Why

Ever wonder why you go through all the hassle, I often do, and I'm certain the people in my life do.

I have a quest to go around corners. I truly enjoy the sensation of getting on the brakes at the last possible second, spotting your turn in, eyes to the exit and then stand on the go!

And when you get it just right it's an amazing feeling, unfortunately it's also an amazing feeling when you get it wrong, just not in the same way.

The downfall for me has always been the fact that I'm caught between two worlds. I have always loved the sound and feel of fifties American steel and the V8 engine. However these where never senonimis with going around corners at a high rate of speed. Although getting to the corner first was seldom ever in question.

So at a young age I found that the periodicals of my father featured in great detail these small rear engined German pieces of engineering. And something about there shape and simplicity captivated me.

Then came the day when I got to stand in the presence of one of these masters of determination. The sound they made was nothing like I had ever heard.

My first true experience was a club day at the only road course for miles and miles. As I heard them tear down the front straight of the former Seattle international raceway, I felt as though my ribs where being chewed on by a lion. My entire soul felt that thing fly by, and with that I was sold.

Thirty years later, I'm still sold, but like most, the buy in is not practical for my life. I accept that reality. So to mold my two favorite vehicles in the auto industry together, I'm gonna see what knowledge I can aquire to make my big metal sled slice through a canyon like one of those little German wonders.

And the adventure I'll have along the way....

Yesterday

Yesterday I was moving some stuff in the garage on my way to greater adult responsibility, I had to get under the bench, necessitating that I move my bmx bike. And that got me to remember all the time I've spent in the quest for that adrenaline rush.

I have mostly moved onto to cars, like most people my age. However there is that undeniable fondness for the first thing that ever allowed you the freedom to roam past the end of the cul-de-sac. That day when you got to the corner, took that one last look over your shoulder.

Then it was over, the comfort and security of the yard that had been your life was shattered,  you had made the turn into the big bad world. Nothing would be the same after that moment.

In some way we have all done it, made the turn, our parents know, they may even be able to tell you about it. I know for myself it was an unmistakable air about me, confident and assured of myself, shoulders back, head held high.

I had seen the world and it was mine for the taking, and the speed at which it came, the speed I wanted more of that sweet exilirating speed.

The quest grew rapidly as my days turned to years, the faster and closer to the edge I got, the more I wanted. Some one once that if your in control, your not going fast enough.  I unfortunately for my parents insurance policy tried to live up to that mantra.

Some decisions have been better advised then others, some are better left in the minds of the people that where there. And some are just good to share like a good beer.

It's nice to remind yourself of the things that helped create the personality that you have today. I know for myself if it wasn't for the fascinating world of bicycle motocross I wouldn't know half the people I know now some thirty odd years later, I wouldn't have the scares and memories that came from it. I wouldn't have the fascination.

All those things with there chrome plated and polished aluminum are the hot bed of coals that plant the seed to hot rodding heart and soul.

Think I'll ride to work next week.

The First time

Everyone remembers there first time. Your alone, it's dark, your weeping softly.  A situation that would stick with you for years to come.
 

This is not about that kind of first time, although it is an experience that will stick with me for years to come. The nerves had settle from backing the Pearl up a steep driveway. I don't think there was any type of code or regulations in the thirty's about what angle a driveway had to be made at. If it was mostly paved, the city was mostly happy.
 

Finally it was time to pull away from the curb for the first time. It wasn't dark and I wasn't alone, I won't say I wasn't weeping. I was about to drive off in a fifty five Chevrolet two door hard top and it was black with a four speed, a fabled Muncie four speed.
 

As it sat idling I couldn't keep my hands and feet from shaking, it was some sort of combination of fear and the ground vibrating. I had mostly had four cylinders prior to this, some pigly inline six and a big Cadillac v8, but those where clouded in acres of steel and glass.
This thing had a v8, a real v8. One that made all the right sounds and some strange wirring sound coming from the front. Nothing was leaking or smoking, short of the distinct smell coming from the clutch after it's punishment.

The time was now, I had gathered all my strength and was prepared to see my future, or my past fly by in rapid succession. As we pulled down the narrow car lined street the owner fumbled with the lap belt. See, I was sharing my first time as he had never driven it either. He had inherited it, sorta came with the house kinda family thing.
 

I sat at the intersection with the left blinker on waiting for the right time to pull out into traffic. Not that there was any traffic but I wanted to be absolutely certain just in case.I began to depress the long pedal on the right just as I released the clutch pedal. Steering into my internal scream I realized that we where both sitting on the passenger side staring into oncoming traffic.

 

We decided that it seems to run just fine.....