Last week, I was in my hometown of Lawton, Oklahoma. The racing scene isn't very big here. Sheridan road is where most of us gathered, lines of cars, beaters and fancies, ones with rows of 15" speakers or modified motors with full 3' race flows; all would gather in this two mile oval street and just drive...
Well, I must say I was disappointed at the showing. Not a single V-8 mustang in the lot, save me. Buncha pesky Z-28s driven by high school cheerleaders who had nothing better to do than flaunt their parent's wealth with slowmaros and shoe polish writing all over their back windows. The cops were not to be seen, which was unusual. The cruise, at it was called, was notorious for police activities, and was the place where I was handed my first citation. None the less, with best friend at hand, I proceeded to make my laps around the cruise, making sure people heard me and knew I meant business. I wanted to race my former peers.
At first, the only ones that would rumble were the trucks. But I had a blast taking them apart with my v-6 so I let them disperse into the crowd, making a lot of racket and poor showings when floored. Proceeding to the sixth lap, my friend said he had seen a Trans Am he had raced a few months back when he himself had a 95 GT. From what he told me, it was slower than dirt. Then, as if God himself had heard my cry, a strange noise came up beside me. A green Trans Am with an LT-1 motor, came up beside me and then roared off. I wasn't impressed with it but obviously, he wanted some of the Bullitt. So for the next four laps, we revved and gunned it next to each other, seeing each other's style in racing and feeling the air for cops. Finally at a light before the U turn, I revved and staged. He revved and staged. I laughed as the light turned green and gently gave the car gas as the guy made a total ass of himself and floored his car, burning rubber and such all over the place. Let me tell you, it reeked of rubber. Anyways, that proved he had an auto with a stall kit. So now I knew his game. I got beside him afterwards and asked him if he wanted to go. He agreed and we proceeded to Cache Rd for our rumble. Several failed attempts and finally we decided to go to our local highway, 62/Roger's Lane. After a long train to the area, we did a 15 roll. I played catch up as I let him get the go. Then I followed and pulled hard in 1st. Then, after the 2nd gear scratch, things were even. But at the top of my second, I began to fade. He began inching on me slowly and surely. My sloppy shift to 3rd was the mortal blow as he began his slow drift passed me. Finally, at 124 mph, the race was cut short because of a car that stopped in the middle of the street. Though not bitter, I was disappointed that I didnt' win. But he was, after all, not stock like me. Painfully, though, this was only a matter of 30 or so Horsepower. I will get my revenge. For all of us Bullitts.
