my shoulder to look for a suitable break in the traffic to insert the slow moving Valiant into. The first semi that passed was displacing huge amounts of water to either side, so I could tell the road was covered. There was easily a quarter-mile gap between the second semi, and the next set of cars behind him, so I pulled the Valiant out behind that one, and immediately set my sights on following the tracks his duals were leaving in the standing water. We were able to get to about 45 mph before Aaron was grabbing the roll bar. I backed it down gingerly and held on to around 40 while constantly monitoring the rear view mirror to make sure we were not in danger of the next cars running us over before they realized how slow we were driving.
"One and a half more miles to the exit", Aaron informed me.
My cell phone rang, and I leaned over to fish it out of my front jeans pocket. Aaron didn't actually say anything, but the look he gave me told me he was questioning the sanity of answering my phone in the current situation.
It was Rachael. "Boone can't get up to speed in the Barnyard, without the trailer tossing him all over the road, so we are on the shoulder", she reported.
"OK", I paused to think about it, "just drive it down the shoulder as slow as he has to, it's only four miles. When we get off on the state road, we can run slow, and hopefully this will let up!"
"Sure, I'll just follow him with my hazzards on."
We took the exit with a sigh of relief. The fifteen or so near misses as cars charged at us only to pull into the left lane at the last instant was far rougher on our nerves that the Hoosiers dancing on the water.
Five or six miles into our jaunt down Il-92 the rain was already nearly gone, and the standing water on the asphalt was dissipating quickly.

We cruised into Moline Illinois, and I noticed a sign for the Deere and Co. World Headquarters, and immediately thought of Jesse and his John Deere themed Chevy truck. He had been up all night just trying to get people to Cordova, so I doubted if he was going to be in any shape to stop by for some sight seeing! That seems to be a common situation on every Drag Week. They carefully plan out these routes to take us by all kinds of cool places, and we rarely have the time or conditions that allow us the opportunity to take advantage of it.

With the cessation of the rain, I noticed that the small block's temp was climbing a bit faster than normal, then suddenly I remembered that I had pulled the t-stat before we started racing today...another of my attempts at gaining ground on the Camaro. It's been quite frustrating to have that much heat in the engine before each pass, so I thought that maybe if I could keep the heat out of it, it might pick up some.
"How much further to the first checkpoint?" I asked Aaron.
"About five miles", he checked the sheet, "and it will be the only checkpoint on this route."
"Hmmm", I wondered aloud, "with only one checkpoint this early into the route, you have to think some guys will just chuck the sheet, and punch in the fastest route to their motels."
"Probably", Aaron agreed, "That would make Robert and Darren happy."
"Yeah, well they have that option, I guess, but we will stick with it. We're going to have to re-install the t-stat when we hit the checkpoint though, because once this cloud cover burns off, she's going to overheat!"

We turned into a damp, rocky, gravel parking lot, and I scraped one of the stainless mufflers on the entrance, but luckily we weren't going to need to crawl under the car, so it would suffice!

50's or 60's govt tract homes in the background it appears....

The crowd at that checkpoint "sketchy" when we went through there.

Well, as you can see in the photo, we were hanging out there with the Aussies in the clapped out Chevelle...and it doesn't get any more sketchy than that group!

By the time we got the t-stat re-installed and headed back out to US-67 South, the weather had taken a change for the better, and the sun was shining down on us for the first time on Thursday. We crossed over the Rock River, under the I-280 bypass, and after a few stoplights through Milan, we were on a divided four-lane road headed out into the beautiful Illinois country side. We rode along, enjoying the view for ten miles or so, until we realized it was starting to get very warm in the car.
"We've had the window wings closed all day", I noted.
"Yeah", Aaron agreed, "lets open them up and get some airflow in here".
We drove along for a few miles, and I started hearing a faint whine, that I began to imagine might be a front wheel bearing. Finally Aaron looked over at me and asked, "Are you hearing that?"
"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure it's coming from your side", I affirmed.
"No", he argued, "It's definitely coming from your side!"
We both hung our heads out the side windows to better pinpoint where the sound was coming from to no avail.
"I swear it's louder in the car..."
"It certainly is", he interjected, "but that doesn't really make sense".
After a few more miles, I asked him start closing his window wing slowly. When he had moved it only a few inches, the sound stopped.
"Wow...that's weird, it's never done that before, but we are running into a bit of a cross wind so I think that's contributing", I suggested. With our minds at ease we just let it howl and adjusted our psyches to accept it as another of the sounds the Valiant makes that are "normal".

Pic#1. This is real navigation! No GPS needed for Scott!
Pic #2. Rolling through the Illinois countryside!

Ah, noises, sometimes you hear the valve train as normal and sometime its coming apart. THen your ear pops and it goes away but your still sketchy, so you start thinking whats wrong, planning where to pull over and whats needed so you start really listening and make yourself crazy. Then you glance at the temp gage and start worrying about that instead...

...and then, you can't really tell if it's coming from the top of the motor, or the bottom, or this side, or that side...right, Tony?

Yup

Being deaf has some advantages. I just turn my hearing aids off.

The run from Milan IL. to Jacksonville IL. down US67 South was a fairly nice stretch of road, and other than being a little warm for cruising comfort, the 145 miles or so was pretty uneventful for the two of us in the Valiant, John and Opal in their Valiant, and Rachael and Skippy in the Belvedere. The rest of our group, and many of our Drag Week companions, you ask? No...uneventful is not a word that they will use to describe that portion of Hot Rod Drag Week 2015...

The first defection from our group was, of course, Boone and Dad, as they stopped to see if Steve Reimann needed assistance with his Australian 70 Ford Capri. Steve is basically the one that started the Aussie invasion of Drag Week by bringing a bunch of his mates over and terrorizing the countryside in his 11 second four door 63 Dodge 440.
The Capri runs a wicked, high rpm Cleveland that has pushed it to a best of 10.04-135 NA, but the electric fuel pump gave up on the trip back to St. Louis. Like most grizzled veterans of Drag Week, they carried a spare; and like most of us without a trailer, reaching said spare meant unloading everything from the trunk onto the side of the road!

In the 2nd pic, you can see Boone at the front of the car, and Dad at the extreme right, assessing the situation.

Dale peeled off the back of our procession a few miles later, with Darren following him, and they headed up a side road. I assumed it was just time to dump in one of the fuel jugs he uses to extend his range on the road, and they would be along shortly. Opal sent me a text to ask if I wanted to stop, and I sent back a simple "No" in response. Even that attempt awarded me with a sidelong, unapproving glance from Aaron. Texting while driving is inherently dangerous; but me, with my ancient flip phone, while driving the Valiant, that takes it to a whole new level!
One of the enjoyable parts to this leg of the trip was, that since we got on the road at a decent hour, and were making good progress, we were actually traveling with, and crossing paths with, a much larger group of our fellow competitors than our nocturnal treks usually allow. As such, our first gas stop was fairly busy and crowded with fellow Drag Weekers, and we took the time to chat with quite a few of them as we shuffled cars around the available pumps. I made it through the bathroom line, topped off the Valiant with fuel, then made myself comfortable in the passenger's side seat.
Aaron came out of the convenience store with an armload of drinks and snacks heading directly for the right door, then stopped mid-stride and gave me a weird look.
"I've had enough", I motioned towards the other seat, "You can take us the rest of the way!"
He climbed in, and we arranged all our stuff accordingly. "You need my smart phone", he asked as he handed me the route sheet.
"No, no...this route looks pretty easy...I think I can handle the navigation duties!"
We went over the switches, gauges, and shifter one more time. He had been paying attention the whole trip, but I wanted to make sure he was comfortable before we pulled out on the road.
"What if one of us bumps the trans-brake button while we are driving down the road", Aaron asked.
"I...don't...know, honestly", I shrugged, "let's agree not to do that, I'm not sure we want to find out!"
He fired up the small block, and we led our small contingent back out onto US67.
Aaron looked over at me a couple miles later and commented, "the car pulls a little towards the center line all the time, even on these crowned two lane roads."
"Yeah, the rear suspension isn't square..it's on the list", I replied.
"The same list as the passenger seat belts?"
"That's the one, along with fixing the trunk rods and key, and twenty other nagging problems."
"What about this throttle pedal? Is it on the list as well? The feel is so light on it, it makes it difficult to hold it at a steady speed!"
"Not on this list! Boone complained about it, Dad complained about it...and now you. I had a solid rod throttle installed in 2008, and the leverage point is wrong, so even with two return springs on the carb it feels really light. I've thought about adding another spring on the opposite side of the bell crank, but I'm so used to it after all these years, I just go with it."
Once Aaron settled in, I settled in, it was nice to just sit back and enjoy the scenery for once...then the phone started going off again.

Aaron has said to me on more than one occasion that he wants to go to your house and work on it again and also tweak your diesel truck. You should take advantage of the offer before it gets too hot.

He's a rare individual, a true gear head, that likes ALL things motorsports. He had loads of fun riding with you and helping out. He sure made my recent run in Drag Weekend a success. I don't think I could have done it without him.

As usual, great writing. I'm still amazed at how you remember all the details. Heck, I was there and it was all a blur to me. It great to re-live the experience through your stories. Thank you and carry on please...

I think Billy is enjoying the Barnyard Viper while he has it and not posting his story............

That could be, something else has his attention for sure, lol

I've haven't neglected this story nearly as much as Dale has neglected the Gremlin! He decided to start working on it again after a long winter in hibernation and found this...