- 17
This is REALLY long and fictional. Sorry. At least the driving will be real.
Introduction
It had been a damned cold day all of the Monday before last and I was certainly begining to mimic the drearyness outdoors. I'd basically been milling about my home and my shop, moving in routine patterns day after day. After 20 years, running an auto shop just wasn't as exciting anymore. I could certainly remember when I had a good time at work, but those days had seemed to have passed. That is, until the Monday before last.
I was just relaxing in my office when my phone rang. I picked it up and was greeted by a familar voice before I even spoke.
"Good to see you're still alive, you uncaring ass!" bellowed my old friend and teammate Marcus.
"Good afternoon to you as well."
"I've got something going and I could use your help. Fun stuff. Interested," he asked me as if we were still driving on the same team back home, assuming I would be.
"I don't know Marc. I've been damn busy here in the garage. Today is teh first day I've set down for more than 5 minutes."
"That's of no concern. You'll be sitting down the whole time. Come on!"
"Alright, what have you got?" I asked, with an ever so pesimistic tone.
"Six cars that need a test for my magazine. I need a new driver and I figure you could use the time away."
"I can," I wasn't impressed, "but just what the hell do you have?"
"A handful of mismatched, late 1980's Japanese' cars in mint condition."
"I'm in!"
Without further pursuasion, Marc was able to get me on a plane to nothern California where he, and six susposidly beautiful cars, would be waiting. I got on the plane in Columbus, Ohio and about 6 hours later, I touched down in San Francisco. After about half an hour, I'd reached the front of the insanely busy airport and spotted my old friend and his new ride.
"Good to finally see you, Marc."
"You're damn right! You look like hell, bad flight?"
"No. This is just me anymore."
"You really DID need some time away."
"Probably so. So what's the plan?"
"Well, are you up to a little driving today?"
"You're God damn nuts if you think I'm not!"
"Hop in. We'll go meet you new friends."
I climb into the passenger side of his black '97 Supra. As I do so, I'm greeted by a roll cage and 5-point harnesses. He tells me I'll need them as we creep out of the airports lot. I doubted him until we hit the 101 and headed south. The Supra was clearly well built. The interstate was rather empty thanks to a accident north of us and we had a good bit of room to run, and boy did he ever. It was good to see Marc still had his skills. He snapped the Toyota down the highway at nearly 160 miles per hour and gave indifference to the thought of law enforcement coming along.
"To hell with them! Not like they can keep up anyway!" he yelled over the gutteral roar of the car.
"You seem awefully confident, pal."
"600 horsepower will do that!"
He cartainly wasn't joking. It'd been so long since I'd been in a truely powerful car, I'd almost forgotten the intoxication it can cause. I've always had a special relationship with cars. Feeling every movement and every explosion. I'd let the car become part of my body and used it like armor. It was more as if I could run 200 miles per hour and simply wore the car for protection. It'd been a long time indeed and I'd let that part of my life get too far away from my daily experience. It certainly was a good thing Marcus had called. I was in need of this.
It was only 9:00 am when we arrived at our destination. We pulled past the gates and into the massive test facility. It was a huge combination of tarmac and concrete. A six and a half mile oval with tremendous banking and straightaways that seemed to go as far as you could see. We parked and I wrestled free of the angry Toyota as it ticked and hissed, in pain from the trip. The two of us walked into the office in the infield and Marc greeted the attendant at the counter.
"Marcus Justice. I've got the track for the day."
"Yep. I've got you down here, MJ Racing Magazine. You paid a premium to get this place all day." responded the woman at the counter.
"Actually, Falken Tires get's to eat that bill. I'm here with my driver. Has the rest of my crew arrived yet?"
"Yes sir, Mr Justice. They've already filled out the releases and headed into the pit area. If you and your friend can fill these forms out, you can get on your was as well." she spoke strongly as she handed us the release forms.
She was an attractive young woman. Probably not more than 25 years old. With her long brown hair and more than generous curves, she hardly looked like she belonged here, wrangeling race drivers and team owners. I filled out my form as she made phone calls and looked up information in the many file cabnets behind the counter. After a few minutes, we both returned our clipboards and handed over our liscenses for copying.
"Carl Rountree. Now I know where I've seen you two before. You guys used to race together back in the 80's." she pratically shouted to us, "My father loved you guys. He had videos of the races you ran. I grew up hearing about you guys. You two are the biggest reason I love racing."
"Thanks. Glad to hear we had SOME positive effect." I replied.
"So what are the two of you doing here anyway?" she asked.
Marcus replied, "I run that magazine these days and I'm doing a test of some late 80's sports cars. He's doing the driving."
"Oh. I had kinda hoped you were starting a racing team together. That'd be great. You guys are legends in sports car racing."
"I don't think either of us are in that condition anymore. I know I'm not" I said.
"Well, good luck and be careful. I'll have to come see what you are doing out there later."
At that, we headed to the pits. It was there I finally learned just exactly what cars I'd be stuffed into today. They were all sitting out there under the warm sun like something from a flashback. Six old Japanese' sports cars, each ready to go and looking like the day it rolled out of the factory.
"These all look like Japanese' spec cars."
"They are, Carl. I had them all shipped over about a month ago."
"That's a '89 Skyline GT-R! Where did you find that?"
"Japan. Just like the others."
"I'll be damned. I've never driven any of these."
"I told you it'd be fun"
"You delivered. So what are we doing with them?"
"Well, first off, you're gonna run all six in the quarter. Then you'll take them around for a top speed run and see what they can do in a straight line. And that's just today."
"What the hell else are you going to make me do, Marc?"
"I've got 3 other tracks for a full day each. All road courses around the area. Well, one's up in Washington."
"Is Laguna Seca on your list?"
"I hoped you wouldn't ask about that just yet."
"I can imagine why. That track almost killed me. I quit racing after that. What the hell were you thinking?"
"Now, damnit, you can drive the track better than anyone and you know it. Just relax. It's last on the list and if you just can't do it, I'll find somewhere else. Let's just get this easy **** over with."
"Alright. Just remind me to kill you later."
"Go get suited up."
I could barely tie my shoes thinking about all this. I was so pleased to get to drive again, but I certainly wasn't ready to hear I was susposed to go to Monterey county again. I was so nervous now, I wasn't sure I'd be able to drive at all. Once I got dressed and headed back to the pits, I started to relax, but I was still less than in the Zone.
"Get in the Celica and make a lap or two to get warmed up. Then go line up at the start and we'll do a quarter mile with it."
"After that?"
"After that, do a top speed lap and we'll move to the next car."
"Sounds good. Let's go. Maybe this will calm my nerves."
I sat down into the the bright red Toyota Celica 2000GT-Four. I knew what hea meant by "missmatched" now. This car had 182 hp. Compaired to the others, four of them were beyond its range out here. The other was a reasonable match.
I headed out and made a couple laps around the giant track. With it's steep banks, it was like a straightaway bent around into an oval. At the moderate speeds I took the car around at, it felt like the little Toyota would fall to the bottom of the track. Once I'd warmed up a bit and gotten to know the car, I headed to sthe starting line and got ready to run the car through 1320 feet giving it all the hell I could. I tached up the noisey little four-cylinder and launched it as hard as I could. I shifted it as quickly as my hands and feet could manage and tried to keep the boot needle up the whole way. For all my abuse, the car managed to run the quarter mile in a seemingly dismal 16.361 seconds with a trap of only 87 miles per hour. I could see why this was my first task. This car was a dud. I assue MArc figured I was totally out of pratice.
"Not bad, Carl. I guess the best the crew could get was a 16.5. Think its got anything left?"
"Hell no. That little bucket was wound for life the whole way."
"Alright. Go back out there and get ready to wind it all the way up."
I headed again to the starting line in the anemic little car and got ready to see how fast is was. I already knew it wasn't quick and I didn't expect much from it now. I guess you could say I was plesantly surprised in the end. I stuffed the car along the first straight and buy the time I got to 113 miles per hour, I still had some straight track and a gear left. I grabbed 5th gear just before I entered teh first turn and the car clawed it's way to 140 before the half way point. I held on and battled the wheel as the car tracked around the high-banked corner and managed to hit the back straight at 144. I felt like the car had a little more to go and the car made a slow climb to 150. At this point the car just felt like it was out of ass and I waited to pass the radar gun. As I did so, I looked down and I was turning 151 miles per hour. About 20 more than I'd expected. I cruised around to the pits again and parked the car back in it's stall.
"Like it better tha time?"
"That was a trip. I never expected to break 130 in the little beast. Tell me more about it."
"Well, its a 1986 Toyota Celica 2000GT-Four. It's got a 1998 cc inline four with dual overhead cams. 182 horsepower and 177 pounds per foot of torque. It'll do zero to 60 in 8.48 seconds and, as you just found out, tops out right around 150 miles per hour."
"I was surprised. After that slow quarter mile time, I really didn't feel like the car had that much ability."
"Yeah. It's a pretty good little car. I kinda like it. Too bad it's ugly."
"Eh, the looks are ok. What's up with all the cars having the same wheels by the way?"
"BBS is one of the sponsors of this little shootout. They supplied us with wheels. Falken is in on this to, so they supplied us with some soft, stickey rubber."
"Sounds like a pretty sweet deal. You getting paid for all this?"
"Not really. I'm trading them some ad space for a few years for their participation. I still have to cover the cost of the cars, shipping, my crew and fuel. But hell, anything that gets you back on a race track can't be too expensive."
"I'm glad you love me. Who's next?"
"The RX-7. Same runs. Get it done."
"My pleasure"
Once again, I'm greeted by a bright red car. This time its a 1985 Mazda RX-7. With is little dual 654cc rotor engine, it build 182 horsepower as well and makes 180 pounds per foot of torque. I've always liked old RX-7s, so I'll try to enjoy this. The BBS Style 016 wheels fit the little red car well. It's pleasing to look at and almot equally pleasing to drive, even if it doesn't prove much faster than the Celica in the quarter. After my couple laps to get comfortable, I manage a 15.938 elapsed time and get the car up to 89 miles per hour.
Same as last time, I head out and make my way around the track to see what kind of top speed the car has to offer. As I make my way along the monster staights and banks, I feel like the little rotary is already done at 140. As I slip off the corner, it's made it's way up to 147. In the end, 148 miles per hour was all it had and I had hoped for more from one of my favorite little '80s cars.
My next trip was in a 1989 Mitsubishi Galant VR-4. At a glance, the car was unimpressive. It looked a well with its mild hood vent and rear spoiler and the silver paint went well with the BBS wheels. But it was still a 4-door sedan. All that went away though, as the 1997 cc DOHC inline 4 pulled the car along making 220 horsepower and 216 pounds per foot of torque. The car and I managed to click off a quarter in 15.488 at 91 miles per hour. I was pleased, and headed around to see what it had up top. I pushed the car around the track and broke onto the back straight at 138 miles per hour and continue to push. At the gun, the car only manages 142 miles per hour. I'm three cars in and so for, it's been mellow. Not for long.
The fourth car in my day was a black '88 Toyota Supra 3.0 GT Turbo A. It had a 2954cc inline six-cylinder that turned out 236 ponies an 253 pounds per foot of torque giving it the launch necessary to actually twist the tires through most of first without some feathering. After a couple laps and a couple paratice launches, I got the car to run a 15.506 at 93 miles per hour. I loved the car, even if it wasn't the quickest so far. It just felt good to me. It didn't hurt that macthed with the wheels provided, it looked mean as hell and sounded tough at idle and most of the way along the track. The car did prove faster around the track though. I managed to get 156 miles per hour out of the car and fell further in love with the cars feeling and look of power, decieving or not.
The next car on the list was one of a pair of Nissans. A 1989 300ZX 2 Seater. With its 2960cc DOHC V6 turbo engine making 275 horsepower and 286 pounds per foot of torque, it was clearly a step up in power and certianly performance as well. It didn't disappoint. The car rant the quarter in 14.053 at 102 miles per hour. At this rate, I was certain to have fun in the next step. I piloted the car back to the starting line and charged off in the bright red arrow to see what kind of grunt it had in the long run. The car blasted into the corner and before the half way point, had already surpassed all previous cars. I charged onto the back stretch at 169 miles per hour and made my way all the way to 172. This car realyl woke me up good and I was ready for the sixth and final car.
And there I was, ready to drive a dark black 1989 Nissan Skyline GT-R. It's 2568cc inline six churned out the highest horsepower of all the cars at 304 and also held the top spot with 288 pounds per foot of torque. I knew this car, with it's all wheel drive setup should make for a good run in the quarter as it would really be able to use all the power it had. Plus, you always save the best for last. The car jerked into action without so much as a chirp and ripped through in 13.790 seconds. It pulled a trap speed of 102 miles per hour. This car was a blast so far. Time to really blast. I pointed the black GT-R down the track and tore through the gears once again, this time heading to the end of them. Though the car made light work of all the previous quarter mile competitors, it came in second to it's Nissan brother on the top speed. The car was fun, none the less. Perhaps more so than the Supra.
I pulled back into the pits for the last time and got up out of the Skyline. Marc greeted me with a bottle of cold water and smile.
"You're still mean out there bud. You haven't lost it."
"You think so?"
"Yeah. Absolutely. You never let the cars get out of line and you hardly broke a sweat doing it."
"Maybe so, but I honestly wondered how I'd do after so long out of the seat. I haven't been on a track since I got wheeled off at Laguna Seca. That was 22 years ago, Marc. It's been a long time."
"I'd say it's about time you make a comeback then. You're a better driver than any I've seen. I think it's a damn shame you left."
"I think you called me to get me back into a real race car. Not these old horses."
"Maybe so, but you've still got three more track to run with these. Better get used to it."
"Hell Marc, I'd like nothing more than to spend a few more days in these beauties. They are a lot of fun."
"And what about your return to Laguna Seca?"
"**** you, Marc. We'll cross THAT bridge when we come to it."
"Good to see you back to your old self. Let's go get dinner. You drive this time."
"I knew that beast from below you called a car was too much for you, old timer."
To be continued......
Sorry this is a mile long. I thinks it's probably WAY too wordy. But it's my first and its been fun. I'll try to get on the next part in a couple days. I've got REAL cars to work on right now. I hope you enjoyed this. Or at least tried to.
Introduction
It had been a damned cold day all of the Monday before last and I was certainly begining to mimic the drearyness outdoors. I'd basically been milling about my home and my shop, moving in routine patterns day after day. After 20 years, running an auto shop just wasn't as exciting anymore. I could certainly remember when I had a good time at work, but those days had seemed to have passed. That is, until the Monday before last.
I was just relaxing in my office when my phone rang. I picked it up and was greeted by a familar voice before I even spoke.
"Good to see you're still alive, you uncaring ass!" bellowed my old friend and teammate Marcus.
"Good afternoon to you as well."
"I've got something going and I could use your help. Fun stuff. Interested," he asked me as if we were still driving on the same team back home, assuming I would be.
"I don't know Marc. I've been damn busy here in the garage. Today is teh first day I've set down for more than 5 minutes."
"That's of no concern. You'll be sitting down the whole time. Come on!"
"Alright, what have you got?" I asked, with an ever so pesimistic tone.
"Six cars that need a test for my magazine. I need a new driver and I figure you could use the time away."
"I can," I wasn't impressed, "but just what the hell do you have?"
"A handful of mismatched, late 1980's Japanese' cars in mint condition."
"I'm in!"
Without further pursuasion, Marc was able to get me on a plane to nothern California where he, and six susposidly beautiful cars, would be waiting. I got on the plane in Columbus, Ohio and about 6 hours later, I touched down in San Francisco. After about half an hour, I'd reached the front of the insanely busy airport and spotted my old friend and his new ride.
"Good to finally see you, Marc."
"You're damn right! You look like hell, bad flight?"
"No. This is just me anymore."
"You really DID need some time away."
"Probably so. So what's the plan?"
"Well, are you up to a little driving today?"
"You're God damn nuts if you think I'm not!"
"Hop in. We'll go meet you new friends."
I climb into the passenger side of his black '97 Supra. As I do so, I'm greeted by a roll cage and 5-point harnesses. He tells me I'll need them as we creep out of the airports lot. I doubted him until we hit the 101 and headed south. The Supra was clearly well built. The interstate was rather empty thanks to a accident north of us and we had a good bit of room to run, and boy did he ever. It was good to see Marc still had his skills. He snapped the Toyota down the highway at nearly 160 miles per hour and gave indifference to the thought of law enforcement coming along.
"To hell with them! Not like they can keep up anyway!" he yelled over the gutteral roar of the car.
"You seem awefully confident, pal."
"600 horsepower will do that!"
He cartainly wasn't joking. It'd been so long since I'd been in a truely powerful car, I'd almost forgotten the intoxication it can cause. I've always had a special relationship with cars. Feeling every movement and every explosion. I'd let the car become part of my body and used it like armor. It was more as if I could run 200 miles per hour and simply wore the car for protection. It'd been a long time indeed and I'd let that part of my life get too far away from my daily experience. It certainly was a good thing Marcus had called. I was in need of this.
It was only 9:00 am when we arrived at our destination. We pulled past the gates and into the massive test facility. It was a huge combination of tarmac and concrete. A six and a half mile oval with tremendous banking and straightaways that seemed to go as far as you could see. We parked and I wrestled free of the angry Toyota as it ticked and hissed, in pain from the trip. The two of us walked into the office in the infield and Marc greeted the attendant at the counter.
"Marcus Justice. I've got the track for the day."
"Yep. I've got you down here, MJ Racing Magazine. You paid a premium to get this place all day." responded the woman at the counter.
"Actually, Falken Tires get's to eat that bill. I'm here with my driver. Has the rest of my crew arrived yet?"
"Yes sir, Mr Justice. They've already filled out the releases and headed into the pit area. If you and your friend can fill these forms out, you can get on your was as well." she spoke strongly as she handed us the release forms.
She was an attractive young woman. Probably not more than 25 years old. With her long brown hair and more than generous curves, she hardly looked like she belonged here, wrangeling race drivers and team owners. I filled out my form as she made phone calls and looked up information in the many file cabnets behind the counter. After a few minutes, we both returned our clipboards and handed over our liscenses for copying.
"Carl Rountree. Now I know where I've seen you two before. You guys used to race together back in the 80's." she pratically shouted to us, "My father loved you guys. He had videos of the races you ran. I grew up hearing about you guys. You two are the biggest reason I love racing."
"Thanks. Glad to hear we had SOME positive effect." I replied.
"So what are the two of you doing here anyway?" she asked.
Marcus replied, "I run that magazine these days and I'm doing a test of some late 80's sports cars. He's doing the driving."
"Oh. I had kinda hoped you were starting a racing team together. That'd be great. You guys are legends in sports car racing."
"I don't think either of us are in that condition anymore. I know I'm not" I said.
"Well, good luck and be careful. I'll have to come see what you are doing out there later."
At that, we headed to the pits. It was there I finally learned just exactly what cars I'd be stuffed into today. They were all sitting out there under the warm sun like something from a flashback. Six old Japanese' sports cars, each ready to go and looking like the day it rolled out of the factory.
"These all look like Japanese' spec cars."
"They are, Carl. I had them all shipped over about a month ago."
"That's a '89 Skyline GT-R! Where did you find that?"
"Japan. Just like the others."
"I'll be damned. I've never driven any of these."
"I told you it'd be fun"
"You delivered. So what are we doing with them?"
"Well, first off, you're gonna run all six in the quarter. Then you'll take them around for a top speed run and see what they can do in a straight line. And that's just today."
"What the hell else are you going to make me do, Marc?"
"I've got 3 other tracks for a full day each. All road courses around the area. Well, one's up in Washington."
"Is Laguna Seca on your list?"
"I hoped you wouldn't ask about that just yet."
"I can imagine why. That track almost killed me. I quit racing after that. What the hell were you thinking?"
"Now, damnit, you can drive the track better than anyone and you know it. Just relax. It's last on the list and if you just can't do it, I'll find somewhere else. Let's just get this easy **** over with."
"Alright. Just remind me to kill you later."
"Go get suited up."
I could barely tie my shoes thinking about all this. I was so pleased to get to drive again, but I certainly wasn't ready to hear I was susposed to go to Monterey county again. I was so nervous now, I wasn't sure I'd be able to drive at all. Once I got dressed and headed back to the pits, I started to relax, but I was still less than in the Zone.
"Get in the Celica and make a lap or two to get warmed up. Then go line up at the start and we'll do a quarter mile with it."
"After that?"
"After that, do a top speed lap and we'll move to the next car."
"Sounds good. Let's go. Maybe this will calm my nerves."
I sat down into the the bright red Toyota Celica 2000GT-Four. I knew what hea meant by "missmatched" now. This car had 182 hp. Compaired to the others, four of them were beyond its range out here. The other was a reasonable match.
I headed out and made a couple laps around the giant track. With it's steep banks, it was like a straightaway bent around into an oval. At the moderate speeds I took the car around at, it felt like the little Toyota would fall to the bottom of the track. Once I'd warmed up a bit and gotten to know the car, I headed to sthe starting line and got ready to run the car through 1320 feet giving it all the hell I could. I tached up the noisey little four-cylinder and launched it as hard as I could. I shifted it as quickly as my hands and feet could manage and tried to keep the boot needle up the whole way. For all my abuse, the car managed to run the quarter mile in a seemingly dismal 16.361 seconds with a trap of only 87 miles per hour. I could see why this was my first task. This car was a dud. I assue MArc figured I was totally out of pratice.
"Not bad, Carl. I guess the best the crew could get was a 16.5. Think its got anything left?"
"Hell no. That little bucket was wound for life the whole way."
"Alright. Go back out there and get ready to wind it all the way up."
I headed again to the starting line in the anemic little car and got ready to see how fast is was. I already knew it wasn't quick and I didn't expect much from it now. I guess you could say I was plesantly surprised in the end. I stuffed the car along the first straight and buy the time I got to 113 miles per hour, I still had some straight track and a gear left. I grabbed 5th gear just before I entered teh first turn and the car clawed it's way to 140 before the half way point. I held on and battled the wheel as the car tracked around the high-banked corner and managed to hit the back straight at 144. I felt like the car had a little more to go and the car made a slow climb to 150. At this point the car just felt like it was out of ass and I waited to pass the radar gun. As I did so, I looked down and I was turning 151 miles per hour. About 20 more than I'd expected. I cruised around to the pits again and parked the car back in it's stall.
"Like it better tha time?"
"That was a trip. I never expected to break 130 in the little beast. Tell me more about it."
"Well, its a 1986 Toyota Celica 2000GT-Four. It's got a 1998 cc inline four with dual overhead cams. 182 horsepower and 177 pounds per foot of torque. It'll do zero to 60 in 8.48 seconds and, as you just found out, tops out right around 150 miles per hour."
"I was surprised. After that slow quarter mile time, I really didn't feel like the car had that much ability."
"Yeah. It's a pretty good little car. I kinda like it. Too bad it's ugly."
"Eh, the looks are ok. What's up with all the cars having the same wheels by the way?"
"BBS is one of the sponsors of this little shootout. They supplied us with wheels. Falken is in on this to, so they supplied us with some soft, stickey rubber."
"Sounds like a pretty sweet deal. You getting paid for all this?"
"Not really. I'm trading them some ad space for a few years for their participation. I still have to cover the cost of the cars, shipping, my crew and fuel. But hell, anything that gets you back on a race track can't be too expensive."
"I'm glad you love me. Who's next?"
"The RX-7. Same runs. Get it done."
"My pleasure"
Once again, I'm greeted by a bright red car. This time its a 1985 Mazda RX-7. With is little dual 654cc rotor engine, it build 182 horsepower as well and makes 180 pounds per foot of torque. I've always liked old RX-7s, so I'll try to enjoy this. The BBS Style 016 wheels fit the little red car well. It's pleasing to look at and almot equally pleasing to drive, even if it doesn't prove much faster than the Celica in the quarter. After my couple laps to get comfortable, I manage a 15.938 elapsed time and get the car up to 89 miles per hour.
Same as last time, I head out and make my way around the track to see what kind of top speed the car has to offer. As I make my way along the monster staights and banks, I feel like the little rotary is already done at 140. As I slip off the corner, it's made it's way up to 147. In the end, 148 miles per hour was all it had and I had hoped for more from one of my favorite little '80s cars.
My next trip was in a 1989 Mitsubishi Galant VR-4. At a glance, the car was unimpressive. It looked a well with its mild hood vent and rear spoiler and the silver paint went well with the BBS wheels. But it was still a 4-door sedan. All that went away though, as the 1997 cc DOHC inline 4 pulled the car along making 220 horsepower and 216 pounds per foot of torque. The car and I managed to click off a quarter in 15.488 at 91 miles per hour. I was pleased, and headed around to see what it had up top. I pushed the car around the track and broke onto the back straight at 138 miles per hour and continue to push. At the gun, the car only manages 142 miles per hour. I'm three cars in and so for, it's been mellow. Not for long.
The fourth car in my day was a black '88 Toyota Supra 3.0 GT Turbo A. It had a 2954cc inline six-cylinder that turned out 236 ponies an 253 pounds per foot of torque giving it the launch necessary to actually twist the tires through most of first without some feathering. After a couple laps and a couple paratice launches, I got the car to run a 15.506 at 93 miles per hour. I loved the car, even if it wasn't the quickest so far. It just felt good to me. It didn't hurt that macthed with the wheels provided, it looked mean as hell and sounded tough at idle and most of the way along the track. The car did prove faster around the track though. I managed to get 156 miles per hour out of the car and fell further in love with the cars feeling and look of power, decieving or not.
The next car on the list was one of a pair of Nissans. A 1989 300ZX 2 Seater. With its 2960cc DOHC V6 turbo engine making 275 horsepower and 286 pounds per foot of torque, it was clearly a step up in power and certianly performance as well. It didn't disappoint. The car rant the quarter in 14.053 at 102 miles per hour. At this rate, I was certain to have fun in the next step. I piloted the car back to the starting line and charged off in the bright red arrow to see what kind of grunt it had in the long run. The car blasted into the corner and before the half way point, had already surpassed all previous cars. I charged onto the back stretch at 169 miles per hour and made my way all the way to 172. This car realyl woke me up good and I was ready for the sixth and final car.
And there I was, ready to drive a dark black 1989 Nissan Skyline GT-R. It's 2568cc inline six churned out the highest horsepower of all the cars at 304 and also held the top spot with 288 pounds per foot of torque. I knew this car, with it's all wheel drive setup should make for a good run in the quarter as it would really be able to use all the power it had. Plus, you always save the best for last. The car jerked into action without so much as a chirp and ripped through in 13.790 seconds. It pulled a trap speed of 102 miles per hour. This car was a blast so far. Time to really blast. I pointed the black GT-R down the track and tore through the gears once again, this time heading to the end of them. Though the car made light work of all the previous quarter mile competitors, it came in second to it's Nissan brother on the top speed. The car was fun, none the less. Perhaps more so than the Supra.
I pulled back into the pits for the last time and got up out of the Skyline. Marc greeted me with a bottle of cold water and smile.
"You're still mean out there bud. You haven't lost it."
"You think so?"
"Yeah. Absolutely. You never let the cars get out of line and you hardly broke a sweat doing it."
"Maybe so, but I honestly wondered how I'd do after so long out of the seat. I haven't been on a track since I got wheeled off at Laguna Seca. That was 22 years ago, Marc. It's been a long time."
"I'd say it's about time you make a comeback then. You're a better driver than any I've seen. I think it's a damn shame you left."
"I think you called me to get me back into a real race car. Not these old horses."
"Maybe so, but you've still got three more track to run with these. Better get used to it."
"Hell Marc, I'd like nothing more than to spend a few more days in these beauties. They are a lot of fun."
"And what about your return to Laguna Seca?"
"**** you, Marc. We'll cross THAT bridge when we come to it."
"Good to see you back to your old self. Let's go get dinner. You drive this time."
"I knew that beast from below you called a car was too much for you, old timer."
To be continued......
Sorry this is a mile long. I thinks it's probably WAY too wordy. But it's my first and its been fun. I'll try to get on the next part in a couple days. I've got REAL cars to work on right now. I hope you enjoyed this. Or at least tried to.
