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Last Friday's racing at Thunder Valley

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  • Last Friday's racing at Thunder Valley

    I was at the Flying J in Brookshire at 8:30 am topping off with diesel and Ice for the cooler. At about 9 am Gts Dave, Fugly and Trannyman drove by and I jumped in at the end of the line for the 450 mile convoy to Thunder Valley (named because of Tornados) in Norman, OK.

    While long, the trip was pretty uneventful. We arrived at the track at about 5:30 pm and spent the next couple hours unloading and setting up. Trannyman (Doug Watkins) had a replacement vent for my trailer roof and we got that on.

    Plenty of late Model Mustangs there (have I ever mentioned that Mustang drivers are mostly assholes and idiots?) - which means that there were stupid Mustang tricks like racing in the pits. Twice they borrowed my jack, and I even had one come to borrow a roll of electrical tape to repair what he called a massive fuel line leak. I gave him the tape and saved the lecture.

    Other tricks included them all double bulbing, cutting in line in staging lanes, and 4-second Reaction Times. The car ahead of me in the below photo had a motorcycle helmet, a T Shirt, treaded tires in the slicks lane, and "No time Display" written on his car. He stayed in his car while running with AC on for about a half hour - when they opened our lane. Obviously a true hero in Mustang legend.

    On this pass, the car felt like it was stuck in the mud, and wouldn't rev to over 5000 rpm. At least I had oil pressure when I lifted just before the 1/8. When I got my time slip, it was ugly. I had a .247 light despite knowing that I left on the last bulb and my 60' was over 2 seconds. I kinda felt like it was transmission or converter, rather than motor.

    When I was loading in trailer and got out of the car it started rolling away from me - until I jumped in and hit brakes. I thought maybe I didn't have in park as it was dark and I had a lot going through my mind. Anyway, my racing was again over before it started, and I loaded up.

    I had a motel reservation, but I didn't want to have a sleepless night with my truck, trailer and car in the motel parking lot, after the rash of unfortunate circumstances at an all time high. The other three weren't coming back to the track until 2pm Saturday - so I instead left the track at 10:30pm for the 450 mile trip back home. After I had pulled out, Damon called to say I didn't have running lights on the trailer. I jacked with it for about 30 minutes and while I had turn signals and brake lights - I couldn't get running lights. I decided I'd have to troll for cops by driving with Flashers on vs. trolling for cops and drunks without running lights on the trailer.

    At about midnight I stopped at the Flying J (I have the motorhome account that allows me to charge diesel for 6 cents under the cash price - get one if you don't have one) to fill up and have dinner at their Huddle House. I had the Mr. Cholestrol Special of greasy eggs, hash browns, grits, bacon and toast smeared with butter like substance. I also drank a total of 11 cups of coffee between there, the two 20oz go cups, and another 20oz down the road. I mention this because if you ever want a thorough Colon Cleanse - this is it. I'm so glad that my wife didn't have the back door locked when I got home - as I just made it to the shitter. But I got ahead of myself.

    About 250 miles down the road (either Hearne or Calvert - I get them mixed up), at about 4am, I stopped at Loves to refuel and coffee. Shortly after that the fog was as thick as Pea soup as I was driving on a dark and curvy two lane country road. On one curve I saw way too late, I hit it way too hot. I had the trailer waving pretty hard on both lanes but managed to not over correct while I got it straightened out. The pucker factor was very high!

    I finally got home at 6 am, caught a shower and a quick nap. Took another day to get my biological clock running right again.
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  • #2
    So on Saturday after a couple hour nap, I took the truck/trailer/Vitamin C and the Schnauzers to my shop, before all of the snooty neighbors called the Association about the White Trash Racer clogging the street. My house is about 30 miles from the shop.

    I figured I'd just drop it off and unload Monday as my ass was dragging. I have a pair of 2009 6-speed Challengers, a 78 Little Red Express, a 78 Magnum, and an 86 Grand National that I rotate as my daily drivers, along with my twelve year old truck. My wife and kids drive the new stuff. I decided to drive the 33,000 mile Grand National for the weekend. On the way home I was on the phone with the guy transporting the 70 Cyclone GT I sold, when the car stalled at a stop sign. It started right up and ran well, but stalled again at the next light. Again it started and ran well. I'm figuring an idle adjustment might be needed, although I've had the car since 1999 and it has always run great. I've raced in on occassion as there have been quite a few performance upgrades.

    About 2 miles down the road, all of a sudden I got no throttle response (or I should say it felt like there was a full choke on) and the car finally stalled. I was going about 70 so I put in neutral and coasted about a mile on the shoulder until I could turn off the highway. The car would start but sputter when I gave it gas.

    The Schnauzers were unimpressed.

    I had to call a rollback Wrecker for the expensive ride of shame back to the shop.

    We unloaded the car at the shop. I'm hoping it might be the EPROM chip has some contact corrosion, and that contact cleaner on its legs and in socket will fix. I know, I'm optimistic! Anyway I jumped into the SRT8 and drove home. The puppies slept!

    On the way home Trannyman (Doug Watkins) texted me that it was decided in Oklahoma that my name shall now frever be Calamity Dave.
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    Members are encouraged to be Participants, by posting.
    Check out my Blog "Life & Times of an Old NSS Racer"


    • #3
      Worse things they could call you!!!

      Hopefully the GN is an easy fix.
      "You're only as old as the women you feel."
      -Groucho Marx
      Moparless for now