Four sets of cars after the clean up, Dale idled the Gremlin into the water box of the left lane. The 572 sounded much cleaner than last year's 440, namely because he hadn't pulled out as much timing, the plan was to hit this engine with considerably less N20.
As he was suiting up I had attempted to talk him into moving the hit further out, or running NA, but he wouldn't hear any of it.
"Look, the last two years, my opening time slip on Monday has been a 9.59. I have no intention of turning in a 9.59 to start this year!"

He left with the front wheels slightly up, but as soon as the N20 hit, it blew the tires off, and slammed the nose back down. He pedaled it once then stood back in it, it seemed to level off at 1000', but the boards flashed a 9.83-152.54.
I looked at Rachael, "He'll drive it right back up to the lanes, I guarantee it! That's eight second mph., he just needs to figure out the launch!"

Boone was up two sets later in the same lane, and he did a burn out across the starting line.
"What was that all about?" I asked Rachael.
"I don't think they have the line lock working yet", she explained.
"They've done nothing but wire on it for two days straight!"
Boone grabbed the nitrous about 60 feet out, and the 512 started shooting ducks, but he held the button to it all the way to the 1000' mark, and ran 10.68-126.7.
"Well...it wasn't nines, but it's a start", I shrugged at Rachael as we headed back to the Valiant.

Five sets after Boone ran Jamie Hochbaum pulled his Modified Power Adder silver 2010 Challenger into the left lane water box for his second attempt at Drag Week. Last year he failed to make it past day two with a best of 12.05-152, if you are wondering why I haven't mentioned it before...well, it has a turbo LS under the hood.
The right lane was occupied by Dave Schroeder and his Canada based, nitrous huffing, big inch 66 Corvette tuned by Monte Smith. If you remember my story from last year, Monte and the Schroeder brothers used Friday afternoon and Saturday to make huge strides with the car. They were hoping to capitalize on those gains at 2016 Drag Week.

While the Challenger sat on the line and spooled, the Vette left good, with a respectable 1.14 60', and was running 165 at the 1/8. Jamie finally let the Challenger go as the Vette went past the thousand foot mark. The board lit up with 6.85-199.5 but the chute never blossomed. Jamie had the Challenger humming at the 1/8 mile mark as the back of the Vette started bouncing on the big slicks, and Dave was obviously in serious trouble. The rear of the Vette hopped towards the centerline, shoving the front end towards the left wall and forcing the car to make contact at a hard angle, catapulting him into the right lane, where the car came to rest. Jamie cleared the traps with a fine 8.31-167, dropped the laundry, then had to navigate around the wounded car sitting cross ways in his lane. Luckily the time differences between the beginning of each run gave Jamie plenty of time to make the needed adjustments and navigate the shut down area.

Little more info on the Ev incident.Met Ev in 07 and traveled with him Michael Crow,and Larson, Houston Alford and James hughes.Last day Ev was winning his class and on his first pass on Friday he grenaded the tranny,driveshaft and 3rd member at 11:10 a.m.. lanes closed at Noon.He was leading his class and all the second place guy had to do was run a 12 second easy pass.He had a spare transmission but nothing else.He got towed back and we were all waiting there with tools,jackstands to see what we could do.Mike asked Ev what the driveshaft length was.Come to find out the one in Mikes 73 Cuda would fit.Under Mikes car I went.The rest of them started the tranny swap.As it came time to put in the 3rd member we found out it was going to need rebuilt so that was next.11:50 a.m. the swap was almost complete so I went to make my pass for the day.As I got to teh lanes Mr Second Place was just waiting to make his pass.He asked me if Ev was going to make it.Glad I had my helmet on as I told him"Doesnt look good."Made my pass and saw Ev heading to the lanes.I hauled butt back to the staging lanes and pulled up to Mr second place.As I did that Ev also pulled along side.The look on the guys face was priceless.Ev ran a high nine to secure the class win.
As for this year the car he had used to belong to a customer.It was a father and son project that unfortunately father and son had a falling out.The father sold it to Ev and wanted to see the car compete on DW.Evs first pass he had trans Brake issues.The second pass it was actually a broken water pump housing that caused him to get loose and into the wall. he did a heckuva a great job keeping it in his lane.Really sucked as He would have given Clark a run for his money.

The boys from Canada picked up the Vette this past Saturday. It was hurt pretty bad.

Flashing back to last year, when Billy mentioned we were struggling with the car.......well that's an understatement. This was likely an old Super Gas car or something. While it worked great with the 648, the 867 has been a struggle. The car is just unhappy. I was in Canada testing with them last summer and finally told them "it just won't work". So I hauled the car down here and dropped it at Chris Terry Race Cars for some much needed updates. Full double frame rail from 4-link to motor plate down tube bars and plenty more bracing. The first pass at Drag Week was the FIRST pass on the new chassis. I had it set really soft to just go A-B and it went 6.85, which was a best for the car by a lot. On the crash, Dave threw the chutes, but they had put new cables on and left too much wire hanging out of the sheath and it never turned them loose. Car has carbon brakes and he was on them hard. Once they got hot and grabbed one time.......it was over.

Looking at it now, it's a good thing we added the double frame rails to the car, or it would have been junk after the crash. Back on the jig at Chris Terry's, the car was perfect from firewall back. It just needed a new front clip. The body was the biggest concern, as that is a real Corvette, plus wheel wells and rear of body were modded pretty heavy. Richard Earle at Suncoast made us a rear tail for the car, so we just hacked the whole rear off to nearly the wheelwells and grafted a new tail on. That was much easier than trying to repair the crashed up stuff. Also whoever built the car originally had done some not so nice things in the rear and we fixed all that. We also installed new carbon tubs and replaced all the rear tin with carbon. New heavier 4 link bars, new heim ends and Santhuff struts this time.

They still have plenty of work to do, as they are building the front cradle to mount radiator and mounting the nose themselves. So as usual, will likely show at Drag Week AGAIN having no chance to sort the car first

Thanks guys, the input is much appreciated, as I can only scratch the surface of most of the stories that arise as Drag week unfolds.

They were fifteen minutes into the clean-up after Schroeder's accident when it was announced we were fifteen minutes from closing the back of the lanes. Since it would take longer than that before cars were sent down the track again, it was obvious that all of us remaining would only get one shot at the 1320. I kept peering towards the mouth of the lanes, waiting to see the Gremlin roll back in, but it never did.
Right before they gave the signal to resume sending cars down. Lohnes made one of his public service announcements at the request of a racer seeking parts help. "Dale Gebhart in the white Gremlin is looking for an intermediate shaft for a 440 mopar."
"That's the shaft that meshes with the cam, then drives the oil pump and the distributor", Freiburger explained.

I saw Darren walking from the back of the tower, so I stepped over to have a quick word.
"What happened", I asked him as he was walking up to the fence.
"Snapped the end off that drives the oil pump, probably should have changed the oil before he ran!"

The sound of cars firing up caught me off guard, so I spun from the fence and ran over to the Valiant. I tugged my jacket on and zipped it up, then folded myself into the car. The pair ahead of me disappeared under the tower, and I caught Lonnie Grimm's attention as I started pulling up.
"Lonnie! Can I pull over there out of line until I get ready? I don't want to hold anyone up!"
He gave me a thumbs up, and motioned me to the side.
This pass was too important for me to rush up there, and not be fully strapped in and mentally ready.

As an interesting side note to little Billy's Drag Week that he was sharing with his Dad, three uncles and cousin...he was also sharing it with his Step Dad. James Rawlins was well known to all of us long before he started dating Dale's x-wife, as gear head drag racers in a small town are a pretty tight knit group. They get along just fine, and both of them have stayed in their lanes when it came to raising the young man, so there would be zero tension on that front. James was riding shotgun with his boss, who brought a screaming yellow 2013 Zl-1 Nickey Camaro, which was pro-charged and nitroused.

As luck would have it, when I gave Lonnie the thumbs up to get back in line, I was paired with Jay and the Yellow Camaro. Just what I needed, more pressure. All those Chevy boys I grew up with in Oklahoma and street raced in my formative years, would all hear about this one, guaranteed!

Jay gave me a strange look as we approached the water and the first thing that went through my mind was, "I wonder if he thinks I pulled out of line just to get paired with him?"

I did my burn out in second gear, went to nuetral, cleared the engine, then purged the nitrous in the motor. I didn't like the way it hit, so I purged it again, then dropped it in low and staged. I'd decided I wasn't going to attempt using the trans-brake, so I could concentrate on getting on the nitrous at the correct time, with my hand on the shifter.
I left soft, the car left soft, but when I hit the nitrous, it started tiptoeing the front tires across the tarmac. Once I was in second the engine started popping in the exhaust. In all my years of running spray, and hearing other cars sound that way, this is the first time it had ever happened to me, but it was pulling hard so I stuck with it until just after a thousand foot. As soon as I lifted off the juice the engine cleaned right up and sounded fine to the stripe.
I hadn't seen the Camaro all the way down, but he was beside me pretty quick in the shutdown area, so I figured the victory wasn't a huge one.

The bottom pic is by Will McDougle and is courtesy of 1320 Video. I never crop a logo off a pic, but it in this case it was necessary to center the pic and make it fit this web site.

I have to say, I felt for Dave Schroeder when I started hauling the Valiant down to make the turn off. I've raced at 29 different tracks, and I'd list the National Trail shutdown area in the bottom two or three. My perception was that it was rough, short, and downhill, to be fair though that was the fastest speed I'd ever slowed from in the Valiant, and it doesn't have the best brakes! I was a little disappointed in the time slip, but it was a nine, and we would try to improve from there. I've got to admit though, when Dale was stuck with that 9.83, I was hoping to leave National Trail with the quickest run in the Family.

I parked in our pits and went over to check on the Gremlin, Dale grabbed my time slip as soon as I walked up.
"You didn't get me did you!" He laughed and handed it back, "but you did outrun Jay, that's a plus".
"What's the plan here, and when did it break?"
"I felt the engine sort of free up at about a hundred feet before the finish line, so I looked down and saw the pressure dropping. I just clicked it in neutral, and shut it off at that point. This is ridiculous with 4.10's and a 31 tire, I was at 7500 just past the thousand foot!"
"Did you find any parts?"
"Yeah...called Jegs, they have two, so I sent Darren after them, then we've been calling him about every ten minutes and adding things to the list!"
"Why didn't you send Rachael?"
"No time. Darren can run 90 all the way over there if he wants to, and she needs to pack, plus air up the tires, and who knows what else".
"Well...we should have her meet him when he gets back on this side of town...she can bring the parts back, and Darren and Shari can track us down some real food", I decided.
Dale looked around at the thirty or forty stragglers still in the pits and shrugged, "yeah, I suppose, you never know who is watching or taking notes!"

The call to turn in time slips as soon as possible came over the loud speaker once again, so Dale, Boone and I headed that direction. As we walked towards the entrance to the tower, Lonnie Grimm was standing just outside the door. I swear he looked right at me, then keyed the mic to his handheld radio.
"Keith Turk to the tower please, we need to check the tech sheets to see if a racer exceeded his ET limit!"
My heart was immediately in my throat, and my guilty conscience was working overtime in concert with my healthy imagination. I was still walking into the tower control room with my brothers, but my mind was completely disengaged from my body.

The last time Lonnie saw the Valiant run last year, I had admitted it wasn't legal to run under 10.00.
He saw me get prepared to run, and I had no gloves or a neck collar. We only have one pair between the three of us, and they were still in the Gremlin.
Was he talking about me? Could my paperwork withstand a thorough investigation? Was I about to be DQ'ed, or forced to take a 20ET/50mph and have my run disallowed?

I was sweating, I felt physically ill, my mouth was dry.
"Calm down man", Boone whispered, "You look like you're about ready to faint!"
Keith and another Drag Week staffer entered the room and went over to the corner to look through two boxes, one containing the white Hot Rod entrance sheets, the other had the yellow NHRA tech cards. They quickly pulled one of each and began comparing them. I was only two people away from turning in my slip, so I was away from the group, but Dale was back towards the door, and I could see him crane his neck to try and peer at the papers they were looking at.
"This is you on the left?" I heard a voice in front of me and snapped around to see who was talking. It was Tonya Turk with my time slip in her hand, although I had no recollection of handing it to her.
"Yeah...yeah, that's it...car 18." I stammered, trying to focus.
"9.91...That's pretty good for you isn't it?" She asked as she wrote out my official Drag Week card.
Dear lord...everyone was in on it, I had just walked into a full blown ambush!
"Yeah, best ever." I agreed.
"Congratulations", Tara Fling smiled at me as Tonya handed me the slip.
I just smiled and backed up so Boone could turn in his. My throat had just quit working and I could find no words. I turned to exit, and it felt like every eye in the room was on me.
Dale grabbed my shoulder as I passed, and put his lips to my ear, "I swear those are your sheets they are going over..."
I bolted from the room, and gasped in fresh air like a man emerging from a deep dive. I waited for the brothers to join me at the base of the tower and we headed back toward our cars. We walked in silence for about a hundred yards before I spun towards them and tossed my hands up.
"If they were looking at my stuff, why didn't they detain me?"
"They probably want to be sure before they say anything, they will just call you into the tower tomorrow when we get to Norwalk", Boone surmised.
We walked a little further as I was lost in a sea of points and counterpoints going off in my head.
"Not buying it", I shook my head. "That's not Keith's MO, you guys know that, he's never backed away from confrontation, if he had something he'd have walked out in that room and said, 'Hey Sugarbritches, get over here and explain this to us!, you know he would!"
Boone and Dale were laughing at me now, full on, uncontrolled laughter.
"Dude, get a grip, you are way too worried about this!"
I crossed my arms over my chest and walked the rest of the way back without acknowledging their existence.

Once back at our pits, Rachael showed me a facebook post from Duane on her phone. It was a photo of his computer screen during the live feed of the Valiant and the Camaro on the line. The caption read, "Great pass Billy and James!"
"Yeah, it would have said, 'the Mopar got sawed off by a showroom stock Camaro' if I had lost!"
Duane was Dale's classmate since first grade, and a competing Chevy gear head since they started playing with cars at thirteen.

For the first time, I actually paid attention to the driving route supplied to us by the Drag Week staff. "Two hundred and thirty-five miles, looks like quite a drive. Rachael punch in National Trail to Summit Motorsports Park and see how far it is straight through."
"They are ninety-four miles apart!" She laughed as she looked up from her phone.
"People are already posting on the Drag Weekers facebook site that there is one road that is completely blocked, and the detour adds even more miles. There are also pictures of guys following horse drawn buggies down a narrow two lane."
"Wow, this could get very interesting", I shook my head.

We noticed Monte was helping the Schroeder brothers get everything loaded up in their huge trailer, so we walked over for a visit. Usually Drag Week is so hectic that there is barely a moment to wave and say hi, so it was nice to take the time for a proper bench racing session.

As the afternoon goes by, these hours become like musical chairs in reverse. The guys who fire their machines up and drive out of the facility are the lucky ones. The ones still left on the grounds look at each other and wonder, "Are they going to make it out of here or are they going to make the walk of shame to the impound to get their truck and trailer?"

By the time Rachael came back with the parts to put the Gremlin back together, I had the Valiant packed up and ready to hit the road.
By the time Darren and Shari showed up with chicken and pizza, the Belvedere was packed up and ready to hit the road.
Dale fired the Gremlin a few minutes later, whacked the throttle a few times, studied the gauges for a minute then shut it off.
He shrugged when he walked around to put the hood in place, "Oil pressure is about twenty pounds down from where it was before that pass."
"But you changed out the break-in oil, with all that zinc additive, and who knows what other crap you added." I looked hard at him, trying to gauge his concern.
"True, and it didn't have any metal in it...it'll probably be alright."
"So...now you're at seventy pounds?"
"Yeah!" He laughed.
"One of these days I'll convince you to quit running gear lube in your engines!" I teased him, with a shove.
The dusk was truly upon us, but I felt we would be rolling towards Norwalk very shortly, then, to my surprise, Dale and Boone started working on the Duster's wiring once again.
"Good grief", I threw my hands up in disgust, "what is it now?"
"I really don't feel comfortable with him running down the road without an oil pressure or water temperature gauge", Dale explained, "and we need to wire a toggle for the fans."

I decided to walk around and check on everyone else still trying to leave before I ruffled some feathers.

Pic: Rachael never passes on the opportunity to kick an Uncle when they are down.

The extended cab Silverado with the ladder rack, was still in the pits, and parked beside him was the 98 Firebird that he was racing when the engine let go. I noticed earlier that the Pontiac had stopped at the end of the track when the truck was having trouble, but I didn't know if they were acquainted before Drag Week or not. Fast friendships and alliances form during the week based on like interests and sometimes necessity. There were four guys working on the truck, and two women sitting in lawn chairs. I was shocked when I got closer to realize the engine was stripped down and they were changing out a couple of pistons and rods!

Next, I checked out a SBC powered Fox which had made the last pass of the day. It had spent most of the day with the front on jack stands while they worked underneath it. It was in that position again, but the lone person working under it was sound asleep.

Joe Bouska's 7 sec nitroused 638 powered 67 Camaro was pushed into the trailer. He had a nitrous backfire on his first pass right at the hit, then had ran a mid nine second motor only run to stay in, but had decided to call it quits...word was they only had one good run on the combo before showing up Sunday.

Dad, Darren and I were standing around talking about the days racing for lack of better things to do, waiting for Boone, Dale, and little Billy to finish up with the Duster.
Dad was explaining how impressed he was with the Hellcat and I interrupted him.
"Why did you say tens? I watched that red Challenger make several passes and they were all in the 11.30 range!"
"Not the Challenger, the Hellcat Charger, it went 10.46", Dad explained, "it was that granite color, very understated".
"When Jim Sam was doing my alignment on the Valiant he explained that his new Hellcat Challenger was running 10.39 with a pulley swap and a few other small mods, so I guess I knew it was possible, but I never even noticed that a Hellcat Charger was on the grounds."
"They can hide in plain sight!" Dad explained, "Reminds me of the 66 Hemi Satellites...now everyone could see a 67 GTX coming from a mile away, but the Satellite could sneak up on them!"
Then he went into the re-telling of the entire story about his brand new 66 383 4 speed Satellite, and how he should have had a Hemi, but he went to a family dealership and asked for the largest engine available but they weren't up on the performance offerings. Darren and I rolled our eyes at each other, knowing we had no chance to get a word in for the next fifteen minutes.

It was dark, and the guys with the Mustang were loading up all their stuff in an enclosed trailer and throwing in the towel. A few minutes later they walked over to us and explained that they had paid for the Hot Rod VIP package which included a motel room at all the host motels. The package was not refundable, so they asked if anyone in our group would like to use it.
I figured trying to use something like that would be a hassle when you aren't the person that paid for it, and besides, I had rooms already, two per night, so I declined.
Darren's girlfriend Shari, however, looked like a drowning woman who had just been thrown a life preserver! She had spent just one night in a room that I had picked out, sharing it with my snoring Dad, and that was enough for her to realize that this was a change to score a major upgrade for her vacation with Darren.
Andrew was extremely accommodating, giving them information on each motel along the way, then also providing his cell phone number with the instruction to call him immediately if any of the motels gave them any trouble.

They seemed to be wrapping up the work on the Duster, and I started to actually think we wouldn't be the last ones out of the gate. Boone pulled out 5 feet of steel braided hose that I had seen him affix a fitting to earlier in the evening.

"What's that for?" I asked as he headed towards the engine.
"Going to drain the race fuel so I can put the pump fuel back in", he explained.
"Why not unhook the line at the pump?"
"I don't want to spill fuel in the trunk, we're just going to pull it off the return".

I was standing in the front of the car, while little Billy was inside to turn on the pump. Dale was holding a five gallon jug on the ground next to the passenger's front tire with a flashlight shining in it as Boone held the hose from the return side of the regulator in the jug.
"Ok Billy, hit it", Dale instructed.
As soon as the pump engaged, I heard a weird sound that reminded me of a cow pissing on a piece of tin. I looked immediately to see if gas was pouring onto the intake or the firewall, but couldn't spot any obvious leaks.
"Hey, something doesn't sound right", I stammered trying to get their attention.
Both Boone and Dale were staring into the jug.
"It doesn't seem to be flowing very much", I heard Boone mumble to Dale and realized they hadn't heard me or the sound.
"Billy! Shut it off!" I yelled, and waved my hands at the windshield.
Boone and Dale looked up as the pump clicked off, and asked what the problem was.
"You just filled the engine full of gas, that's the problem", I exclaimed.
"The sound I heard was fuel shooting out of the vent tubes and hitting the lid on the breather!"
"How could that happen?" Boone asked looking shell shocked, "It's a return style regulator, it should work whether it's going to the tank or a jug!"
Dale had the breather off and confirmed my diagnosis.
"What now?" little Billy asked.
"Now you pull every single plug out of the engine, disconnect the ignition and roll it over to get all the gas out!" I explained while chewing the side of my tongue off to remain civil, another freaking hour wasted because Boone is so tight he's trying to save fifteen dollars worth of race fuel instead of just dumping the pump fuel on top of it and heading down the road, which is what I do on both of my cars.

I walked a ways into the darkness trying to calm down, we've been through this routine before, when you get this far behind before drive #1 it is difficult to recover. Every minute we spent at this track was a minute less sleep we were going to get before racing tomorrow. I heard the Silverado ladder truck fire up, and everyone in that group was hollering and sharing high fives.
"Good grief, they can rebuild an entire ls engine in the length of time it takes us to wire up gauges in a Duster", I moaned as Dad walked up behind me.
"T Toad Hurley seemed pretty happy when he left here with his hood!" Dad expertly changed the subject.

When I showed off my new fiberglass hood for the '62 on Moparts, Aaron had pm'ed me about the possibility of getting my fiberglass guy to pop him one as well. I had explained that wouldn't be a problem, but asked how we were going to get it from Arizona to Michigan. He agreed to meet me in Columbus for DW day one, and as George Peppard used to say on the A-Team, "I love it when a plan comes together".

A truck drove up to the Silverado camp and a guy got out and started talking with them. I couldn't hear the words, but I noticed the truck had a National Trail logo on the door.
"That's the guy who's in charge of closing this place up", I explained to Dad, "We need to get this buttoned up and get moving!"

"It's not as late as we left on the trip from Tulsa to Topeka", Dad shrugged.
"True, but that was in your backyard, and you guys knew every inch of that drive, this time we'll be traversing Ohio back roads we've never seen before!"
"We won't be babysitting the Dakota", Dad added, trying to be as optimistic as he could.
"I'm not so sure the Duster is going to be any better!"
"Well...at least it will make for one heck of a story", he laughed and slapped me on the back.
"Yeah, but I'm not the orator you are...not like I'm going to have everyone standing around in a circle hanging on every word."
"You do alright, don't cut yourself short! Besides that you're a great keyboard jockey!" He laughed at his own joke before I could respond.
"Thanks...I think."

I drain the tank sometimes. I take the supply line off the bottom of my Magna fuel return regulator and the Prostar 500 pump will fill a jug in NO time!
What did they do????

Good thing you were there or they would be rebuilding the ruster duster's engine in the pits.
Which would be.... THE PITS!!

Don

Don,
It's a Moroso fuel log regulator, and it remains a mystery why that method didn't work.

We were ten miles into our journey when we found a Speedway station for our first fill-up, and it was already obvious that this was going to be a different trip than previous drag weeks. Darren and Shari were long gone, they chose to drive straight to their new accommodations in Norwalk rather than follow us on a wild goose chase. This would be my second Drag Week solo in the Valiant, because Dad decided to ride with Rachael. This came as a bit of a surprise to my brothers and I because he rode two legs of DW14 with her and swore he wouldn't do it again. He rode the final leg of DW11 with me in the Valiant and I thought we had a great trip, but I think he chose the comfort of the big B body with full exhaust and reclining seats over hanging out with his first born in a ladder bar early A. For the past three years, Dale has had James and his TomTom device on board to keep him and the Gremlin moving in the right direction, and fueled up with his very limited radius. This year he would have neither, and that made him a liability in just about any position in the caravan. Boone usually has Dad with him in the Barnyard Viper which was always super reliable and they had the trailer with them, so they made the perfect caboose to trail along and pick up the stragglers. This year with Boone and a rookie 13 year old navigator in a freshly built Duster, they were the ones who needed looking after, a role Boone was not accustomed to at all.

We pulled out of the Speedway with Rachael in the lead, followed closely by the Valiant and I. Boone was next with Dale as the caboose. When Rachael is the lead dog, she drives with all her attention on the road ahead, those behind can keep up or not, but she isn't going to adjust her speed based on anything that may occur behind her. Fifteen miles down the road , we had a half mile gap between Rachael and I back to Boone and Dale's headlights, but I decided not to worry about it, Boone would call if anything came up. We ran OH-16 for forty miles, a nice little shoulderless divided four lane that meanders alongside the Muskingum River. It probably was a very scenic drive, but the moonlight did little to allow more than a perfunctory glance to the roadside. OH-16 merged with US-36, and we followed the Tuscarawas River for eight miles. I was studying the Belvedere's lights in the darkness, and was convinced that they were dimming again. I certainly wasn't going to yell at her, as I had a year to fix that alternator plug and hadn't touched it, but I needed to stop her and get it plugged back in before she ran out of juice. We had to make a full stop to turn left on OH-93, and I used that moment to accelerate past Rachael and then pull onto the wide gravel shoulder opposite the driveway to the Agland Co-op.

She pulled the Belvedere up behind me, as I crawled out of the now silent Valiant. Instead of going to her window to talk with her, I went straight for the hood latch, as soon as I popped it, she killed the engine. I raised the hood with my right hand and reached down to plug in the alternator with my left. I had it in place when I heard the trunk pop open, and she walked up with the jack handle that we use as a prop rod.
"You need this to hold the hood open", she explained.
"I was just plugging the alternator back in", I took the handle from her and put it in place, "let's see if you have enough juice to re-start it.
The 440 cranked a half a turn before the solenoid started clicking. Dad stepped from the passenger's side and asked if I had the cables.
"No, but I have the battery charger...didn't we load the small generator up in the trunk of your car?"
Rachael had a look on her face that told me she was expecting me to be upset, and I was determined to keep it as upbeat as I could this early into the trip.
"Yeah, it's back there, I'll grab it!" Rachael exclaimed, the smile returning to her face.
"I'll get it", Dad corrected her, and moved towards the still open trunk lid, "you're in no condition to be lifting that heavy thing!"
"I'm pregnant, not helpless", she laughed at him, but allowed him to bring it up to the front of the car.
The little generator sounded like it was going to spill it's guts with the charger on forty amps, so we backed it off to twenty and the three of us grabbed some drinks from the cooler and walked to the back of the car.
"No biggie", I told them, "this will give Boone and Dale a chance to catch up with us".
The words had barely left my lips when my phone rang, I reached in my pocket and fished it out, it was Dale.

"I called Darren but he's already at the motel, and I think the generator is in his truck", he explained.
"He's already at the motel? We're barely sixty miles in!"
"Yeah, I know", he laughed, "but we need cables or something, that 50 amp single wire alternator isn't keeping up with the Duster, so when we pulled over to dump more fuel in the Gremlin, it wouldn't fire back up."
"Well, I don't know where the cables are, but Rachael has the generator in the Belvedere, and I have the smart charger in the Valiant".
"Great! Can one of you bring them back to us?"
"No, no we can't", I laughed, "because we are using them at this very moment!"
"The alternator plug again? You had one thing to fix all year..."
"Yeah, right", I cut him off, "Tell Rachael where you are, and I'll send her and Dad back as soon as I get them rolling".
I handed my phone to her and explained what was going on to Dad. A few minutes later the Belvedere fired to life and Rachael determined they had to back track about ten miles to help the guys. I decided to go on solo, and I could call them if anything came up.

I was only up the road about twenty miles when I entered the small town of Baltic Ohio, population 795, with one stop sign in the middle of town and a large mill sitting precariously close to the side of the road. I pulled up next to a couple of the large hoppers, and shut off the engine. The gentle, rhythmic hammering of the mill was comforting. I noticed the lights were still on in the garage of an old style gas station across the street. A young man was working under a pick-up truck on the lift, and a young woman was sitting there talking with him, looking at him as if he was her whole life. They were so content in their own little world that they paid me no attention at all. Ah young, small town love, thirty years in my past but I remember it like it was yesterday.

I took a couple of pictures then jumped back in the Valiant, and pulled up to the single stop sign. There were at least ten different large patches of fresh rubber laid down on the asphalt leaving the stop sign and crossing the intersection.
"My buddies left me bread crumbs to find my way", I chuckled to myself as I drove out of town.

Thanks for running with the story Billy.

I successfully navigated from OH-93N to US-250E, and then onto OH-21N in the span of about two miles, then had a thirteen mile run into Massillon Ohio to find checkpoint #1. OH-21 in the dark, with 50 year old lighting was interesting in that it was a fairly small two lane with mature trees and foliage crowding the road. I was happy to see the lights of Massillon come into view. I'm pretty good at the highway changes, but the in town directions screw me up when we are hunting down a specific stop, so once in town, I pulled into the first gas stop I could find. I fueled up first, 7.06 gallons, the math said 12.39 mpgs on that leg. I walked in and grabbed a 24oz coffee/hot chocolate mix and showed my route instructions to the clerk. She pointed me in the right direction, and I jumped back in the Valiant with a quick glance at my phone, 1:50AM, this would not be my last cup of coffee on this leg of the journey.

There were still a couple of kids hanging out at the checkpoint when I arrived, at 2AM on a September Monday night!
"There have been guys pulling in every ten to fifteen minutes all night", they explained to me as I sat waiting for the brothers. I didn't have to wait long as they rolled in about ten minutes later and we were all back together again.
"If Boone only runs those two big electric fans sparingly", Dale explained, "the alternator can keep the battery charged up".
"What temp is the engine at without the fans on", I asked.
"Well, I can see the gauge move a little, so then I kick them on until it drops back down", Boone tried to explain.
"The sending unit is just black taped to the radiator hose", Dale added, "we didn't have the fittings we needed for the Meziere water pump".
I ran my hands through my hair then tossed them up beside my shoulders, "Good grief! So...when the gauge moves?"
"Yep", Boone gave me a toothy smile, "that's what we're rolling with!"


PS. I didn't pay attention to the mural in any way, and now looking at the map I realize we were only about eight miles away from Canton, home of the NFL Hall of Fame...another missed opportunity!