It was one of THOSE days... (Part II)

Raven

Here - watch THIS!
Joined
May 24, 2001
I sat back in the seat of the Shelby and was immediately swept back to another time - back to when I bought my first GN. Even 20 years couldn’t separate the feeling, the smell, the sensation of sitting in a new and very powerful car. It was a heady feeling; one of knowing that all sorts of excitement was at my beck and call by simply matting the pedal beneath my right foot.

Ah… but there was a difference too. Horsepower…

The Shelby has an alluring call to it. You only have to look down at the Cobra on the steering wheel emblem to know that it, like the GN, is a breed all its own. From the fat steering wheel to the gauges, from the feel of the contoured seats to the view out over the slightly bulged and vented hood, you know that the GT500 is all business - at least 200 more HP of business - stock - versus the GN as it came from the factory.

And there is no denying that when you turn the key…

Since the door was still open, when I slid the key on into the cylinder, the gentle ‘pong’ of the chime began to politely remind me to close the door, strap in, and hold on. And by rotating the key, I brought to life the engine of the most powerful Mustang Ford had ever built.

The motor didn’t ‘start’ as much as it angrily exploded to life. In a very similar fashion to the way the Intercooled V6 in my GN had started earlier that morning, the 5.4 seemed as if it wanted to jump out of the K-member and smack down anything that dared challenge its authority. And the subtleness of the exhaust belied the explosive power being fired in the cylinders – it rumbled but not in an untoward way… just a muscular beat but without a lot of ‘cam-effect’ that had a very, very sinister tone to it.

At nearly the same time, I heard Brandon fire the GN. I looked over at him but couldn’t see inside the deeply tinted glass but I knew that he, just like me, had a silly but appreciative grin on his stupid mug.

I snugged up the seat/shoulder belt, depressed the clutch (and was pleasantly surprised at how ‘real’ it felt, not overly harsh but not like a marshmallow either), released the e-brake, snicked the shifter into first and began to pull away. The first impression I had of the power was the ease that the car pulled out – there didn’t seem to even be a chance of stalling the motor. I’ve driven Terminators and they can be a little finicky at low RPM’s and can even be stalled fairly easily if you don’t have enough “R’s” to keep the torque flowing.

That just didn’t seem to be the case with the Shelby. It almost felt as if I could hook onto a house and drag it behind me and to be able to say that about a Mod-Motor is saying something.

This motor felt STRONG.

Running it through the gears was uneventful and smooth all the while feeling as if I was guiding a hungry panther through a sea of gazelles. Even the shifter’s position was placed in a good place and wasn’t notchy or sloppy in the least. At one of the first lights I was stopped at, I happened to look over to my right and saw that Brandon was beside me with the window down, motioning for me to roll down mine.

Waiting for the light to change, he gave me the “So?” look.

I gave him the thumbs up – I definitely was impressed. This car feels powerful and in turn, makes the driver feel almost invincible. There’s only one other car I’ve driven that made me feel like that.

Yep. My GN.

By the time we got close to the Carwash, I was feeling pretty good about the shifter and shift points so I decided to wind it on out a bit since we were in a 45 mph zone. Once I pulled away from the light, I left it in first and gave the pony most of the go-pedal, immediately rewarded with a massive shove against my chest and pushing me back into the seat without manners. The tach swept upward in a dizzying pace and I short shifted at ~5500rpm, feeling the torque once more and hearing the big blower howl with impunity. Just as quickly, I let out of it and noticed that Brandon was way behind me. Looking down, I watched the speedo spiraling downward from almost 70 mph.
I knew then and there that the Shelby is no poseur, even with less than 50 miles on the clock at that point.

I rolled on into the car wash and let the car idle a bit as Brandon pulled on in beside me. We both shut down within seconds of each other and I got out shaking my head.

“Well? Whadaythink?”, he grinned once more.

“Brandon…. THAT is a car to be reckoned with. No doubt – she’s got the power and it isn’t even broken in yet. I have no doubt that it’s a solid mid-12 second or lower car as she sits right there. With traction, you might even be high 11’s…. and I don’t care what people say about its weight – it just does NOT feel like a heavy car.”

He just nodded in agreement, his goofy grin still trying to blind me.

“Yeah, B… you did good.” I couldn’t lie – I liked his car. And after all, how can a GN guy not like a black car with balls the size of coconuts?

As we swapped places, I looked back at the GT500. I had to admit to myself that I really DID like its looks. The understated ness of no stripes, no big massive fog lights in the grille, no big “Look at ME!” scoop on the hood… it was a modern day GN to be sure. And after the experiences I have had with the Terminators (my son owns a black ‘03 10 second street monster), I just KNEW that the Shelby was a valid heir to the throne that had yet to be vacated by the Terms.

Yep… there is going to be trouble on the streets when more of these bad-boys begin to prowl.

Brandon and Stacy jumped in the Cobra, waved goodbye and headed on over to B-dubs. I watched and listened as the pulled away and only had one thought….

I wanted to run that car with my GN. I just had to know how strong the Shelby really was. Little did I know that I would find out much sooner rather than later.


By the time I got to the restaurant, my wife was already there sitting with the crowd. The parking lot was so full, I didn’t even see Brandon’s car but I knew he was there because my wife had called me on the cell to see if I had ‘got lost’. When I told her about having to wash off the car, I could hear the ‘he’s so anal about keeping that car clean’ sigh I’ve heard a million times. Thankfully, I know she’s not TOO upset about it.

Making my way through the crowd, I finally spied the tables where we had gathered, not too far out from one of the big Plasma TV’s scattered about the noisy place. The smell of wings and brews was mixed in with the sights and sounds of a noisy restaurant holiday crowd; sounds of clanking glasses, silverware on plates, children squealing with delight over their desserts, and so forth – it felt nice. That’s one of the things I’ve always liked about the place – it just feels like home.

As I got closer to the table, I saw Brandon and Stacy to my wife’s right with the girls engaged in conversation. Brandon was jawing with a guy I hadn’t met before but that wasn’t unusual – Brandon never met a stranger. I swear – he just loves to talk. And 99.9% of the time, it’s about cars. Well, as long as Stacy wasn’t around. Then, it was usually about girls AND cars.

I decided to say hello. Anyone who could last more than a minute listening to Brandon talk about Fords was either A) a Ford lover too or, B) deaf. As I got closer Brandon, stood up and pulled up a chair for me to sit with him.

“Steve, this here is Ned. I met him today at the dealership and invited him to join us.”

Ned and I shook hands but for some odd reason, I got a weird vibe – sort of one of those strange, deja-vu experiences. Had I met this guy somewhere before? I just didn’t know... Odd… the guy just seemed to be a bit unfriendly I thought. Maybe it was just my imagination but something seemed a bit off-key. Where did I see him and when? But good ol’ Brandon broke that train of thought for me.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you but Ned here bought the first Shelby in the state. He got it up at Findlay – did you see it in the parking lot out there?”

“Nah, I didn’t. But I would like to have – I was sure impressed with yours so seeing another one would be icing on the cake.” I figured I would toss out a compliment and see if that broke the ice with Ned.

It didn’t. He didn’t say a word. No matter – Brandon had enough words for all three of us.

“Steve, his car is a Red one with white stripes. I gotta admit it – it’s pretty eye-catching. I can’t believe you didn’t see it out there. What side did you park on?”

“I parked out there on the Mall side away from everyone. Where did you guys park?”

Ned spoke. Yet, I couldn’t quite put my finger on why this guy seemed familiar.

“We parked across the street in the Lowe’s lot. I can’t believe you didn’t see my car, dude. Seems like everyone else has! Some clown in a Camaro ‘bout ran off the street just starin’ at the Shel!” and with that, he burst out in one of the most loud and obnoxious laughs I’ve ever heard. Some people jerked their heads around with odd looks on their face as if to ask, “Who let Mr. Ed in here?” But Mr. Ed, er, I mean Ned, didn’t let that stop him. Seemed like attention was the fuel that this guy needs.

“Of course, I’m used to it. Ever since I got the car back from the Tuner’s, it’s been getting a lot of attention. Just like it should – it’s the new sheriff in town now. When you leave, make sure you look at it – but take a napkin. I know you’re gonna drool.”

It was then that the memory smacked me hard! The word ‘Sheriff’ was the trigger.

National Trails drag strip in Columbus, about 8-9 years ago. He was banned from the track that year for having been caught tampering with his closest competitor’s car in the sportsman class. What the ‘tampering’ was had never been revealed (although there was a flurry of rumor about him loosening some lug nuts on a car) but the guy was a cheater and everyone in Columbus knew it. He disappeared from the area right after that and I had heard he had gone down south somewhere.

But I was there when the track officials confronted him that day in the staging lanes (I was two cars back from his supposed record-breaking car in the same lane) and ‘Ned’ laughed that same, egotistical laugh as he told the officials to take hike. Thankfully, they remained steadfast and called for the Sheriff to escort Mr. Ed from the premises, which they did. Some people said he made all sorts of threats about lawsuits and such but I never heard any more about the guy.

Until today. Yep, it was definitely one of THOSE days.

And now, here he was, back in the flesh, eating wings and drinking beer at the same table with me and B and our wives.

“Hey. Brandon here tells me you’ve got one of those old-school Buicks – is that right?” He seemed to even sneer as he asked the question.

“Yeah… it’s a GN.”

“Is it as fast as he says?” Hmm… where was this guy going? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, knowing what I already knew about him.

“Fast enough, I guess.”

“Maybe we oughta line ‘em up after the game. You know, sort of a friendly little race just to see how well Old School can do against New School. I promise – I won’t embarrass ya TOO BAD! Har-har-HAR!!!”

Brandon had the oddest look on his face, almost as if he just found out his fly was open. It was obvious he didn’t know his new ‘buddy’ was an first class jerk.

“Not today, Ned. Too much traffic and besides, I would rather race at the track. It’s much safer. Maybe next spring, huh? By that time, Brandon will have his car broken in and we can take the three of them.”

Ned’s face darkened. “Aw, c’mon Buick-boy. I won’t even put any money on it. We’ll just run for fun and I can show you we get it done with the blue oval these days.”

Ok. Now, I’m a little pissed. “Let’s see how late the game runs, ok Ed? (I purposely said his name wrong just to poke a stick in his blood-shot eye…)”

“It’s ‘NED’, not Ed. And ok, we’ll see. I’ve beat everything else I’ve ran against, might as well add a Buick to the list. HAR-HAR-HAR!!!”

I noticed that Brandon was strangely quiet up till then but he spoke. “Steve, let’s go up to the bar and see where our waitress is. I want to tell you something I read in the manual about my car anyhow…”

So, off Brandon and I went, trying to snake through the crowd. But as we got out of earshot of the table, he stopped me.

“Steve, first - this guy's a JERK! But beyond that - Ned’s car is serious business. It isn’t stock either. I know you were impressed with mine and it’s a bad boy all right. But Ned’s hasn’t just been tuned. It’s had a LOT of stuff done to it.”

“Like what?”

“Suspension work. A new blower and CAI. Gears and an aluminum driveshaft. ET Streets on aluminum wheels. Dyno tuned. And more. If he’s not lying, it’s supposedly putting down nearly 700 rwhp, if not more - you just don't know what to believe from this guy it seems. I just thought you should know – this isn’t a stock Shelby you’re looking to run.”

I nodded my head as I listened.

"But I will tell you this Steve - his Shelby DOES sound wicked. It makes mine sound like a kitten..."

Hmmm....

“Brandon, a lot of the time and as you know better than anyone, in a race, it isn’t how much dog is in the fight. It’s how much fight is in the dog. We’ll see how it goes… ok? I’m not afraid of his shiny new red car. I’ve been beaten by better guys a lot better of a man than him so even if I would race and lose, that’s no big deal. But I’ve also got a feelin’ that ol’ Ned doesn’t realize what I’ve got under the hood either. Did you tell him about my GN, about what I did to it?”

“Nah… only that you had a Turbo Buick. And when I did, he licked his lips like a dog thinking of a raw steak. But he doesn’t really know what you’ve got.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. At least for now…”

More to come…
 
Awesome writing!
What suspense!!
Staying tuned as well .......... HAR HAR!!! :biggrin: :biggrin:

$20 says the TR wins and shuts him up!
 
I'm posting Pt 3 in about 5 minutes. There are at least two more chapters to this story... ;)
 
I like it, I like it, well written you got me going

I love putting jerks like that in their place, but 750rwhp is no joke unless he is the BS that I think he is.
 
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