I nominate Billy for a Pulitzer Prize!

The entire SME session took place in an hour and four minutes. A hundred and twenty 10.00 and up cars recorded passes in that time, with a handful making second hits before Lonnie Grimm opened up the third session, and Brian called us to the lanes. Credit for such an efficient use of time goes both to the track operations crew, as well as a group of motivated racers who were ready to hit the road, and had their stuff figured out by day 4!

Rachael and Pops had went up to watch Derik run in the SME session, so when the call went out for us to head to the lanes, we were a little surprised, even though we had all day to be ready. Darren helped me toss the hood on the Valiant, and I followed Dale and the Gremlin up as Boone pulled out behind me in the Ruster.

The pair of 5.9 Cummins racers, Robert Berry in his stick shifted, ratrod 45 Chevy, and Jessie Harris' 80 C-10, made the most memorable pass of the SME session as their spooling antics on the starting line completely fogged in the tower! The runs were just as spectacular as the show though with both of them solidly in the tens.

After a nearly flawless SME performance, the all-run class dumped stuff on the track three sets in! The sun was out and it was warm in the lanes, so we abandoned the cars for some shade in the ditch row. We used it as a brief respite for some comfortable bench racing, but noticed a few of the others catching some serious rest in the early afternoon shade! Rick and Sharma were the first of our group to get a hit in the all-run session and the 11.37-116.98 was the green 71 Dart's best pass of the week.

#33 Teri Skrab White 92 Dodge Spirit R/T
Day 1: 13.68-104.2
Day 2: 13.42-104.5
Day 3: 14.37-99.5
Day 4: 13.00-106.4
Day 5: 12.92-106.4
Final Average 13.481-104.24

David and Teri lowered their 5 day average a half a second, and picked up three mph over their 2016 effort. They also managed to put the little white 4 door in the twelves on the final day. I'm sure that lone bad day at Byron left them wanting a bit more, but it was a solid week for the duo.

#32 Bob Krueger Silver 79 AMC AMX
Day 1: 12.95-107.1
Day 2: 13.04-106.9
Day 3: 13.09-106.7
Day 4: 13.04-106.2
Day 5: 12.91-106.8
Final Average 13.010-106.76

Bob just barely missed a twelve second average with the little 360 powered AMX. The Wisconsin (of course) based Kelvinator appeared to perform flawlessly and the effort was good for 92nd of the 139 Mopar cars that have finished Drag Week all time.

I have no idea how you keep this info straight. Doing two stories at once is more amazing!

I had expected to have the opportunity to watch Dale make his pass in the Gremlin before I had to run, therefore knowing what to shoot for, but they were feeding impound pit cars into his lane so our lane moved ahead of him. I found myself paired with Jay Williams, who lives just ten miles from my Dad in Oklahoma, and has Billy's Step Dad as his co-pilot. The last time Jay and I raced a couple of years ago, he was in his supercharged Nickey Chevrolet Camaro, and I worried about a close race. This year he was in his big, beautiful, blue 64 Pontiac Catalina, and unless the Valiant and I completely fell on our face, the race wouldn't be in doubt. As we pulled up from our burnouts he gave me a wave and I found myself wondering if he takes crap from Pontiac purists for his six pack scoop the same way Mopar guys gripe about cowl hoods!

The image of the wheel stand from Byron was still fresh in my head, so I left pretty conservative. I basically stabbed it off idle and the front tires never even came off the ground, to compound matters, I was well past the 60 foot clocks before I grabbed the nitrous. The Valiant pulled well from there though, and I hit the shift points perfectly. I started feeling a little trepidation at the finish line however, as it took some finesse on the pedal to haul the Valiant down and make the hairpin turn the last time we visited Great Lakes two years earlier, and that had been from 127 NA! 139 was no problem however, as the rear disc conversion once again proved it's worth. I thanked the ticket shack attendant and stole a look at the slip as I idled down the narrow return road. 9.72-139.25, best mph for the Valiant; ever, period! 1.486 sixty foot, slowest ever on a nitrous pass. The back half was only a hundredth slower than the 9.43 at Gateway, but I had given away basically a quarter of a second in the first 330'!

Pic 2. Found this about a month ago while trying to find more pics of Drag Week 2018. Like panning for gold to find a money shot of the Byron wheelie a year and a half later!

Did you beat the Pontiac?

The big poncho ran 11.07-117, so no problem for the Valiant. Luckily the Tin Indian wasn't lined up with Boone two pairs later, as the Ruster Duster limped to an 11.36-122! Had that been a side by side pass Little Billy and Boone would have heard about that one for the next twenty years. I was driving up the return road when I saw Dale cresting the hump coming out of the burn-out box, driver's door held open on the Gremlin, smoke billowing out of the quarters, with the rear end sashaying about as he laid down an excellent hundred and fifty foot smoky burnout. Folks in Union Grove love their Kenosha Cadillacs, and they like a good showman, so the rail birds and those still in the stands were showing him some appreciation as he backed up in his tracks just slightly slower than Arnie "The Farmer" Beswick. I had pulled over in the grass so I could watch and see what he ran and I just chuckled to myself and thought, "darn showoff". Dale has always had a great sense of timing, and I knew right now as he staged the Gremlin in front of the Great Lakes faithful, he was seriously wishing he had a couple of stages with about 400 hp of spray on tap to unleash on the 580. Instead, the Gremlin yanked the front tires a couple inches off the ground and ran an arrow straight 9.54-142.76. I drove back to our pits, contemplating whether I wanted to concede the best week in the family to Dale, or make another run and risk standing it on the bumper again.

Boone had came directly back to our pit, so when I pulled up and parked they already had the hood up on the Duster, both doors open, and the trunk lid off with Darren's truck hooked up to a set of jumper cables.
"What happened?" I shrugged at Boone as he was inside the car doing something behind the seats.
"Nitrous bottle was empty", he explained, "So every time I hit the button, it would just flood the engine with fuel."
"I've got another old 10 pounder over there that is full", I pointed.
"Naw", he shook his head and smiled, "the brackets and the line length are set up for a 15, and I know you have a couple over there!"
"You mean my brand new, only filled once, never scuffed, unmarred, unused bottles that I still carry in their original boxes?"
"Yeah, kinda like your brand new carb I borrowed! So go get one so I can hastily toss it in these cheap metal brackets, and quickly cross thread the bottle nut or line with my two trusty open-end adjustable wrenches here!"
When I returned with the bottle, Rachael and Dale were standing by the Duster talking to Boone. Dale was showing off his 9.54 time slip, but Rachael's face was flush, and she was out of breath, like she had ran to get back to the pits.
"Are you going to make another pass?" She asked me as she pulled Boone's camera off her neck.
"Well, I don't know...I want to catch Dale, (he smiled and waved the slip at me as I mulled over the question) but I don't want to hurt the car again, and I haven't had good luck with the second pass being faster than the first on Drag Week..."
"Good", she cut me off and exhaled with a wry smile, "Because I want to make a pass in the Valiant!"
"Well, OK", I smiled at her, "that works for me!" If she was ready, and comfortable enough to ask for the opportunity to run the car, that far outweighed my desire to beat Dale.
"We better hurry", she explained, "they said they were going to keep the lanes open until three, so we have 55 minutes left, but they are running out of cars...there are only like nine or ten guys who are hot lapping, and everyone else is loading up!"
"You guys need to go up and explain to Lonnie or Sean that I'm back here trying to get ready! Boone explained excitedly, "I can't have them just cut the session off!"
"Well, I wasn't going to make another pass", Dale looked at all of us, "but I guess I can take the Gremlin up there and mill around at the back of the lanes...that way, if they want to call it, they have to at least give me a two minute warning."
"Why don't we just all go up to the lanes, and Boone can finish wrenching on it there?" I shrugged and looked at everyone.
"I don't think Darren's truck with cables attached in the lanes would be a good look for me", Boone shook his head.

"Do you want the pillows to put behind your back?" I asked Rachael before we went up together in the Valiant, "the seat doesn't move, and you may get slid back when it launches and not be able to reach full throttle!"
"No, I'm good", she shook her head, "and I'm just going to wear my single layer jacket."
"Yeah, that's fine", I agreed. "Did you bring your helmet with us?"
"No, I'll just wear yours".
She gave a small jerk when the small block roared to life.
"It's loud with the pipes off", she smiled, and found low gear.
The Valiant idles at 950 rpm, gets great fuel mileage, never fouls a plug, and just leaves a hit of ash grey in the pipes while street driving, but that tune-up leaves it a little lean while uncorked, and means you have to squeeze the gas pedal a little to keep it running while idling through the pits, or quickly shift to neutral when you come to a stop. It's become second nature to me, but after the third time it died on Rachael as she tried to navigate the busy pit lanes (lots of racers were either maneuvering their cars to hook up trailers or leaving the facility) I looked down to see what she was doing wrong.
"Rachael, you can't drive this thing with one foot", I exclaimed, pointing at the floorboard, "Get your left foot up there on the brake and keep your right on the throttle!"
"OK, ok", she shrugged, "It didn't do this last night when I was driving it."
I explained the whole exhaust thing to her and she nodded, we made it to the back of the lanes without the 428 dying again.
"Don't pull right up to the back of the lane", I explained to her, "our plan is to be filler for Boone, so as long as guys are coming around hot lapping, let them go ahead of you".
She nodded, and I jumped out to go explain our plan to Sean Fling who volunteers to direct the back of the lanes.
"Well, if Lonnie decides to call it, it's out of my hands, but I think they would at least give out a last call, or five minute warning before they do that", he explained.

Boone rolled up about ten minutes later, so we all pulled up under the tower. I had been coaching Rachael on racing the Valiant, and after the second time I explained the line lock, she shook her head.
"I'm just going to foot brake it like I do the Belvedere", she smiled, "no time to learn a new routine now." Then she looked up at the overhead electrical panel. "How do I arm the nitrous?"
I laughed and shook my head. "No nitrous for you, I already shut off the bottle!"
She winked at me, "How's a girl supposed to have any fun around here!"
"Now the shutdown here is a little tricky..." I started to explain, but she cut me off.
"Dad! I've made five passes here...three in the Belvedere and two in Darren's Ram, so I think I know whats going on!"
I stepped back from the door and tossed my hands up, "OK then girl...you got this!"
She fired the Valiant and idled up to the water. She barely had smoke off the tires when the rear started coming around to the left and she wisely lifted and just used the distance to the first staging bulbs to get the car straight and in the groove. As soon as she left the line, I knew it had pushed her back and she wasn't at full throttle, at the sixty foot cones she was dead even with the fourteen second Tahoe beside her. She figured it out shortly after that and started motoring for the stripe until an 11.81-124 lit up on the board. Not bad for her first attempt, and I finally exhaled for the first time in about a minute and a half. Dale followed her down with a 9.60-142.42 in the Gremlin that made me think the afternoon heat was making the first 60ft a little greasy.

Rachael and Dale had both ran the left lane, but Boone came up two pairs later in the right lane, and was sent on a solo run. He had a solid burnout, staged the car straight, and unlike Byron, he gave the suspension just a couple of feet to react from the launch before he grabbed the spray. It looked calm, straight and fast until about eighty feet out, when it made a move to the wall at the 1-2 shift. Boone quickly had it back in the groove and everything sounded great until he lifted at about 1100 feet, it had a slight blue haze behind it as it cleared the traps with a 9.85 at only 130.
"What the heck was that?" I asked Darren, who was standing on the line with me, filming with his I-Pad.
"Not a clue", he shook his head, "I didn't hear it missing or anything, just looked like he got out of it!"
Darren headed back to the pits, but I decided to turn in my time slip and get the final route map before I walked all the way back.

Despite the fact that track time was extended an hour due to the morning fog delay, we still had all our stuff loaded up and were ready to head out fairly early for us. Michelle, Will and Derik were long gone, but Rick and Sharma decided to stick around and make the last drive of DW 2017 with us (brave souls). I had only casually glanced at the route sheet, so once Rachael settled into her navigator role, and had both phones at her disposal, I expressed our needs.
"I see they kick us out on I-94 pretty quickly, but we need a gas station before any of us are ready for any highway cruising", I explained.
She just nodded as her thumbs flew across the screen of her phone. We were less than a mile out of the gate when she looked up and provided a solution.
"Nothing between here and I-94, but if you take the second exit off the interstate, there will be a BP on the left side...so about 7 miles if everyone can make it that far!"
"Can you let everyone else know on the group text?"
"Already did, Dad...not my first rodeo!"
I filled the Valiant up on pump swill while Rachael was busy filling everyone's coolers with ice and drinks for the road ahead.
"How far are you going to make it on the batteries?" I asked Boone as he was topping off the Ruster.
He just shrugged, "it's only fifty miles to the first checkpoint, so we will know more about it once we get there, I guess".
I was already in the driver's seat of the Valiant, but Rachael had went back in the store with a fresh shirt to clean up and get ready for the drive, when I heard everyone fire up and head out...apparently they felt confident about making the first checkpoint and weren't going to allow us to run off and leave them!

#31 MaryBeth Kiczenski Blue 95 Eagle Talon
Day 1: 12.76-120.1
Day 2: 12.93-121.0
Day 3: 13.48-115.5
Day 4: 13.11-117.7
Day 5: 12.55-121.7
Final Average 12.968-119.24

With trap speeds comparable to an 11 flat car, it's easy to look at the ET's MaryBeth gets from the little all wheel drive DSM, and ask, "what's wrong?"
The simple answer: Too much traction! The rule requiring "drag tires" on the track actually hurts the delicate balance between tire slip and keeping the rpms and boost where they need to be off the line, so a dead hook situation makes the car far more difficult to drive.
MaryBeth, known as "Talon Girl" on the net, is basically the den mother of the Mopar Turbo Mafia!

We took Illinois State Route 173 (designated the 173rd Airborne Brigade Highway in 2008) shortly after I-94 south took us out of Wisconsin. It was a breathtaking drive through forest preserves and lakefront towns. We get drives like this only two or three times a drag week, sometimes it ten miles, sometimes a hundred, where the car and occupants are happy, the scenery is idyllic and a sense of euphoria settles over you as the small block hammers away at 3k, the side exit exhaust notes bouncing back at you from the trees. Heading due west, we were treated to an amazing sunset that crawled lower as we crested each hill.

The first checkpoint was fifty-four miles in, Bohn's Ace Hardware in the town of Woodstock. The large parking lot was swarming with activity: Drag Week cars jockeying for position to get their picture, locals checking out the machines, as well as a large group that just follow the route. I pulled in and parked beside Dale's Gremlin a row back, and got enough of my car and the store in the picture to satisfy the rules. A huge cheer went up when Dave brought the Monte Smith Performance 66 Vette to a halt directly in front of the entrance of the store, and hopped out for a quick picture. The Canadians seemed genuinely embarrassed and overwhelmed to be the center of such attention, and well wishes, but everyone could feel it...this was going to happen, a monster motored nitrous combo was going to win Drag Week in an era where turbos were dominating!

"My batteries are almost dead again", Boone shrugged, "I need to get it back on the charger for awhile!"
"That's ridiculous, either those batteries are toast from the repeated abuse on that 40 amp Schumacher, or that alternator isn't doing anything at all."
"Could be both", Boone agreed, "last year it would keep up without the headlights on, now I drive fifty miles and need another charge."
"Lets go look around in the Ace Hardware, maybe they will have a small generator we can purchase", I suggested.
We had no luck with that endeavor, but we did find a plug in on the outside wall, so we pushed the Duster over, rolled out the drop cord, and hooked up the battery charger. We were standing around the Duster when Doug Garrison walked up and started talking with us. Doug started the "Drag Weekers" Facebook page after competing in his GTO for a few years, but he was just visiting for one day this year.
"My Sisters and I decided to drive down to checkpoint one and cheer on our buddy Glenn Hunter in the Pro Rat 56 Chevy", Doug explained, "but his Jesel timing belt failure turned out to be fatal, so he's out!"
"Wow, I saw him working on it in the impound pits, but I thought he had it under control!"
"He got the belt replaced, but the pistons had kissed a few valves!" He smiled and shrugged, "that's Drag Week, three days of battling at the top of your class to DNF in one bad moment!"
I turned to Boone after Doug had moved on, "That means Matt Blasco and the Dirty Drag Week Dart entered today with the possibility of dropping to fourth in class, and now he's solidly in second!"
"Yeah, I heard Lohnes announce that Hunter was out earlier today but you must've missed it, now if McGilton falters in any way..."
"C'mon Boone! McGilton and Larson have that ZL-1 Camaro flying! They set a class record in ET today, and have been on the doorstep of 200 MPH twice this week!"
"My point exactly", Boone shrugged, "that's not the way Larson amassed seven wins with the Nova, quite a few of those wins came when he did just enough to beat the guy in second place, without pushing the car hard!"
"So...you think McGilton's ego is writing checks the Camaro can't cash?"
"I just think he's opening the door to that possibility, I mean, all he needs tomorrow is about a 9.18 to claim the win if Matt runs his average, so lets see if he comes out on the first run and takes it easy, or if he comes out and takes another swipe at 200!"

Dale came walking over with all the rest of our entourage, so Boone and I looked up to see what they had planned.
"We want to stop someplace nice and get something to eat", Dale began.
"C'mon Man!" I interrupted him, "we're actually making good time...let's just hammer out the last 150 miles and get some good sleep for once!"
He shrugged and smiled, "You're the one who always says we are supposed to make memories on these adventures, let's sample the local fare and enjoy the moment!"
"So...are we just going to leave the Duster here hooked up to the charger, unattended?" Boone asked, looking at the gathered group.
"Why not?" Darren jabbed Dale in the ribs, "Who is going to steal a car that can't even keep it's own batteries charged?"
"No..now listen", Dale continued undeterred, "I talked to a kid who was admiring the Gremlin at our last fuel stop, he'd been watching us at the track all day, and he explained that his Dad had several businesses in this town, including a nice restaurant/bar, and if we called, they'd roll out the welcome mat for us".
"Define 'kid'?" I questioned Dale.
"Eighteen to twenty-two...ish", Dale shrugged.
"What's the name of the place?" Rachael questioned, bringing her phone up to enter the data.
"The Red Mill Tavern", Dale answered.
"It has really good reviews", Rachael nodded.
"Perhaps you should call the place, and see if they have a spot where we can plug in the Duster while we eat...maybe the kid was exaggerating about the 'welcome mat' a little".
Rachael punched the number in, handed the phone to Dale, and he stepped away from us for a couple of minutes. When he came back over to us, he had a big smile on his face.
"Okay...it's all set up. He's going to clear a spot for us to all park in the back of the lot nearest to the big verandah where all the bikers congregate, socialize, and drink".
"Clear a spot?" I whistled, "That's a heck of a welcome mat, guess the kid wasn't lying!"
Dale chuckled, "He said it wouldn't be for free though..."
"And now the other shoe drops", Boone shook his head.
"Yeah, when we are ready to leave we have to provide some entertainment for his regulars in the form of water burnouts in the parking lot!"
"I'm all for burnouts", Rick laughed, "but did you tell him we have to keep our nose clean in these little towns...last thing we need is unwanted attention from the police!"
"I did", Dale nodded, "and he explained that he was also the Mayor of Woodstock, so that wouldn't be a problem!"
"Niko's Red Mill Tavern it is then!" Rachael exclaimed.
"Regulators mount up!" Darren declared, followed by a hearty laugh.

#30 Marty Gorman Purple 72 Plymouth Valiant
Day 1: 12.53-110.7
Day 2: 12.61-108.9
Day 3: 12.83-107.9
Day 4: 13.14-107.2
Day 5: 13.14-107.7
Final Average: 12.791-108.49

I don't know what goals Marty had when he made the trip from Canada, but by all accounts, the team thoroughly enjoyed the adventure, and finished on their first attempt, so that checks all the boxes as far as I can see! The effort placed them 17th out of 35 competitors in the super tough Small Block Street Race NA class, and the small block A-body's best run of 12.53-110 put the Valiant 88th out of the 138 Mopars that have finished Drag Week all time.

The Red Mill Tavern was really a nice place, great ambiance and a beautiful blonde waitress with a great attitude, personality, and above all, an unrivaled competence and understanding of her job. She warned us that the "Fire Rigatoni Chicken" was indeed quite spicy, but that didn't stop four of our party of eight from ordering it. The dish was similar to what you might get at Olive Garden, but nearly double the size, and the creamy Alfredo sauce was almost orange. The pleasant heat built as the meal progressed until we were going through a glass of iced tea every ten minutes towards the end.
It was a very enjoyable hour and a half of great company and great food with plenty of stories and laughter exchanged, but finally it was time to pay the bill...and pay the bill!
When we walked out to get in our cars, we were greeted by the restaurant owner/mayor and his son in the parking lot. The Mayor was manning a hundred foot water hose they had rolled out from a maintenance shed, and his son had his phone out to record the whole affair. All the patrons were crowded up against the near side rail, ready for some action. Boone and the Ruster did his burnout first, then rolled out to the exit and back on course, not wanting to waste any time on his batteries waiting for us. Dale and the Gremlin were next, then Rachael motioned me up in the water as I had explained to her that I wanted to be at the trailing edge of the puddle. I held the 428 at 5800 for about 15 seconds, let go of the line lock, rolled out about ten feet before lifting, then I pulled the Valiant up behind Dale. Rachael stayed back to help Rick and Sharma line the Dart up in the water, and Rick did a crazy, John Force style burnout, where he was still rolling smoke out when he flew by the right of Dale and I.
"That was a pretty wimpy burnout, Dad!" Rachael greeted me when she crawled back in the passenger's side of the Valiant.
"What do you mean?" I shrugged, and gave her a disgusted look, "It felt fine to me".
"Definitely the worst of the four", she shook her head, "almost embarrassing!"
"Now you're just jerking my chain", I shook my head.
"Oh! So my opinion doesn't matter when it differs from yours?" The look, the question, and the voice inflection were all straight out of her mama's playbook. I opened my mouth to speak, but thirty-three years of marriage had taught me a few lessons, so I swallowed the words. Rick and Sharma headed out on the road, but Dale was still talking to the owner's son, so it was a few minutes later before we followed the Gremlin out onto the street.

The number one goal when we came down from Canada was just to finish Drag Week, I didn’t want to put all the effort into putting the back car together only to be break on the first day and end up spending the week watching from the stands. It was a really fun trip and to make it more interesting my brother and a friend of his rode their street bikes down from Winnipeg and followed us throughout the week, they stopped at every road side attraction and micro-brewery they could find to try the product each day and may have had an even better time than Mike and myself.
For the most part the biggest issue we had was that the car stared using a ton of oil on the second day but we managed to keep it going with a few spark plug swaps as well as changing the intake gaskets on the third night of the event. This oil consumption slowed the car from the 12:40’s it was running back a few weeks before at the track in Gimli Manitoba but I really didn’t care as the goal was only to finish. I was still nice to finish mid pack in our class which was really exactly where I figured the car should end up based on the 2016 times in that class.
I will definitely be back for another Drag Week next time it comes back to the Chicago area, the only thing is I will probably let my nephew who is turning 16 this year and his friend drive the car…and I’ll spend the days stopping at the micro-breweries…

Rachael and I had only driven a few miles, and she was already staring at the google map intently.
"You're going to take a left at this next street", she declared.
"No..no I'm not", I shook my head and continued straight on IL-47S.
"You missed our turn... now it's recalculating", she pointed at the phone.
I pulled over on the shoulder, and breathed in, then released a deep sigh. "Where is your route sheet?"
I waited while she rifled around with a small flash light on her side of the car until she found it. Dale had only been about a 1/2 mile ahead of us in the Gremlin, and I watched helplessly as he disappeared over the next hill.
"What does it say after the first checkpoint", I questioned her as she placed the sheet on her lap and held the light over it.
"Huh...it says we stay on IL-47S for at least twenty-six more miles."
"Same thing you did to Michelle on day one, you have to reset the google map after we pass a checkpoint or it will try to re-route us back again!"
"Yeah", she shook her head, "you're right...sorry."
"Can we get back to the journey ahead of us now...please?"
"Carry on, my Captain!" She motioned with a sweeping gesture towards the open road, "jerk...it was still a weak burnout!"

We drove about ten more miles, and she pointed out that the Dart and the Ruster had been pulled into a station we just passed on the right.
"Didn't see the Gremlin, so he must still be in front of us. Little early for gas, we're only about sixty miles into this tank!"
We covered another eight miles, and saw a line of about six Drag Week cars pulled over onto the shoulder. The road was pretty dark in that area, so even though I slowed to about thirty, I only really made out the first two cars.
"We aren't going to stop?"
"Naw", I shook my head, "I saw a few thumbs up, and with that many guys already there, if they can't fix it, we probably wouldn't be able to either!"
"Who was it?"
"Jason Tabscott in the Camaro with the hood up", I explained to Rachael, "and then Randy Flanklin's 64 Skylark behind him, but I didn't make out anybody else."

"We're going to make a right on Plank Road up here in a few miles", Rachael informed me.
"How far into the route does that put us?"
"Eighty miles", she confirmed.
"Ok, I'm going to pull into this BP up ahead and fuel up", I explained.
"We can go a hundred and ten on a tank, usually, sometimes more", Rachael smiled at me, "so now who is stopping early?"
"I know, but it seems like nothing has gone well since we ate...i just need to get out of the car, stretch my legs, and hit the reset button."
"You hafta poop!"
"Dear Lord!" I shook my head, "I can't take you anywhere!"
She was still laughing uncontrollably when we pulled up to the pump.


#29 Ronald Maguire Black 69 Dodge Dart
Day 1: 12.70-107.4
Day 2: 12.25-110.1
Day 3: 12.66-98.1
Day 4: 12.18-112.7
Day 5: 12.31-110.3
Final Average: 12.426-107.76

Ron was fellow Canadian Ross' trunk monkey for a few years, and that usually sets the hook pretty deep. I don't have all the stats on how many co-pilots end up participating with their own cars, but the numbers are pretty high. The 340 powered A-body represented well despite a rough start and an early lift on Wednesday which easily took a couple tenths off the final average.

Jason Tabscott and his daughters were having a rough Thursday on Drag Week, the NA small block in their 70 Camaro had went big time lean for no apparent reason on the last pass at Great Lakes.The problem had cost them a tenth of ET to second place Paul Cornman's 71 Demon, so now they had no margin for error on the final day! After the run he had taken extra time to check the engine out thoroughly, compression, leak down, new plugs, run the valves. As such, they were among the last to leave the facility, and by the time they arrived at checkpoint one, it was a ghost town. Their luck went from bad to worse when the two middle header tubes on the drivers side cracked and broke loose from the flange, apparently turned super brittle during the lean condition. He had made several calls to local welders and roadside mechanics and one agreed that he could come out at five in the morning. It was an option, since racing starts later on Friday, but not a very good one. He and Randy Franklin, who had been hanging out with them all day, were discussing options, when the little white Gremlin from the Gebhart family pulled up behind them and shut off the engine.
He showed Dale and Dylan the problem, and explained his options up to this point.
"Maybe you're in luck Jason", Dale laughed, "my trunk monkey here is a welder/fabricator who builds headers, and we just ate at a restaurant where the owner claims to also own a complete welding and repair shop...he gave me his number and told me to call if we needed any help, so let's find out if he was sincere!"
Jason couldn't believe his ears, he'd heard all the tales of last minute saves from complete strangers, but this one would be one for the books if it worked out...he waited with nervous anticipation as Dale made the phone call.
Dale hung up after only a short conversation then turned to Jason.
"Ok, it's all set up! They will meet you and Dylan at a place called JC Heavy Equipment Repair and Welding, here's the address, and they will have the lights on and the welder warmed up when you get there!"
Shortly after Dylan, Jason, and the header were loaded up in Randy's Buick and on the way back to town, Boone pulled the Duster into the back of the line. Once Dale explained what was going on he decided to go ahead and get down the road, figuring Dale would catch him soon enough when they had to charge the batteries again.


Boone made it twenty miles further down the road, then came upon Rick and Sharma, with the hood up on the Dart, pulled over in an abandoned gas station.
They were getting ready to leave when Sharma looked Boone over with obvious concern, "You look wasted...how long can you to continue to drive?"
"Well, if Billy will stay awake and talk to me, I'll probably be alright...but he usually falls asleep five minutes into the drive, once it's dark!"
"You should let him ride with me in the Dart", Sharma volunteered, "and let Rick drive the Ruster, so you can get an hour or so of rest!"
Boone accepted the offer, and was just about completely out when he was startled by the sound of the car going down a gravel road. He looked out the windshield to see the Dart in front of them, then looked over at Rick, "What's going on?"
"I don't know", Rick shot back with an exasperated look on his face, "we were running down the highway just fine, and she suddenly slowed, turned on her blinker, then pulled off on this!"
With Billy asleep, Sharma had no help with the route sheet, so she was trusting her phone's google map, and like Rachael, she hadn't reset it, so it was trying to turn them back to the first checkpoint. It took considerable effort to get the Ruster turned around in a farmer's driveway as they had to disconnect the trailer and push it around by hand.
Finally Boone fell into a deep sleep, but the reverie only lasted about fifteen minutes when the unmistakable sound of a broken rocker arm in a Mopar penetrated his consciousness.
"Oh crap!" Rick looked at him wild eyed as he quickly jumped to the shoulder and shut off the 512, "I was only at 2800, and it sounded fine right before that!"
"Well...we went to a roller cam this year, with quite a bit more spring pressure, so I wondered if those ancient Racer Brown aluminum rockers were going to hold up!"
"Did you bring spares?"
"Yeah, we brought Dad's 1.6 Crane Golds...but they are actually in one of Dale's boxes on the back of the Gremlin!"
He tried to call Dale, but there was no answer. Five minutes later the sound of lightly muffled Drag Week cars came down the road, and it wasn't long before Dale, Jason, Randy, and Darren were all lined up on the shoulder behind the Ruster.

Dale had the passenger's side rockers and shaft off fairly quickly, and Darren was shining a light into the head, trying to locate the lost push rod.
"I can see it right there", Darren pointed, "but there is no way I can get in that spot to grab it".
For some reason, maybe just boredom, Jason's 17 year old Daughter Ashley was taking a keen interest in the project. "I've got small hands" she announced, "I bet I can reach in there!"
She had snaked in between Dale and Darren and shot her slender wrist into the opening before either of my brothers could warn her. She brought the offending push rod out quickly, then yelped and dropped it on the fender. "That thing is really hot", she exclaimed.
A few of the onlookers laughed, but Darren was quite concerned, turning the light to look at her hand.
"That engine was running down the road just five minutes ago, honey", Jason shook his head, "You have to think about things like that!"
Dale took the rocker shaft and the spares over to a blanket in front of the car and started to disassemble it. He brought out the spares and his extra shims to make sure everything lined up, Ashley sat down beside him and cleaned each part before handing them back to him for the re-assembly, he explained to her carefully what each part of the rocker system did, and why it had to be assembled in that way. Once he had it back together and ready for adjustment on the engine, Dale realized he had a problem. Any Mopar guy knows the sweep between a Racer Brown rocker and a Crane Gold aren't remotely the same, and what he really needed was a longer push rod, but all his spares were for 440 based engines, not a low deck. He dug through several boxes, but had no lash caps either.
Finally he looked up at the group standing around and just asked, "anyone have any spare lash caps?"
"What diameter", Jason asked him.
"11/32".
"Actually...I think I do", Jason nodded, then ran off to find the right box of parts.
With the offered lash cap in place, Dale was able to satisfactorily adjust the Crane Gold rocker, and the entire group was able to set off in search of checkpoint two a little after midnight.

https://www.hotrod.com/articles/hot-rod-drag-week-archive-times-results-2005-2018/

You got some credit for keeping track of dragweek results

At nearly the same time my unfortunate band of brothers were returning to the road, Rachael and I rolled into Casey's General Store in Rock Falls IL. We didn't need fuel yet, but I was in desperate need of a 24 ounce coffee and chocolate, and since we were within a few miles of checkpoint two, I wanted to make sure Rachael's phone GPS and the route sheet were in agreement. It was an odd arrangement for a checkpoint, as the bridge over the Rock River separating Rock Falls and Sterling was First Avenue-IL 40. Immediately after crossing the bridge, however, First Avenue continued on as a residential street while State Route IL 40 jogged to the left one block onto Locust Street. The Maple Pancake House we were looking for was supposed to be on 5th Ave, which placed it even further into a very old, well established residential neighborhood with narrow streets and distinct minimum of street lights!

Rachael and I were feeling our way through this neighborhood at twenty mph, at 12:30 on a Thursday night, listening to the sounds of the side exit exhaust bouncing off each house we passed, and hoping that we weren't the last straw for some weary first shifter who had to be up at 5AM to get to work. We drove down 5th Street, but honestly the lighting was so bad it felt like we had zero chance of finding it. Suddenly, as we approached the next intersection, a guy came out of his yard about a half a block down, waving a flashlight and yelling at us.
"What do we do?" Rachael asked
"He hasn't started shooting yet, so maybe we are OK", I stuck the shifter in reverse and pushed the transbrake button just in case.
Finally I could make out that he was telling us we just missed it and needed to back up to the next intersection. I obliged him and began backing up immediately, so as to lesson any chance of confrontation.
As we got the Valiant back to the next corner, another gentleman was in the completely dark parking lot, and turned a huge handheld spotlight onto the Pancake House sign. It was just high enough that our headlights would have never found it!
I shut the Valiant off, got out and thanked him for his help.
"There was another guy at the end of the block with a flashlight too", Rachael added.
The young fellow seemed a bit winded, and sucked in a few breaths before replying.
"Him and I have been out here since it turned dark helping all the racers find this place, but it had been a solid twenty minutes without a car, so we decided to head home and call it a night! I was almost to my front door when I heard you rumbling down the street!"
As soon as he got the words out, Adam Hodson and his Team 260 entourage entered the parking lot with three more Drag Week Cars, obviously drawn to the spotlighted sign like moths to a flame.
"I'm going to guess there will be another twenty or so cars that haven't made it yet, but don't feel obliged to stick it out", I told him.
He smiled and shook his head, "What the heck, I don't have to work tomorrow anyway!"

#28 Radar Watkins Purple 70 Plymouth Sport Fury
Day 1: 12.31-111.5
Day 2: 12.38-111.1
Day 3: 12.46-110.7
Day 4: 12.34-111.3
Day 5: 12.50-110.8
Final Average: 12.401-111.10

How do i explain this...Radar and the big purple C-body have shown up for and completed six Drag Weeks. The Plymouth's first pass in 2006 was 12.39 and in the Eleven years since, all the passes have been between 12.01 and 12.55. It would be easy to ask how someone made no changes to pick it up in that length of time, but it's also important to recognize the amount of work it takes to keep a low 12 second Pro Street boat in tip top condition over that same span of time!

It doesn't really matter what the time slips say, the big Sport Fury is Drag Week royalty and that's no joke. Photographers and Fans can't stay away from it, and it's one of the few cars that gathers a crowd just to watch the slightly built Radar unload the trunk when he arrives at the track!