True story...
Tonight was a beautiful Northern Ohio late spring evening with temperatures in the low '70's and a blue cloudless sky. Since I am working night shifts this weekend (10pm to 6am) and since the weather was so gorgeous, I decided to drive my GN to work. "To work?" you ask? Well, mainly because the guys who work on my team (I'm a supervisor at an Oil Refinery) have been begging for me to bring it in so they can see it in person. They had seen the pics but wanted to see it in person. No problem...
So, I decide to dust off Raven, check tire pressures, air up the Drag Radials (255-60/15's) and leave for work about 8:20pm.
Part of my 25 mile drive to work is four-lane interstate highway and about half of it is in town through some sleeply neighborhoods and a few retail strips with the usual McDonalds, Wendy's, Taco Bell, etc. As always, the GN draws stares and gawks from people on the road (along with a few thumbs-ups) and also as always, a wanna-be hero or two.
Why is this? These Turbo Buicks - especially a waxed Grand National - are like magnets for drivers with nothing but steel shavings for brains! Tonight's drive in was no exception.
First, I'm on I-75 heading north and I glance up to see in my rear view mirror that a white late model Dodge Charger (nice looking car) is doing the mess-around behind me, weaving in and out and apparently trying to catch up to me. Now, I'm driving around 70mph and this guy is coming up on my rear almost like I'm parked so I decide to pull over to the slow lane to let him come around.
Only - he doesn't.
He pulls up next to me and with the dark tint he has on the windows, I can't see if it's a dweeb with a mullet or Brad Pitt but regardless, the guy decides to flip his tranny to neutral and begins revving me! WTF? I look down at the fender on his car as he's tossing his challenge out and don't see the "HEMI" tag. Hmmm... "SXT"? WTF x2? A heavy-ass Charger with a V6?
Not getting any response from me, he starts surging ahead (if you can call the slight forward motion the car makes as he floors the pedal to cause the tranny to kickdown, loud noises to eminate from the single exhaust at the rear, and a slight, 'Let's rock to sleep' motion evident in the car). I don't even want to waste the $3.00 premium but what the hell. Traffic is light going northboud so I roll down my window (I too have heavy tint) and wave, thinking he will just zoom off into the sunset with his white Charger.
But - no-o-o-o-o-o-o. He wants to play.
Ok, let's dance buddy.
I wait for his next little rock-a-bye-baby 'surge' (almost insulting the word 'surge' to describe his same-day acceleration moves that way) and I mat the accelerator at 70mph. In a blink, the boost gauge lunges somewhere north of 20 psi, the progressive alky kit dumps in some of the cool stuff to keep knock out of the picture and the Vince Janis built 200R4 nearly snaps my neck, leaving the white Charger looking like he is indeed, parked.
Needless to say, he never came back up to me for the rest of the time on the interstate. Dang. And I was hoping we could share stories...
So, enjoying this ugly kill but at the same time lamenting the wasted fuel, I get off I-75 at my exit and begin the last half of the trip through the suburbs and eventually, restaurant row. Driving through the meandering streets and thoroughfares along the Maumee river is quite beautiful this evening with lots of pedestrians about, some pushing strollers with their toddlers and others just walking from here to there.
Regardlss, nearly all of them stare at the black shark that passes them pretty much silently by on the city streets... I love the attention this car gets.
Eventually, I end up at the intersection where restaurant row begins. There is a BP gas station on one corner, a McDonalds on another, a Wendys on the third, and some retail shopping on the fourth. Moving through the intersection after the glacially-paced light changes I see Taco Bell, Burger King and other assorted fast food joints approaching.
Seeing as to how I'm going to be up all night, I decide to pull into Taco Bell to grab a soda. That's when I notice that I've picked up a tail.
Looking in my rear view mirror, I see a silver Challenger. Not the original body but one of the newer ones. At first, he pulls over to the left lane (I'm in the right lane and there is also a turn lane on this five-lane stretch of road) and that is when I see the two slash marks on the fenders.
It's a good lookin' car, I've got to admit. I DO like the striping for some odd, retro-looking reason. He's just pacing me off my driver's side rear quarter, apparently looking over the GN.
Sheesh... not another one, I think to myself.
But when the driver sees me flick on the signal to turn into T/B, he slows and pulls in behind me, following me through the drive-through. I order my drink and pull ahead waiting for the car in front of me to get his order and go and that's when I hear it...
Challenger-guy is revving his Hemi a bit. I look in my mirror and I see what has to be the face of a teen ager behind the wheel with his girl to his right in the passenger side. WTF? But - he's at least giving me a thumbs-up so I wave back at him, figuring at least he's a guy who likes cars.
In a flash, the guy ahead gets his order (a family actually, in a Taurus) and he pulls out. I pull to the window, the young girl asks for my money and hands me a huge 32 ounce soda. I take it and then pull on ahead waiting to the approaching mini-van to pass so I can pull out to my right and finish the remaining four mile drive to the Refinery. But, since I have to wait for the minivan to pass, this gives the Challenger time to pull through as well and he is now back right behind me with HIS right turn signal on.
Hmmm... this might be fun.
The minivan passes and I wait a few seconds, taking a slurp of the icy Diet Pepsi and look up in my mirror to see the Challenger driver staring back.
The Offspring song, "Troublemaker" comes on the radio. Great timing I guess...
I s-l-o-w-l-y pull out onto Front Street and the Challenger nearly scrapes the bottom of his car bouncing over the uneven exit paving, hurrying to get out right behind me. I still have the tranny in "D" and the alky kit is still on...
He paces me for about 300 yards, still hanging off my driver's side rear quarter, as I slowly accelerate. The speed limit is only 35mph but this stretch of road is a boulevard in a now-defunct once industrial area that now mainly is bare land with foundational skeletons of once proud factories visible here and there.
In other words - a great place to get it on if the cops aren't around. And they are not around tonight, at least on Front Street. But, we still obey the law and keep it around 35-40mph.
We then go through a small construction area near I-280's overpass that crosses the Maumee. This is where the road necks down to a two-lane section and then opens back up to a five lane stretch before slowing at a stop light that is green followed by yet another light (red) at the next block. This is the last traffic light on this stretch of road, right beside Tony Packo's Cafe, a great place for food. On this evening, there a quite a few people coming and going from Packo's with some just standing on the sidewalk, enjoying the evening.
To a person, they all stop walking or what ever they are doing and stare at the GN and the Challenger that just pulled up to the light. They just KNEW something was going to happen... You could feel 'it' in the air...
Interestingly, there was no vehicle traffic at all at the moment, even on this warm Friday night... almost perfect.
We are stopped at the light and he is to my left. But - this is not a good place to run since there is a railroad track up ahead in about 300 yards or so. I have my window down and he sits beside me, the mellow rumble of his exhaust puncuating the evening air and clearly louder than mine.
His window is down too and I look over at his date (noting her uncanny resemblence to the pop-singer Pink) and he leans forward to say something.
"Want to run 'em?" he asks with a grin. 'Pink' just smiles approvingly at his words, obviously impressed with her date-du-jour, Studly Hungwell.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask him, my grin slightly evil, watching one guy on the corner pointing at the GN and saying something to his two buddies... both of which then nod knowingly in response to something he says. All three just stare now...
"Sure -why not?" he laughs back, the confidence in his words very evident.
I'm not laughing but I am just grinning at them both.
"Man, I like your car but I don't want to embarass you, ok? Especially in front of your girl." I figure that might make him think again but actually - and to be honest - I knew it was bait to say that. He and his girl both laugh at what I say, obviously very confident in the powerful car they were sitting in.
"Aw, c'mon man... I know your old Buick is fast and all that, but this has the new 370 horse HEMI. I think I can take you!"
I look up at the light. Still red for us and green for the cross traffic that wasn't even there...
"Ok. Wait until we cross the railroad down there and nail it. I'll try to keep up, ok?" I did not grin this time...
That's all I said as I rolled up my dark tinted window. I watched the light and I can hear him revving the 5.7 Hemi...
I see the cross traffic's light go to yellow, meaning ours would be green and then it changes. He revs it, dumps the clutch, and does his best John Force impersonation, smoking the tires as he heads to the railroad crossing only about 300 yards away. He gets there first, has to brake hard, and is slowly crossing the rough track as I pull up.
We both cross the track and he waits until I get almost even with him (he's still rolling less than 5mph) and nails it.
Now, I've got to be honest - his car LOOKED and SOUNDED awesome! When he cut the horses loose, it was impressive.
That is, until I passed him in less than 2-3 seconds and the next 100'. I left him and his beautiful Challenger clawing the tarmac, growling in the dusty evening air. All the while Raven sounds like a Valkyrie, shrieking with fury under 22psi of boost on the AutoMeter A-Pillar gauge, the red light on the Alky controller glowing and indicating that cool, octane raising Alcohol was flowing through the braided steel line. (I checked the Scanmaster later and it only showed .8 knock max on the 2-3 shift.)
Man, I love 'old school'...
It was over before it began. Darn. Fun always ends much too quickly. Too bad the three guys back there in front of Packo's weren't closer to see this. Somehow though, I think at least one of them pretty much knew what was going down...
So, I slowed down - all the while keeping an open eye for a cop - as the dead Mopar eventually caught up. To his credit, he did not even try to do a Ricer fly-by. And, as he pulled up along side, he gave me another thumbs up as did Pink. I waved back as we were rolling towards the overpass. But, he slowed and then turned right as he dropped back and into a small subdivision before I got to my road that takes me over yet another railroad switching yard before I get to work.
Gotta give the kid props... he wasn't an jerk, he had a cool car, and he was a gracious loser. He took his 'education' like a man and not many kids do that.
I just would have liked to talk to him a bit but hey, I had to get to work and he obviously had somewhere he needed to be this late Friday evening... Not a bad way to pass the time on the way in.
(This story is 100% true. No Mopars were harmed in the sequence of events althought two of them were technically - and thoroughly - killed.)
Tonight was a beautiful Northern Ohio late spring evening with temperatures in the low '70's and a blue cloudless sky. Since I am working night shifts this weekend (10pm to 6am) and since the weather was so gorgeous, I decided to drive my GN to work. "To work?" you ask? Well, mainly because the guys who work on my team (I'm a supervisor at an Oil Refinery) have been begging for me to bring it in so they can see it in person. They had seen the pics but wanted to see it in person. No problem...
So, I decide to dust off Raven, check tire pressures, air up the Drag Radials (255-60/15's) and leave for work about 8:20pm.
Part of my 25 mile drive to work is four-lane interstate highway and about half of it is in town through some sleeply neighborhoods and a few retail strips with the usual McDonalds, Wendy's, Taco Bell, etc. As always, the GN draws stares and gawks from people on the road (along with a few thumbs-ups) and also as always, a wanna-be hero or two.
Why is this? These Turbo Buicks - especially a waxed Grand National - are like magnets for drivers with nothing but steel shavings for brains! Tonight's drive in was no exception.
First, I'm on I-75 heading north and I glance up to see in my rear view mirror that a white late model Dodge Charger (nice looking car) is doing the mess-around behind me, weaving in and out and apparently trying to catch up to me. Now, I'm driving around 70mph and this guy is coming up on my rear almost like I'm parked so I decide to pull over to the slow lane to let him come around.
Only - he doesn't.
He pulls up next to me and with the dark tint he has on the windows, I can't see if it's a dweeb with a mullet or Brad Pitt but regardless, the guy decides to flip his tranny to neutral and begins revving me! WTF? I look down at the fender on his car as he's tossing his challenge out and don't see the "HEMI" tag. Hmmm... "SXT"? WTF x2? A heavy-ass Charger with a V6?
Not getting any response from me, he starts surging ahead (if you can call the slight forward motion the car makes as he floors the pedal to cause the tranny to kickdown, loud noises to eminate from the single exhaust at the rear, and a slight, 'Let's rock to sleep' motion evident in the car). I don't even want to waste the $3.00 premium but what the hell. Traffic is light going northboud so I roll down my window (I too have heavy tint) and wave, thinking he will just zoom off into the sunset with his white Charger.
But - no-o-o-o-o-o-o. He wants to play.
Ok, let's dance buddy.
I wait for his next little rock-a-bye-baby 'surge' (almost insulting the word 'surge' to describe his same-day acceleration moves that way) and I mat the accelerator at 70mph. In a blink, the boost gauge lunges somewhere north of 20 psi, the progressive alky kit dumps in some of the cool stuff to keep knock out of the picture and the Vince Janis built 200R4 nearly snaps my neck, leaving the white Charger looking like he is indeed, parked.
Needless to say, he never came back up to me for the rest of the time on the interstate. Dang. And I was hoping we could share stories...
So, enjoying this ugly kill but at the same time lamenting the wasted fuel, I get off I-75 at my exit and begin the last half of the trip through the suburbs and eventually, restaurant row. Driving through the meandering streets and thoroughfares along the Maumee river is quite beautiful this evening with lots of pedestrians about, some pushing strollers with their toddlers and others just walking from here to there.
Regardlss, nearly all of them stare at the black shark that passes them pretty much silently by on the city streets... I love the attention this car gets.
Eventually, I end up at the intersection where restaurant row begins. There is a BP gas station on one corner, a McDonalds on another, a Wendys on the third, and some retail shopping on the fourth. Moving through the intersection after the glacially-paced light changes I see Taco Bell, Burger King and other assorted fast food joints approaching.
Seeing as to how I'm going to be up all night, I decide to pull into Taco Bell to grab a soda. That's when I notice that I've picked up a tail.
Looking in my rear view mirror, I see a silver Challenger. Not the original body but one of the newer ones. At first, he pulls over to the left lane (I'm in the right lane and there is also a turn lane on this five-lane stretch of road) and that is when I see the two slash marks on the fenders.
It's a good lookin' car, I've got to admit. I DO like the striping for some odd, retro-looking reason. He's just pacing me off my driver's side rear quarter, apparently looking over the GN.
Sheesh... not another one, I think to myself.
But when the driver sees me flick on the signal to turn into T/B, he slows and pulls in behind me, following me through the drive-through. I order my drink and pull ahead waiting for the car in front of me to get his order and go and that's when I hear it...
Challenger-guy is revving his Hemi a bit. I look in my mirror and I see what has to be the face of a teen ager behind the wheel with his girl to his right in the passenger side. WTF? But - he's at least giving me a thumbs-up so I wave back at him, figuring at least he's a guy who likes cars.
In a flash, the guy ahead gets his order (a family actually, in a Taurus) and he pulls out. I pull to the window, the young girl asks for my money and hands me a huge 32 ounce soda. I take it and then pull on ahead waiting to the approaching mini-van to pass so I can pull out to my right and finish the remaining four mile drive to the Refinery. But, since I have to wait for the minivan to pass, this gives the Challenger time to pull through as well and he is now back right behind me with HIS right turn signal on.
Hmmm... this might be fun.
The minivan passes and I wait a few seconds, taking a slurp of the icy Diet Pepsi and look up in my mirror to see the Challenger driver staring back.
The Offspring song, "Troublemaker" comes on the radio. Great timing I guess...
I s-l-o-w-l-y pull out onto Front Street and the Challenger nearly scrapes the bottom of his car bouncing over the uneven exit paving, hurrying to get out right behind me. I still have the tranny in "D" and the alky kit is still on...
He paces me for about 300 yards, still hanging off my driver's side rear quarter, as I slowly accelerate. The speed limit is only 35mph but this stretch of road is a boulevard in a now-defunct once industrial area that now mainly is bare land with foundational skeletons of once proud factories visible here and there.
In other words - a great place to get it on if the cops aren't around. And they are not around tonight, at least on Front Street. But, we still obey the law and keep it around 35-40mph.
We then go through a small construction area near I-280's overpass that crosses the Maumee. This is where the road necks down to a two-lane section and then opens back up to a five lane stretch before slowing at a stop light that is green followed by yet another light (red) at the next block. This is the last traffic light on this stretch of road, right beside Tony Packo's Cafe, a great place for food. On this evening, there a quite a few people coming and going from Packo's with some just standing on the sidewalk, enjoying the evening.
To a person, they all stop walking or what ever they are doing and stare at the GN and the Challenger that just pulled up to the light. They just KNEW something was going to happen... You could feel 'it' in the air...
Interestingly, there was no vehicle traffic at all at the moment, even on this warm Friday night... almost perfect.
We are stopped at the light and he is to my left. But - this is not a good place to run since there is a railroad track up ahead in about 300 yards or so. I have my window down and he sits beside me, the mellow rumble of his exhaust puncuating the evening air and clearly louder than mine.
His window is down too and I look over at his date (noting her uncanny resemblence to the pop-singer Pink) and he leans forward to say something.
"Want to run 'em?" he asks with a grin. 'Pink' just smiles approvingly at his words, obviously impressed with her date-du-jour, Studly Hungwell.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask him, my grin slightly evil, watching one guy on the corner pointing at the GN and saying something to his two buddies... both of which then nod knowingly in response to something he says. All three just stare now...
"Sure -why not?" he laughs back, the confidence in his words very evident.
I'm not laughing but I am just grinning at them both.
"Man, I like your car but I don't want to embarass you, ok? Especially in front of your girl." I figure that might make him think again but actually - and to be honest - I knew it was bait to say that. He and his girl both laugh at what I say, obviously very confident in the powerful car they were sitting in.
"Aw, c'mon man... I know your old Buick is fast and all that, but this has the new 370 horse HEMI. I think I can take you!"
I look up at the light. Still red for us and green for the cross traffic that wasn't even there...
"Ok. Wait until we cross the railroad down there and nail it. I'll try to keep up, ok?" I did not grin this time...
That's all I said as I rolled up my dark tinted window. I watched the light and I can hear him revving the 5.7 Hemi...
I see the cross traffic's light go to yellow, meaning ours would be green and then it changes. He revs it, dumps the clutch, and does his best John Force impersonation, smoking the tires as he heads to the railroad crossing only about 300 yards away. He gets there first, has to brake hard, and is slowly crossing the rough track as I pull up.
We both cross the track and he waits until I get almost even with him (he's still rolling less than 5mph) and nails it.
Now, I've got to be honest - his car LOOKED and SOUNDED awesome! When he cut the horses loose, it was impressive.
That is, until I passed him in less than 2-3 seconds and the next 100'. I left him and his beautiful Challenger clawing the tarmac, growling in the dusty evening air. All the while Raven sounds like a Valkyrie, shrieking with fury under 22psi of boost on the AutoMeter A-Pillar gauge, the red light on the Alky controller glowing and indicating that cool, octane raising Alcohol was flowing through the braided steel line. (I checked the Scanmaster later and it only showed .8 knock max on the 2-3 shift.)
Man, I love 'old school'...
It was over before it began. Darn. Fun always ends much too quickly. Too bad the three guys back there in front of Packo's weren't closer to see this. Somehow though, I think at least one of them pretty much knew what was going down...
So, I slowed down - all the while keeping an open eye for a cop - as the dead Mopar eventually caught up. To his credit, he did not even try to do a Ricer fly-by. And, as he pulled up along side, he gave me another thumbs up as did Pink. I waved back as we were rolling towards the overpass. But, he slowed and then turned right as he dropped back and into a small subdivision before I got to my road that takes me over yet another railroad switching yard before I get to work.
Gotta give the kid props... he wasn't an jerk, he had a cool car, and he was a gracious loser. He took his 'education' like a man and not many kids do that.
I just would have liked to talk to him a bit but hey, I had to get to work and he obviously had somewhere he needed to be this late Friday evening... Not a bad way to pass the time on the way in.
(This story is 100% true. No Mopars were harmed in the sequence of events althought two of them were technically - and thoroughly - killed.)