Spring of 1976 and I was proud of myself for disassembling, then reassembling the 429 SCJ engine in my Mach 1. Had engine installed, all bolts and nuts correctly torqued, plumbed and wired. Essentially ready to twist the key and fire it up. Engine cranks over, sputters a few times, but refuses to start. Now I'm getting pissed and teaching my then 13 year old brother some new language when he innocently asks me "Are those lock washers supposed to be between the carb and intake manifold?" Yup, I had left them on the intake so I wouldn't lose them, and promptly forgot to remove them before dropping the carb on. Ten minutes later the engine was warming up to operating temp so I could set the valves correctly. Another time with the same car I decided it would be smart to adjust the valves while the engine was running. Yeah...no. That's when I learned the correct method. Still have that "massaged" feeler gauge somewhere. One more about that Mach 1. Was out one Saturday night cruising the local main drag looking for any action. Nothing around as it was unusually dead. Two slower cars soon caught up to me at a light, and they decided to race. Did this a few more times, but I didn't bite. Finally after the 4th or 5th time I was going to show them some tail lights. With one on each side, light turns green and I dump the clutch at 3 grand, blowing both away before I hit third. Suddenly we get lit up from behind! Quickly turned left down a residential street, hid behind a few parked cars and killed engine and lights. Sat there for several minutes thinking of excuses for my behavior. Fortunately the cops didn't seek me out, and after ten minutes I quietly and carefully began driving home.
It's around 1992 ish. I grew up a mile from a now defunct greyhound track that I worked at for close to 15 years. Like any business regulated by state government, it was also staffed with state employees - some of which were troopers. I'd been there for a long time and was very friendly with quite a few of them. This job had a fair amount of downtime, so we'd always have time to chat. At the time, I had my old, Fire Red 1972 Stage 1 that ran consistent low 12's at New England Dragway in NH. It was the "nice weather" driver, that I may or may not have "attached plates" to from time to time. Here in MA, that basically means you're slapping a plate on a car that's not registered. I was just 20 and the dog track life consisted of working at a place that was flourishing in the gambling market - before casinos popped up in New England - and also the partying life, which prerequisite for track life. There were a couple establishments very close to where I lived that were very "lax" in terms of serving alcohol. One of which was a Chinese place called China Garden that was also known as Kinda-Garden, due to the amount of underage people who could get served booze. One night after work, I had the GS and met a couple friends at Kinda-Garden for some beverages. Clearly not the best idea for a 20 year old, or anyone for that matter. A couple beers and a scorpion bowl later, it was time to head home. The restaurant was on a strip of road that you could really open things up on. I pulled out of the parking lot and absolutely hammered it, burning rubber all the way into 3rd gear. Man, that car would really roast the tires with little effort. I get home, brush my teeth and head to bed. 2 minutes later, the doorbell rings - at 1:15 am. Of course, my mother never sleeps, so she's up answering the door. She then comes to my room to wake me up, asking me why there's a state trooper at the door. Next thing I know, I'm on the deck in my boxer shorts, talking to the same state trooper I had worked with earlier that night who's inquiring as to why my car wasn't registered. He said I went by him sideways but recognized the car (and apparently the plate) from the track. Dealing with him was a breeze compared to dealing with mom after he left.
I was going to say ex-delinquents, but that wouldn't be entirely true. There may or may not have been a series of burnouts done recently in a Winn Dixie parking lot, in someone else's Mustang rental car... Now if you get caught, the law enforcement officer expects you to know better.
1980s. Leavin a party, wet night. I thought I'd spin the wheels in my Gemini (the blue car on the left of my avatar) . Went to peel out and do a 180. Ended up doing a 360 and ended up about a foot from where I started. Fast forward a few years, another Gemini, on an off camber roundabout, wet again. This time I wasn't even trying. and did a near 180. No contact either time.
I was 22, lived away from home during college but was still visiting my parents and bringing Buick’s home to store there which I’m sure they loved! I found this 35,000 mile 73 Century for $400 as it had a rusted out roof under the vinyl and ruined interior from leaking water in. The day I got the car happened to be a holiday so I drove it 100 miles home including a ferry ride, no license plate even as the registry was closed. I parked the car on the ferry and the next guy pulled up behind me me and informed me that I had no licence plate on my car! I thought quick and ran to the back of the car shocked! “What the heck someone stole my plate!!!!!”. Once home I gave the car the 4 hour tune up consisting of a New in the sealed bag NOS Q jet, new plugs, caps, rotor, Larry timing curve, sawzall off the exhaust at the Y pipe, and test drive. By the time the cops came to my house I had the engine pulled out and on a stand still hot LOL . The tow truck was leaving with my car to head to the scrap yard as they pulled in my yard, but they let it go. I took that 350 engine apart and man it was like brand new, 35,000 miles confirmed. I eventually sold the crank to a friend as he was needing a virgin crank to offset grind into a 370 cube stroker.
Back in the mid 90's I built my first hotrod Buick. we had a performance parts house in town known as SuperShops. Well those guys made commission on stuff they sold and they sold me anything and everything that would fit my Buick including a Super PowerShot Nitrous system. Well after everything thing was installed and i had tested the W.O.T switch etc I wanted to start the engine but hadn't finished all the wiring yet so I ran a jumper wire to the ignition box. I turned the key to the start position and the engine came to life. It went straight to the 6000 rpm rev limiter setting. I quickly turned the key off but the engine stayed running and it was LOUD!! I panic and ran out of the garage thinking it was going to blow to smithereens any second but it iust kept screaming along. Finally after about 30 seconds it dawned on me why it didnt shut off. I carefully inched alongside the car until I could reach the jumper wire and yanked that damn wire off. The engine stopped so fast it threw every belt off and the alternator was still spinning. Every person on the culdesac was outside looking to see what was going on.. my car buddies still tease me about it and ask if they can come over and watch me start Butterface. Turns out the secondary linkage of the Q-jet got hung up under the Nitrous W.O.T switch and held the secondaries wide open.
1991, 30 miles east of Athens, Ga around midnight, I and three friends were headed back to school on a beer run to Campton (where you could buy beer late, after the bars and stores had closed in Athens). Headed down a hill, top down in a ‘64 Skylark convertible, on a wet road after rain, I realized too late that this was a sharp turn, so I tried to steer without braking. Rear came out to the left until I was perpindicular, then a 180, another 180, and a 360 without leaving the road or spilling a beer. Slid to a stop, engine stalled, and lights are shining out over a cow pasture. Cranked it up and drove back to school. Patrick
Back in 1988 or 1989, I was driving across country from San Diego to my home in South Carolina. It was after midnight in Georgia; I was cruising about 70-75 in the Turbo Regal Limited. I saw a set of Mustang lights in the distance ( RUT-ROAH) and gained up on them, When I saw that they were the 'louvered' tail lights from a GT with regular Georgia plates, I figured it was safe. I flicked my high beams to let him know as I passed him about ten over the limit (55 back then). Then he passed me a little more over that. UNH-UNH! I kicked it up a little more than him. This went on back and forth until about 120 MPH, with the little flick of the high beams to indicate the pass. He gave a longer flash, pulled up beside me at 125 ( the normal cutout for the chip on Turbo Regals), and lit the high beams as if to say "Bye- Bye". I let him get on up to what I figured he was doing about 130-135 (the max for Mustangs at that time). I lit up the high beams, pulled up along him at 135 ( I had a 145 calibrated speedo, and ATR chip with supposed 200 MPH chip), and I NAILED IT. Must have been doing about 145-150 when he flipped on the Bubble Gum Candy store hit the jack pot. Dang nab it rabbit, I'm going to jail now. I knew that Nothing outruns that Motorola overdrive!. I pulled over, leaving the car idling, and he pulled over behind me , still blinky-blinking. He asked me what I had in that car ( my Turbo Regal Limited has a landau top with silver paint, definitely not like the Grand Nationals. When he found out and saw that it was a turbo six (granted, mildly modified), He was impressed. He let me go, telling me that the next district had a few troopers that did not take kindly to speeders at all. Yep he was right, I saw several Troopers with cars pulled over in the next thirty-forty miles. Glad he was cool about it! I would probably STILL be in jail, as my parents Let me spend a weekend in jail to teach me a lesson several years earlier.
Steve I pulled something similar in my GSX leaving school one day,..hot girl was beside me at the light ,.. volleyball chick,...them thighs!! Ha but anyway,..light turned green and I drifted the big Buick while turning left,.. gorgeous drift,..ass hung way out,.. smooth correction and pull out,..smoke everywhere,....I'm sure she liked it,..never had balls enough to ask her ,..but the city cop sitting across the way watching me do it,..yea he didn't appreciate my skill on display haha,..ended up getting an ear full and a warning,..he said if you can swing this thing around you must of had control of it,..then it was all about showing him the engine and revving it up for him
I do have an embarrassing story… Back in 1987 I bought a 1969 SS396 Chevelle to keep my ‘71 Stage 1 company. The Chevelle was really nice; Garnet Red with a black bucket seat interior, four speed, 3.55 posi, gauge package, etc. It was a one-owner car and had a bunch of performance modifications that the original owner had made to it. It was originally a 325hp 396 but he had put rectangle port heads on it with a Edelbrock Tarantula intake, Holley carb, a big Engle cam and Hedman Husler headers. One night a bunch of my friends were going to the local drag strip (Greer Dragway in Greer, SC) for Test-n-Tune Night. Ten bucks and run as much as you want. I took the Chevelle, anxious to show it off to some of my friends that had not seen it yet. They were all running their cars and they talked me into running the Chevelle. I had never run a car on a drag strip before in my life but I wasn’t going to let them know that. I knew what to do from watching everybody else so I decided to do it. When my turn came I pulled into the water and managed a somewhat lame burnout. I ended up going through the staging lights by a few feet so I put it in reverse and backed into the lights, staging the car. I brought the revs up to about three grand and when the lights came down I popped the clutch… in reverse! I felt and looked like a complete idiot! Luckily, the car behind me was in the burnout box so I didn’t hit him…
After 30+ years of being a hardcore GM-only guy, and Buicks, I bought a Ford Mustang [Cobra]. In my defense, it was a factory supercharged Cobra and the only newer car that I was ever in that had the torque of a big-block. And 21 MPG, and goes around corners, and now 541 RWHP, and, ... But it was the torque that did it. I started out thinking I would buy the new 04-06 GTO until I read all of the posts on what the GTO owners would do so they could beat the new Cobras. No, there's no videos online of me driving the Cobra into the ditch at high speed. Not yet, anyway.
I was 16 years old, had my DL for probably four or five months at the time, and I did not have my own car yet. My Dad refused to let me drive his 86 T Type but he (or my Mom) would let me drive the 76 IH Scout II XLC occasionally. My Mom gave me the okay to use the truck for the afternoon, I picked up a buddy and we set off to cruise by a nearby high school to do what a lot of teen boys do, peacock for the young ladies. Since my Pop's truck was a 4 wheel drive truck and not a rubber laying street machine, somewhere in my underdeveloped teenage brain, I decided it would be awesome if I revved up the meager 345 engine in neutral, let the dual exhaust bark, and drop it into drive to burn a little scratch. Well...somewhere between revving the motor probably a bit too high and physics, force and all that good stuff being transferred to the rear end, we heard a very loud explosion, the truck skipped, bounced and hopped a few feet, lost all ability to move forward and of course the ultimate slap to the teenage boys ego, all of the girls were laughing hysterically at us. I got out, looked underneath the truck and the driveshaft was in two pieces of twisted pretzelness. I called home, and much to my surprise and utter dismay (and honestly scared), my Dad was now home. He asked what the f was I doing, he just knew it was me, not the truck, and he drove over to where we were. He assessed the damage, called me just about every name under the sun, reminding me as he'd done dozens of time, this truck is not a hot rod, called a towing company and had the truck towed back home. I then proceeded to spend the weekend underneath the truck as my Dad instructed me how to remove and replace the driveshaft. We took the driveshaft to a driveline specialist in the area and he asked what the hell happened, my Dad just eyeballed me, and the driveline guy laughed his ass off. I spent the next month doing various jobs around the house to pay back my Dad for the broken driveshaft. And, for the next episode of Teenage Adventures in Stupidity, I have another great story, not so much embarrassing, although it could have been, but it was definitely criminal and just plain dumb in hindsight, that involved my 1970 Skylark convertible, another local high school ( a pattern, maybe? ), a city traffic cop on motorcycle, a radar gun, a rear view mirror, flashing lights and high speeds...
I bought my first turbo regal in 91. I was 24 and just started dating Jen who was 20 at the time... I bought the Regal from the original owner. She was a smoking hot older woman. And by older, early 40s. Red hair...thin, but I digress.... She tells me that the car is really fast and to be very careful. Here I am this cocky 24 yo that already had a bunch of fast cars. Yeah yeah lady..... So I'm on my way to Jens house cause she wanted to "watch tv" in her basement with me. So I was racing over there First week driving my "new" TR. Wow, that woman was right, this car is fast! Handles good too! I'm coming into the offramp hot and the car starts sliding. Now the headlights aren't pointing the same direction as the car is going....get on the grass and the car is doing a 360. My butt cheeks were clenched so hard I could of pressed rivets with them. White knuckle death grip on the wheel.... The car stops finally. Whew.... didn't hit anything. I feeling of relief was incredible..I remember saying to myself, woe, that woman was right. I took it easy the rest of the way....the rest of my night went much better
I learned to drive on the same car, but a '76. 105 MPH?..... wow. I used to drive on bush logging roads in the 70's, lots of speed and nimble, but, there are limits.
My sister has a Terminator Cobra with the factory supercharger. That is one bad beast of a car. She only let me drive it once. I think hazing the tires off a 50 mph roll kicking it across 2 lanes scared her.
