Mark:
What a story! You had me on the edge of my seat during the race. And
you put it very well when you said: "I remember the age of feeling
indestructible. Get a few close calls or a good serious sickness and
you can lose that feeling quickly. Mine had been gone for
about 30 years."
If I'd had my tiger at 20, I'd probably have wrapped it around a tree
and killed myself. At 45, having finally just aquired my "beast", I'm
hopeful that I have enough awareness of my own mortality to avoid that.
Time will tell.
Regards
David Sosna
CoolVT@aol.com wrote:
>
> Anyway, my mouth has gotten me into a fix. I secretly hope that Mr. Miata
> might decide to pull into one of the upcoming restaurants. Yeah, that's it,
> he's just in a hurry because he needs a rest room! After going by two
> possibilities, that hope is dashed. I need a quick alternate plan. My next
> thought is to wait until we come out of curve, drop it into 3rd, floor it,
> really surprise him and tear down the road as fast as that Tiger will run.
> If I can get a real good jump, I might be far enough ahead that I can
> declare victory (to Lisa), and let off. Then I could mumble something about
> how I can't afford to lose my license for speeding because I need to drive
> for my work. Hell, she'll understand. We will have wiped him out. With the
> speed and the sound of the mufflers she'll figure we were up to about 100
> anyway.
>
> I speed up a little to be sure that he doesn't sneak by before I am ready for
> my move. As we head up a hill the mufflers start their drone and he drops
> back to about 300 feet. "Hmmm, maybe the sound of the V8 gave him second
> thoughts." I'm hoping that he saw something printed on the back of the car
> that said Tiger. Maybe that rang a bell for him. Maybe he remembered what
> his father told him. He'll probably just back off very gradually to save the
> embarrassment rather than test the legend. While he's sitting 300' back I'm
> really trying to remember if the car does say Tiger on the back. Hmmm, I
> think it says Sunbeam and has an emblem. Wished I had gotten out there a
> little more often to wash the thing and know everything that's printed there.
>
>
> No difference. He's back to one car length again. Now we all know this is a
> male macho challenge thing. It would be bad enough if I was alone, but I had
> just about promised the Lisa a race. I had originally thought that when I
> mentioned "race" to her that she would get a sheepish smile, act brave, but
> very nervous. I would then be the perfect gentleman protecting my woman and
> just back off, being the hero for protecting her delicate constitution. Who
> would ever imagine that someone looking like her would yell ,"YAAAA!", when
> she heard the word "race." I realized that we're going to end up going a
> little faster than I had planned on. There doesn't seem to be a way out of
> it.
>
> We head up a hill and he drops back to 300' again. I'm trying to keep an eye
> on the road ahead, an eye on the rear mirror and occasionally check on Lisa's
> reaction. By this time she knows something is going on even though no one
> has really made a move. I try to study her cheek muscles. Her perfect white
> teeth are clenched to cut off the smile and that tell tale muscle shows up in
> the cheek. She loves it so far! I kind of wonder how much it will take to
> scare her. I know it's not going to take a whole lot for me. I remember the
> age of feeling indestructible. Get a few close calls or a good serious
> sickness and you can lose that feeling quickly. Mine had been gone for
> about 30 years. Now when I risk something I know what is at stake and what
> can happen. Now, it's a calculated risk. There's no calculating the
> stupidity that I'm about to get involved in. I look back and am shocked to
> see that he's 150' back and "coming on fast." I have 2 seconds to realize
> that this is it. If I hesitate too long he'll have the momentum and fly by
> me. If I really put it through the floor I might have a slight chance.
> Since we're climbing I think that the Tiger and its torque might keep me
> ahead. By the time I get moving his headlight is almost up to my door. Now
> we've almost hit a stalemate. We're doing about 50 and I'm watching the road
> and his headlight. You can't hear the MIata at all. You can hear the Tiger
> clear into the next town. This is the time when an owner wishes he had said
> to hell with it and blown the $3,000-$4,000 for a hot engine. Maybe a HO
> 289 or one of those GT-40 5.0 Liter that Summitt Racing advertises. Then you
> wouldn't be stuck out here with the risk of being embarrassed by a Miata. The
> road is clear for the next 1/4 mile or so. If something heads down his lane
> he's going to have to let up. With that, I will slow way down and declare a
> complete victory. We're coming up to the sweeping right hander and the road
> is leveling off. Now the Miata must be starting to wind into its peak
> horsepower curve because it begins to creep ahead. The driver knows now that
> he's going to get by me. We can see around the curve and there's no
> traffic. The driver finally looks over and has a grin that could invite the
> tip of a steel toe boot. He's enjoying it way too much. By now he is just
> about by us. His stare stays on me and when he finally looks back his left
> wheel is on the gravel shoulder. The gravel drags his car a little to the
> left. He panics. He should probably let off the gas gradually and try to
> slow down riding the gravel. Instead he jerks the wheel to the right trying
> to get off the shoulder. The car goes just slightly right and then the back
> goes left. In a split second he is going sideways half on the road and half
> on the shoulder. I brake hard. I mean I'm standing on the pedal. Another
> thought...why the hell did I leave the CAT bypass pipe on instead of
> rebuilding the brake booster. As he slides, gravel is flying and hitting
> trees and at the same time the tires on the pavement are screaming. In
> almost slow motion, his car continues its slide around in a circle. Now he
> is facing us and going backwards. The look on his face is one that I will
> never forget. Gone is the smug race driver. This is a man at the complete
> mercy of physics and of his maker. He actually looked like something from
> another planet. To this day I have never seen a face look like that. I
> firmly believe that he was unconscious and paralyzed, but with his eyes open.
> Lady luck was on his side. There was a long gravel pull off on the left
> side used in the winter by state snow plow trucks to turn around. He crashed
> into the turn-around and slid to a flying stop. I had by now gone by the
> spot, braked quickly, checked the road and roared onto the gravel. I told
> Lisa I'd be right back. I walked over and the guy was completely dazed and
> couldn't move. He looked at me and couldn't say a thing. I asked him three
> times if he was okay. There sat a man who figured he'd just used up one of
> his nine lives. Cheated the grim reaper. I was worried that he wouldn't be
> able to drive home. After 2 or 3 minutes he finally said that he was okay,
> but he wanted to sit there for a while. I asked again if he was okay and he
> said yes. I hated to leave him if he was going to have a heart attack or
> something. No, he said he was really okay.
>
> Going back to the car I realized how much I was shaking. Now, I'm sure that
> the people who do this crazy stuff for a living would think this little
> incident was just a joke, but I'm definitely not a professional driver. Lisa
> was staring off into space and not saying a word. The mouth with the white
> teeth was slightly open. The muscles in the cheeks were totally relaxed. I
> doubt there was enough strength left to tighten them. There was no smile.
> I said, "You know it's getting pretty late, I should probably head home." No
> answer from that side at all, and definitely, no argument against the
> decision.
>
> The ride home was pretty slow and very silent. I thought about the day and
> the days leading up to "the ride." Lisa had shared a few things that really
> gave me some insight into the thinking of the female mind. They would be
> another story though. I had finally gotten Lisa into the car. I had a day
> that will stick with me for a long time and I think Lisa had a ride that
> won't easily be forgotten. I can't wait to see the young guys in the
> driveway with Lisa when I back the Tiger out and make the glass packs talk a
> little. I'm sure in the telling that little race on Rt 100 will have been at
> speeds approaching 100mph. I'm convinced that in the way that Lisa will
> tell it, there will be very little diminishing the legend of the Tiger in
> Vermont.
>
> Epilogue:
> Lisa has suggested that we go out some night, have a few drinks and listen to
> some music. She had me over for dinner and described me to her sister as the
> "gentleman" from across the street. I think "gentleman" to a younger person
> means an "old person", doesn't it?
>
> Parked next to the Tiger, in the garage across from Lisa, is my Harley. Yup,
> glass packs on it. It wants to stumble and stall when first started and has
> to be revved quite a bit, especially when the neighbors are washing their
> cars:)
>
> Mark L.
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