Old Guys Racin'
01-06-2005, 11:49 AM
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Old Guys Racin' Old Guys Racin'
________________________________________
Look, I'm 42 and have decided that I’m officially an old guy. I have conceded that my next pair of glasses will be bi-focal, as opposed to the single vision glasses that I have been wearing for nearly 40 years now. Being a computer nerd also, I am glad to see two of my favorite interest joining together, computers and hot rods. And this has bred the popular Automotive Forum. Where wit and wisdom can be exchanged between youth and mature, novice and sage in a conversational format known as the post. I read these post and some of the things that are said never cease to amaze me. Now you guys in your 20's wont understand where I'm coming from, but hopefully the gray heads out there will.
I must preface what I am about to say by stating the following, I do not condone street racing of any kind. People licensed to drive on public roads should obey all traffic laws and posted traffic signs. With that said, drag racing starts from a standing start with either a flagman (or flag chick, which I prefer) or at a stoplight, not from a 20 mile per hour roll-on. And it continues for the prescribed distance of somewhere around a quarter mile. Measured by counting approximately five standard wood telephone poles. Where either a painted line or the headlights of a car parked perpendicular to the path of racing was parked. First to break the beam of light won. Straight up run what you brung drag racing. This is also something done away for other non-combatants out on a lonely stretch of road.
The recently pulled GTO commercial where the GTO waits through two signals for a worthy opponent to line up next to him...that’s great. It harkens back to the days where this hobby of who's got the faster car first started. I imagine that it was pulled due to the fact that it insinuated an illegal activity. Did you know that in the early part of the 1900's the only two registered cars in the whole state of Ohio crashed,.....because they were racing each other.
I drive a 2000 Camaro SS that has a few modifications to release a little more potential for greater horsepower that is available in the LS-1 V-8. Between the exhaust modifications and the SS badge and its lowered stance, it would seem that to just about everybody out there the SS badge means “race me”. The fact that I can be classified as and aggressive driver, in that by definition if I’m driving I’m racing, I probably bring a lot of the race challenges upon myself.
As I have noted before I am not an advocate of street racing, however, things of this type have been known to happen to me from time to time. I admit I am weak, but the feeling of the hook-up and that nasty little twist the car makes as it hits second right in the fat part of the power band. This is what we drive for, not to get from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’. But for the seat of the pants, low gut feeling that we get changing either gears or direction.
The other morning I was on my way to work, as usual I dropped my lovely wife off at her office because sometimes we carpool together. Living in Southern California has its requirements, some of them are nice ones like having to carpool with my lovely wife. After kissing her goodbye and wishing her a good day I went out on the boulevard to start my trek towards my office. To get back to the freeway I have to exit the driveway and go into the left turn lane t make a u-turn. This is a very busy little stretch of road with several stoplights that are a few hundred feet apart and are between me and the freeway which is my immediate goal.
Now to get to where I need to be I have to shoot across several lanes of traffic to jump into the left hand turn lane next to the concrete island that I have wished so many times was not there. I do so looking over my left shoulder as usual looking for the umpteenth soulless mini van to come up the hill and impede my forward progress. It seem that today is my lucky day, there is a large enough gap in traffic to allow me to shoot over to the turn lane with no other commuters waiting for the turn. As I sit there in the turn lane listening to morning talk radio and laughing at the latest wackiness that the D.J. is embarking on, when I look to the traffic on the intersecting street. Particularly the left turn lane of the opposing street. Because there about two cars back sits a white and blue fox bodied Cobra with, you guessed it, an old guy like me driving it.
His light turns green, and the long string of commuters starts making the turn onto the street that I will soon be making a u-turn on. After I get the green arrow in my direction, this will put the Cobra and myself facing the same way with just a few cars separating us. How fortunate! I get the green arrow and make my u-turn. Sure enough I find my self framed by the driver’s side mirror of the Fox-body. I look up and yes, he saw me and I imagine noticed the NACA scoop on the hood of my SS, along with the low deep thump-thump of the exhaust.
Now like I said on the part of this 8 lane (4 in each direction) there are like five stoplights between where we sit and the freeway we wish to get on. The light in fornt of us turns green and all of the other mundane commuters go about their merry way, as the Cobra and I calmly cruise up to the next light. Damn I'm ahead of him now buy one car. This light turns green and I start to move. I see the Cobra hesitate for a few seconds, then I think to myself "what’s he doing?" Then his plan comes clear to me. The Cobra makes an aggressive move behind me and over to my drivers side because the mope in the Buick Regal made a left hand turn at the next light.
We come to a stop at the next red light. Both cars front wheels on the limit line. You see my dear readers because we are old guys there are several things we don’t do. We sit in our seats with the seat backs up, we do not glare at each other. We both look forward, we do not throw rev's at one another (the automotive equivalent of chest butting). We wait patiently and watch the street light. There it is the opposing light just went yellow, time to pay attention. One can hear the revs of both cars go up anticipating the soon to change green light. The opposing lanes yellow light just went out and the red has come on, another half of a second....and......the light goes green. Brake foot up, Gas foot down, we both look up and a few hundred yards in front of us we both see it at the same time......at the next light waiting for it to turn the black rear of a Crown Vic and the words,
"CALIFORNIA HIGHWAY PATROL"
written across the trunk lid in large gold leaf lettering.
We looked at each other...nodded and went on our merry ways.
You see sometimes its not the kill but the anticipation of the race that makes the experience worthwhile.
________________________________________
Look, I'm 42 and have decided that I’m officially an old guy. I have conceded that my next pair of glasses will be bi-focal, as opposed to the single vision glasses that I have been wearing for nearly 40 years now. Being a computer nerd also, I am glad to see two of my favorite interest joining together, computers and hot rods. And this has bred the popular Automotive Forum. Where wit and wisdom can be exchanged between youth and mature, novice and sage in a conversational format known as the post. I read these post and some of the things that are said never cease to amaze me. Now you guys in your 20's wont understand where I'm coming from, but hopefully the gray heads out there will.
I must preface what I am about to say by stating the following, I do not condone street racing of any kind. People licensed to drive on public roads should obey all traffic laws and posted traffic signs. With that said, drag racing starts from a standing start with either a flagman (or flag chick, which I prefer) or at a stoplight, not from a 20 mile per hour roll-on. And it continues for the prescribed distance of somewhere around a quarter mile. Measured by counting approximately five standard wood telephone poles. Where either a painted line or the headlights of a car parked perpendicular to the path of racing was parked. First to break the beam of light won. Straight up run what you brung drag racing. This is also something done away for other non-combatants out on a lonely stretch of road.
The recently pulled GTO commercial where the GTO waits through two signals for a worthy opponent to line up next to him...that’s great. It harkens back to the days where this hobby of who's got the faster car first started. I imagine that it was pulled due to the fact that it insinuated an illegal activity. Did you know that in the early part of the 1900's the only two registered cars in the whole state of Ohio crashed,.....because they were racing each other.
I drive a 2000 Camaro SS that has a few modifications to release a little more potential for greater horsepower that is available in the LS-1 V-8. Between the exhaust modifications and the SS badge and its lowered stance, it would seem that to just about everybody out there the SS badge means “race me”. The fact that I can be classified as and aggressive driver, in that by definition if I’m driving I’m racing, I probably bring a lot of the race challenges upon myself.
As I have noted before I am not an advocate of street racing, however, things of this type have been known to happen to me from time to time. I admit I am weak, but the feeling of the hook-up and that nasty little twist the car makes as it hits second right in the fat part of the power band. This is what we drive for, not to get from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’. But for the seat of the pants, low gut feeling that we get changing either gears or direction.
The other morning I was on my way to work, as usual I dropped my lovely wife off at her office because sometimes we carpool together. Living in Southern California has its requirements, some of them are nice ones like having to carpool with my lovely wife. After kissing her goodbye and wishing her a good day I went out on the boulevard to start my trek towards my office. To get back to the freeway I have to exit the driveway and go into the left turn lane t make a u-turn. This is a very busy little stretch of road with several stoplights that are a few hundred feet apart and are between me and the freeway which is my immediate goal.
Now to get to where I need to be I have to shoot across several lanes of traffic to jump into the left hand turn lane next to the concrete island that I have wished so many times was not there. I do so looking over my left shoulder as usual looking for the umpteenth soulless mini van to come up the hill and impede my forward progress. It seem that today is my lucky day, there is a large enough gap in traffic to allow me to shoot over to the turn lane with no other commuters waiting for the turn. As I sit there in the turn lane listening to morning talk radio and laughing at the latest wackiness that the D.J. is embarking on, when I look to the traffic on the intersecting street. Particularly the left turn lane of the opposing street. Because there about two cars back sits a white and blue fox bodied Cobra with, you guessed it, an old guy like me driving it.
His light turns green, and the long string of commuters starts making the turn onto the street that I will soon be making a u-turn on. After I get the green arrow in my direction, this will put the Cobra and myself facing the same way with just a few cars separating us. How fortunate! I get the green arrow and make my u-turn. Sure enough I find my self framed by the driver’s side mirror of the Fox-body. I look up and yes, he saw me and I imagine noticed the NACA scoop on the hood of my SS, along with the low deep thump-thump of the exhaust.
Now like I said on the part of this 8 lane (4 in each direction) there are like five stoplights between where we sit and the freeway we wish to get on. The light in fornt of us turns green and all of the other mundane commuters go about their merry way, as the Cobra and I calmly cruise up to the next light. Damn I'm ahead of him now buy one car. This light turns green and I start to move. I see the Cobra hesitate for a few seconds, then I think to myself "what’s he doing?" Then his plan comes clear to me. The Cobra makes an aggressive move behind me and over to my drivers side because the mope in the Buick Regal made a left hand turn at the next light.
We come to a stop at the next red light. Both cars front wheels on the limit line. You see my dear readers because we are old guys there are several things we don’t do. We sit in our seats with the seat backs up, we do not glare at each other. We both look forward, we do not throw rev's at one another (the automotive equivalent of chest butting). We wait patiently and watch the street light. There it is the opposing light just went yellow, time to pay attention. One can hear the revs of both cars go up anticipating the soon to change green light. The opposing lanes yellow light just went out and the red has come on, another half of a second....and......the light goes green. Brake foot up, Gas foot down, we both look up and a few hundred yards in front of us we both see it at the same time......at the next light waiting for it to turn the black rear of a Crown Vic and the words,
"CALIFORNIA HIGHWAY PATROL"
written across the trunk lid in large gold leaf lettering.
We looked at each other...nodded and went on our merry ways.
You see sometimes its not the kill but the anticipation of the race that makes the experience worthwhile.
01-06-2005, 12:18 PM
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That was actually a nice story, though the ending was a little disappointing. Sounds fun nonetheless 
Maybe you will get to run him for real someday, if that is what you wish to do, shall the opportunity present itself again.
Maybe you will get to run him for real someday, if that is what you wish to do, shall the opportunity present itself again. 
Man, when your wife asks, "How was your day, honey?" I'll bet it's a 30 minute answer. 
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01-07-2005, 11:16 AM
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Originally Posted by BowtieBear
...You see sometimes its not the kill but the anticipation of the race that makes the experience worthwhile. ...
Take care young man.
