Monday, April 6, 2015

The Spirit

I don't know all the names of the men that competed, changed tires or filled gas. I only know the legacy they left behind by the images that filter through my days.

Those Trans Am pony wars of days gone by were well before my time, although being born at the end of that era it would be a long time before I looked at a car with that kind of anger.

However the aforementioned image lingers constantly, the '68 camaro of Mark Donohue drifting sideways through a left handed sweeper at the long forgotten Riverside raceway or the clips of race footage during the hay day of Seattle international raceway that can thankfully still be found in the web of the world.
It's those images and the feats of near inhuman strength and determination that remind me that although I've chosen to follow the god's of speed with an unlikely chariot. My quest is attainable, I can achieve that hang upon the edge if I'm willing to push for it. There where men that achieved great hights without all the technology money can buy.

And as I've been rather forthcoming with the fact, that like most enthusiasts,  I am a man of meager means. Those chassis and brakes that rest on every other page of every magazine on any stand will never find there way onto the Black Pearl.

Instead we will be taking a page out the history books to achieve our end. Because I'm sure someone told Smokey Yunick how he should go about following the crowd to get his speed, and how certain I am that he scoffed at the suggestion.

I'm gonna take all that old knowledge out into the hills and put it up against all the new technology and see what happens. I'm sure that customed off the shelf newstalgia ride will have an issue running against some of those old souls.




Credit to the original photographer for being there, unfortunately I can't praise you more as I'm unable to find your name

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