The Fast Lane

 

Story by David Bell

 

 

"Life in the fast lane - will surely make you loose your mind" - Eagles (1976)

 

 

The Dream

 

The Dream is always the same.

 

I¹m awakened from an uneasy sleep by white, blue, and red emergency lights which strobe the inside walls of the darkened room. I crawl out of bed and peak over the window sill to see that the street in front of the house is filled with police cruisers. Uniformed officers crouch behind their opened car doors with drawn pistols. A large brown van skids to a stop right in front of my driveway and disgorges a swat team - with helmets, full body armor, and sniper rifles with night scopes. The ninjas slink off in all directions and melt into the darkness.

 

A tall man in a dark suit picks up a battery-powered megaphone and begins to speak into it. "The area is completely surrounded. There is no way out. Just open the door peacefully and no one will get hurt." Then silence.

 

Finally, after what seems like forever but is really only a few minutes, the man in the suit scurries away in a crouch ­ consciously keeping his head below the roofline of the police cruisers. Quickly he returns, escorting a crying woman over to one of the police cars where they both huddle behind the opened door for protection. The man in the suit hands the megaphone to the crying woman who fumbles with the controls creating a horrifying electronic shriek.

 

Finally, a shaky but highly amplified voice can be heard all across the neighborhood. "Dave sweetie, it¹s time to stop. You¹ve spent all the grocery money. You¹ve hocked everything of value in the house. The credit cards have all been canceled. You¹ve even raided the kid¹s college fund. We¹re completely broke. You can¹t dump any more money into that Pantera just so you can go a little faster at the racetrack. Now, all these nice men want is to get all their parts back. I know you love your Pantera but please open the garage door and let them in to get their things."

 

I scream out the barely opened bedroom window with all the energy I can muster, "Noooo!"

 

Then I wake up in a panic, sitting bolt upright in bed, covered in sweat. It¹s just a dream. It¹s just a dream. It¹s just a dream....

 

 

Building the Perfect Beast

 

This racetrack stuff is addicting. If you¹ve tried it even once then you know what I mean. My first time on a racetrack was at Texas World Speedway a couple of years ago. I¹d only owned the Pantera a whole entire two weeks. I really didn¹t even want to do it ­ take my brand new Pantera to a racetrack where it might get scratched or bruised. But then I got to thinking - the track entry fee was included with the car purchase. And I¹d bought the Pantera equipped with the full Hall chassis-brace kit and Corvette aluminum calipers with vented disks. I began to rationalize that the car must be at least somewhat track capable. It didn¹t take but a few days before I caved in to a combination of local peer pressure and my own curiosity.

 

So I decided to give the track thing a try. My intent was to just cruise around for a few laps then probably park the car and watch. I really only wanted to see what driving at speed was like ­ and to be able to say that I¹d actually driven on a real Indy Car racetrack. But after about the third lap in my very first session, I went through a complete personality change. That¹s when the racetrack drug kicked in and my attitude shifted from "be careful and don¹t scratch the car" to "I¹ve got to get me some more of this!". I began to push the car and my sophomoric driving abilities further and further. I started to think that I was a natural racecar driver and that a Formula 1 ride might be in the making.

 

Then I spun the car. Then I spun the car again. So much for cruising.

 

But without a doubt I was hooked. So last year before the TWS track event, I did some additional prep work on my slowly evolving Pantera. I unexpectedly ended up building a new engine due to a cam/lifter upgrade gone south, but gained a little extra horsepower and a ten-quart pan from the rebuild. I also added a larger rear sway-bar to keep the Pantera flatter in the turns, removed the stock spring spacers to drop the car down an inch or so, and increased my street tires two sizes in width for a little more cornering grip. The engine ran strong and the Pantera¹s handling was much more predictable. I'd also advanced one run group from the year before and I was driving more quickly and confidently. I started to have visions of getting that Formula 1 ride again.

 

Then I spun the car. Then I spun the car again. Something was obviously wrong with this car.

 

The price of my addiction had just begun to escalate.

 

Last summer I got more serious prepping the car for the track. I installed a set of new aluminum, double adjustable shocks with adjustable spring perches. Now I could really get the center of gravity down low and improve the suspension control at the same time. Turn #1 at TWS would be a breeze now. Aren¹t credit cards great?

 

When Kirby Schrader moved up to super wide track wheels/tires, for just a few measly more dollars, I snatched up his hand-me-down 8"/10" Gotti track wheels complete with Hoosier racing slicks. Then I had the alignment altered by cranking in -1.0 degree camber in the front and -1.75 degrees in the rear. Even the stance of the car had become aggressive. Wow! I was starting to feel like SpeedRacer - stiff suspension, sticky tires, great running engine. I picked up a new full-face helmet as the final touch (just a couple of bucks extra).

 

On the track at Motorsports Ranch last fall, the Pantera was completely transformed. After a few track sessions, I found that I could slide the rear out in a controlled drift and power through the turns. Too cool !!! The racing slicks produced a huge improvement in cornering traction and the limit could now be approached progressively ­ not like the 'on' or 'off' street tires. Just as I was again becoming highly impressed with my newfound driving ability, Todd Reid (who¹d just purchased a basket case Pantera) stopped by and asked for a ride. Sure I said. Then, with Todd in the passenger seat, I promptly drifted the right rear tire about 6 inches off the pavement exiting an uphill, off-camber, left-hand turn.

 

And I spun the car.

 

It was not a routine spin. I had my foot in it and was accelerating out of the turn when I slipped off the pavement- so the off-road part was plenty exciting. Luckily the run-off area was flat and, except for scuffing my right-side rocker cover paint taking out the orange corner cone, no damage was done. After the gigantic, choking dust cloud dust had settled, Todd remarked that I seemed abnormally calm going roundy-round in the dirt at high speed. I replied that I was so used to spinning the car that it wasn¹t a big deal anymore. Todd didn¹t ask to ride with me again.

 

But clearly my driving showed improvement, as I'd been able to reduce the number of spins from the normal two per track event to only one. I just needed to do a few more things to get the car really set up properly. Money is always the solution. Unfortunately, money is always the problem as well.

 

After Motorsports Ranch, my wife Marilyn mentioned that this track stuff was maybe getting a little out of proportion. OK. That¹s fair enough. So I did some focused self-introspection and got all my family and financial obligations in their proper order. First things first! That lasted for about five minutes until the racetrack drug took over and told me to finish setting up the Pantera for the track.

 

I¹d noticed that my rear wheel bearings had developed some play and I was concerned about the strain I was placing on the reputedly soft and undersize stock rear axles with sticky racing tires. The last thing I wanted was for a rear wheel and tire to take off on a trajectory different than the rest of the car - especially at 100 mph. And clearly, when safety is an issue, money is secondary. Right? I only had to come up with a few more bucks.

 

Unfortunately for me, Marilyn had by now recognized my condition and had moved our vacation fund to a secret account in a Swiss bank. Desperate for cash, I happened to notice my daughter¹s huge collection of crushed aluminum cans that she¹d left unguarded in gigantic garbage bags in the garage. Well, those can bags sure were big and they were starting to interfere with my racecar wrenching. Besides, Kate¹s only eight after all so she¹s got plenty of time to save for college. I sold the cans. When I combined the can money with some other change that I¹d stashed away (it¹s amazing what you can find under sofa cushions at parties), I had just enough to finish the car.

 

Temporarily flush with funds and with help from Gray Gregory and his incredibly well equipped shop, I removed and disassembled the entire rear suspension, including both rear uprights. I was surprised to discover that my rear axles were not stock at all, but aftermarket, forged steel versions. New double-width wheel bearings completed the rear upright rebuild. The rear suspension bushings had been replaced at some point in the past with polyurethane and were all in good shape. Replacing the rear upright pivot shafts and bushings finished it off. Now I had a like-new rear suspension with absolutely no free play. Hmmm... and I could spend the money I¹d set aside for new axles on something else. Bonus!

 

So I removed the tired and disintegrating 30-year-old front suspension bushings and replaced them with new offset poly bushings (increased caster). At the same time I completely disassembled and cleaned the steering rack ­ replacing both accordion boots as well as the pinion shaft seal. For just a couple more dollars I picked up a set of front and rear sphere-bars, which would eliminate any unwanted sway-bar binding in my soon to be completely stressed suspension. I then upgraded my front and rear street brake pads with a set of grippy Porterfield track pads.

 

Done! I¹d built the perfect beast ­ well, perfect for me anyway. The Pantera was now absolutely, positively ready for TWS. No way was I going to spin the car this time out. A couple of weeks prior to the 2002 TWS track event, Kirby Schrader told me that this year I was being bumped up to the yellow run group - which would be loaded with experienced drivers. Well, I¹d wanted to run in the fast lane. The car was ready ­ the bigger question now was whether the driver was up to it.

 


A Day at the Races

 

Texas World Speedway opened in 1969 as a premier 'Super Speedway' for NASCAR, Indy Car, and Grand Prix racing. The two-mile, high-banked TWS oval was designed to compete with other high-speed tracks of the day such as Indianapolis, Daytona, Talledega, and Pocono. With 22-degree banking in the turns and 8-degree banking on the sweeping front straight, a properly set-up car could attain incredible speeds on the TWS oval. In 1973, Mario Andretti set the world closed-course speed record of 214 mph during qualifying for the Texas 500. Indy cars since then have reached unofficial speeds of up to 238 mph. In addition to the main banked oval, the TWS track facility also has 1.5, 1.8, 1.9, 2.9, and 3.0 mile 'road' courses that combine portions of the oval with twisty infield layouts.

 

Though Texas World Speedway no longer hosts NASCAR or Indy Car races, the track is well maintained and was extensively resurfaced in 1991. A.J. Foyt and Mario Andretti still use the TWS track for testing and pre-race setup for their racing efforts. Best of all for us racetrack addicts, TWS is now a spectacular venue for SCCA club racing and private track events.

 

The TWS track event for 2002 would again use the 2.9-mile road course. This layout features about ½ mile of the front straight (which is really a broad, banked sweeper) and roughly 2 ½ miles of infield. There are a total of 15 turns in the 2.9 miles, nine left-handers and six right-handers. The road course twisties vary from the 170 degree, 30mph Turn #10 hairpin to Turn #1 at the end of the front straight - where those with enough car and enough nerve can burn through flat-out at 140mph plus. The rest of the infield is full of off-camber, screaming over-the-hill can¹t see the turn-in point (#8), gun it too soon and spin into the wall (#15), smoke the brakes to slow down enough to stay out of the weeds (#2), double 'S' leading out of the infield (#13, #14), and flat-out in fourth, dive down to the banked squash-your-guts apex, then blast out (#7) turns. Plus there¹s that 100mph back straight to rip through. Driving quickly and carrying speed at TWS is not for the faint of heart ­ but what a ride!

 

 

The Fast Lane

 

My driving instructor¹s name is Bill Buck. Sounds like a Texas guy doesn¹t it . Bill Buck races a BMW M3. Bill Buck is a very good driver. I know because I rode with him. Bill Buck can make that little M3 dance. But Bill Buck has never been in a Pantera before. And a Pantera does not drive like a BMW M3. We¹re both in for a little on-the-job training.

 

Just like last year, the track is damp for the first session. I don¹t really mind a damp track though. At Motorsports Ranch last fall, I¹d learned that when warmed up, the Hoosier slicks were amazingly sticky even when the road surface was wet ­ much better than treaded street tires as long as there was no standing water to slosh through. Even with sticky tires though, sudden moves in the wet will usually get you off the pavement in a hurry. What a wet track is really good for though is forcing you to drive smoothly. And 'smooth' happens to be a good thing on a dry track as well. Driving a little slower also means I have a chance to re-acquaint myself with the lines through the turns - which I¹ve gotten a little rusty at since the last time I was here a year ago. Bill Buck keeps telling me to take it easy. My ears are wide-awake.

 

But by the next yellow group session, the track is completely dry and the pace picks up. I am surprised at how many cars I have to wave past me. Running in the lower run groups, I was rarely passed. The yellow group is different though. Yellow is packed with experienced, skilled drivers. Many of them drive at TWS frequently and some are using the track event to prep highly modified cars for racing. I¹m sort of embarrassed that these guys are piling up behind me and my hot-rod Pantera. The realization hits that horsepower alone isn¹t going make me competitive with this group. I¹ve got to drive better - not just muscle my way around the track.

 

Bill Buck keeps reminding me that the 'speed' will come after I get the 'smooth' part down. I know he¹s right but it¹s really hard not to chase the faster drivers to show them that this Pantera really can keep up. I concentrate on running the smoothest, tightest line that I can manage and force myself to just wave the faster drivers by. My goal is to make only a single steering wheel movement for each corner. If I set up the turn properly and carry the right line, then I shouldn¹t have to adjust on the exit. Just power out and let the steering wheel unwind.

 

Slowly I begin to improve. I can carry more speed into and through the turns and accelerate hard out of them, using up all of the track on the exit. With the sticky Hoosier slicks, I¹m able to hammer the brakes hard enough to make the pads stink without locking up the front tires. Even Turn #1, where you dive off the steep banking into the infield flat at way over 120 mph, is less intimidating. This is the same Turn #1 where last year my stock suspension got totally slammed, resulting in bent inner fender lips. But the new coil-over setup is working perfectly ­ no ugly tire noises this time. I begin to pass a few of those previously faster cars.

 

Then Twilight Zone time. While pushing an aggressive line through Turn #5, out of nowhere the rear end comes loose and the car rockets off the track backwards.

 

And I spin the car.

 

Similar to my last spin at Motorsports Ranch, I was accelerating hard through the corner when I lost it. Only this time I¹m really moving so the spin ends up being a fairly scary ride. The car does a series of high-speed, amusement-park-ride rotations where both passengers are held in place only by the restraining belts. I catch glimpses of trees going by as we bump along, round and round. I¹m just along for the ride at this point but I hope the car stops before we hit any of them. When the Pantera finally grinds to a halt, the open windows have captured a dump truck full of dust and dead grass that swirls around the cabin like a baby tornado. By shear reflex I'd gotten 'both feet in' on the pedals when the spin started and now the lumpy exhaust rumble tells me that somehow the engine is still running. The circling debris slowly settles on Bill Buck and me as we sit coughing, trying to catch our breath.

 

Neither of us says anything for about ten seconds. Then Bill Buck asks me the standard driving instructor question after a major mistake, 'Do you know what you did wrong?' No. I don¹t have a clue. I was a little too hot and maybe a little high in Turn #5 - but I had it under control. I have no idea what happened to fling me off the track so suddenly. It makes me feel a little better when Bill Buck admits the spin even surprised him and he doesn¹t know what I did wrong either. Then he tells me he counted three full 360-degree rotations. When I ask him how he had the presence of mind to count the spins, Bill Buck tells me that¹s how many times he nervously watched the trees go by the passenger window. Oddly, those trees sure seem further away now that the car is stopped than they did when we were twirling past them.

 

Yellow flags are out everywhere by the time I can reverse the car back through the low grass and out to the edge of the track. I ease back onto the pavement and begin the long slow cruise around to the hot pits to get my lecture from the track boss. All the dust and grass not attached to our faces and glasses again begins to swirl through the cockpit. Only a little makes it back out through the open widows. Incredibly, the Pantera and both passengers appear to be intact and undamaged except that the steering wheel is slightly off-center. I notice a dead-engine Ford Lightning sitting in the dirt to the side of the straight away just past Turn #6. I wonder if my off-road whoop-de-do distracted him into the ditch as well.

 

On the way in to the pits, Bill Buck tells me that we have to come up with a good story to appease the track boss or he won¹t let me back out for the next session. Since neither of us really knows what happened, we agree to tell the track boss that I was a little too high on the turn exit, got into some gravel or tire boogers on the edge of the track, and then slipped off. Sounds reasonable, even though I really don¹t believe it.

 

Then the entire yellow run group gets a 15-minute, engine-off break in the hot pits. Bill Buck and I get out of the car and dust ourselves off, then wipe the dirt film off our glasses. I rake a couple of handfuls of dead grass off the top of the dash. Finally, a rollback wrecker passes by with the broken Lightning strapped to the bed. Then the track boss begins waving the cars back onto the track. Bill Buck reminds me of our off-the-pavement excuse. To my complete amazement, the track boss waves me out too ­ no questions asked. I wasn¹t kicked off the track? I didn¹t even get a finger pointing, 'don¹t do that again' warning? Bill Buck just shakes his head in disbelief as we head out to finish the session. Then he gives me the 'don't do that again' lecture, even though neither of us knows what 'that' is.

 

Not surprisingly, the rest of that session got driven at a pretty relaxed pace. There was only time for a few more laps anyway and the spin had shaken my confidence and definitely taken the edge off my concentration. Just as we pulled off the track and into the garage area, the rollback finished unloading the Lighting. I took my helmet off and walked over to rubberneck at the broken truck. The driver and his instructor were explaining to a small crowd that the supercharged Lightning snapped a motor mount under hard acceleration somewhere around Turn #5. Apparently the loose engine twisted and banged around enough to rip through the main radiator hose and then shear the oil filter off at the block. Even a quick shutdown couldn¹t keep the load of leaking Lightning liquids (try to say that five times fast) from getting dumped onto the track surface. The Lightning owner mentioned that he¹d heard that a couple of cars behind him went off after hitting his spilled goo puddles. It was suddenly clear to me that the Lightning coolant was the 'that' that slid me off the track.

 

So I had to volunteer that it was true that at least one car went off behind him and that I was driving it. I never saw any goop on the track but I sure did step in it (hmmm... now that I think about it, that sounds real similar to a problem my tennis shoes have with doggie landmines in the backyard at home). Then I spent a couple of minutes in a rather dim spotlight describing my off-road adventure, which was both fun and un-nerving. It¹s a little like surviving a plane crash. It makes for a good story as long as you don¹t die. I kept thinking about those trees flashing past the window. The fast lane may take getting some used to.

 

 

The Rest of the Story

 

The Pantera turnout for TWS track event has increased every year since it¹s inception in 1998. Thanks to Kirby Schrader's persistence, TWS 2002 was no different with 17 Panteras on hand and lots of additional owners/admirers. Panteras always seem to draw a crowd, even when the crowd is hardcore Porsche, BMW, Viper, and Ferrari owners. It¹s no surprise though, as the sight and sound of a bunch of Panteras screaming around a racetrack is awe-inspiring.

 

Gary Hall showed up from California with his beautiful blue Pantera ('POPKAL' license plates). Gary bought it new in 1972 and it was his first Pantera. POPKAL sports many of Hall¹s production modifications, one of the most obvious being an impressive throaty sound from the reproduction GTS exhaust system. Gary had POPKAL moving through the TWS corners briskly with Tom Upton co-piloting.

 

Dennis Quella, of Pantera Performance Center fame, flew in from Colorado. Unfortunately Dennis had to leave his tube-frame racecar at home with last minute fuel injection problems. We also missed Mad Dawg Antennuchi and Mike Drew this year at TWS ­ both had prior commitments they couldn't get out of.

 

Dennis Jones (Profiles Pantera of the Quarter a couple of issues ago), Jim Narum (Space City Panteras Pres), and Jim Thompson (the Houston Aussie) tracked their Panteras for the first time. All three went home with 'Cheshire Cat' grins on their faces. Dennis Kaufman brought his Pantera to TWS from Nacogdoches, Texas for the second year in a row. Dr. Dennis has made major improvements to his suspension that flattened out the cornering stance since last year. Dennis' wife did complain that the Kirkey racing seat on the passenger side wasn¹t all that comfortable though. Nick Sakulenski couldn't quite get his Pantera engine ready in time but tore up the track with his screaming little Miata from McAllen instead.

 

Bob Radefeld drove his gorgeous red Pantera down to TWS from Topeka, surprised everyone by thrashing it on the track for two days, and then drove it home on Sunday. The Radefeld Pantera is absolutely spectacular with one of the most beautiful engine compartments you¹ll ever see ­ very tasteful chrome and stainless pieces everywhere.

 

Mark Krivanek brought his tube-frame, fiberglass body Pantera down from Oklahoma. This Pantera has an unusual history and is one of only three cars built by Long and Newman in the 1980¹s before the company went bankrupt (Dennis Quella races one of the other two L&N cars). With the front and rear deck lids closed to hide the tubing, it¹s difficult to tell the L&N from a stock steel Pantera. Mark and his dad had the plastic car moving quickly on the track but fought a running two-day battle with cooling system problems.

 

Bill Borillo, Dan Mixon (with son John), and Louis Schauldt (with his sub-12 second ¼ mile, NOS equipped Cleveland) all drove their Panteras to the track from Houston. William King (Mr. Webber) and Rick Inserra Pantera'd in from Austin and brought Richard Greenblum along with them. Mark Prise, visiting from Aberdeen, Scotland, road to the track in Kirby's Lightning pickup. Jack Tunnell and Robin (Dallas), Mark and Candace Pinson (Dallas), Michael Frazier (San Antonio), and new GTS owners Randy and Jamie Pike (Houston), chipped in with bench racing and pit support. Bob (Corvette Bob) Pitaro came out from Houston and Todd Reid brought his whole family in from Oklahoma. Wayne and Cheryl Stevens got the long distance award by flying in from Maryland just to hang with the TWS Pantera crowd. Fred Hall¹s significant other, Lisa Phelps (along with her daughter Erica), did a great job peddling Space City Pantera t-shirts and caps to everyone who stopped to gawk at the Panteras. Erica even spent the day Sunday keeping my two young daughters occupied when my wife Marilyn had to head home early.

 

Daughters Kate (8 yrs) and Caroline (3.5 yrs) performed admirably collecting autographs and generally helping out the Pantera crowd with all sorts of difficult mechanical repairs. Luckily, no one reported any missing tools this year. Both girls got to see the track up close from the passenger seat of dad¹s Pantera during Sunday¹s parade laps. I intentionally dropped back from the pack to gain some running room so that the girls could experience the corners at a little more speed. They giggled the whole time.

 

The TWS track event was tough on the cars though. Fred Hall had to trailer his yellow and black GTS home after working for two days to finally get his fuel mixture right. White smoke was sneaking out of the left side exhaust. Fred is already planning for a new Windsor stroker. But we¹re still waiting for Fred to push the red button on that NOS fogger he installed over the winter (come on Fred, you can¹t hurt that old engine now).

 

Kirby Schrader finally put a chink in his long time bulletproof 377 stroker. Kirby came in late Sunday with a serious engine knock that everyone assumed was a blown rod bearing. An engine teardown afterward uncovered a cracked piston and a broken compression ring. The engine racket was from a couple of pieces of the broken ring that had gotten imbedded in the piston crown and were then banging into the roof of the combustion chamber. Kirby thinks it was running lean. The good news was that the stroker¹s bottom end appears to be in excellent shape though. We found out later that the Z-06 Corvette that Kirby was dicing with when he cracked the piston, toasted its aluminum V-8 trying to stay ahead. At least Kirby got some satisfaction in knowing he¹d taken out the enemy.

 

Shortly after giving me a live-action demonstration that you don¹t even have to lift before launching off into Turn #7 flat-out, John Taphorn retired his yellow Pantera with a slipping clutch. John headed home early driving the Pantera. He almost made it. The clutch gave out at a stop sign near his house and John had to recruit a couple of neighbors to help push the car the last two blocks. But Ol¹ Yeller is now safely tucked away in the garage awaiting a new clutch and flywheel.

 

Tom Upton banged his Pantera racecar off the inside wall at TWS during a vintage race a couple of weeks before the track event (Tom¹s now looking for two new front fenders, a right rear quarter panel, and a hood ­ among other things). But since he¹d already paid the track fee, Tom mounted his gigantic racecar wheels and slicks on his street Pantera for the track event. The rear tires stuck out a full six inches past his fenders. But Tom only lasted a few laps impersonating a slot-car before parking it. I think he couldn¹t stand being on a racetrack without his 700 hp race engine.

 

Perhaps Tom¹s biggest contribution to the track weekend was bringing fiancée Jeanette, along with a huge motor home that served as the unofficial Team Pantera Racing headquarters. Most of the really good bench racing happened in Tom and Jeanette¹s mobile kitchen. Jeanette also cooked up some dynamite spaghetti and meatballs Saturday and then invited the entire Pantera crowd to lunch in between track sessions.

 

Saturday night everyone gathered at T-Bone Jones steakhouse for the second annual TWS banquet. There were easily 50 Pantera fanatics cramming the room reliving the day¹s events. After dinner, Space City Pantera bossman Jim Narum gave out People¹s Choice Awards for Best Pantera (Kirby Schrader¹s Silver Streak, ­ but that was before the blown engine), Best Paint (Fred Hall¹s bumble-bee colored, nitrous ready GTS), Prettiest Engine (who - David Bell??). My car won over Bob Radefeld¹s stunning engine bay? Bob must have had his car out on the track when the crowd voted. I¹ll just hold on to the trophy temporarily until Bob comes back next year.

 

The last award of the evening was for the SpinMiester. Since I was the only one to spin a Pantera, guess who took that one home. The 2002 SpinMiester trophy appropriately features a spinning female ice skater and is now displayed prominently on the top shelf of my daughter Kate's bedroom closet ­ right next to the Etch-a-Sketch.

 

For the second year in a row, the most entertaining part of the TWS track weekend was the Saturday picture session. Everyone who¹d driven a Pantera to the track was allowed to line up on either side of the checkered TWS finish line for a sixteen car panoramic picture. You really start to appreciate how steep the TWS banking is when your car starts rolling down the slope with the gearbox in reverse and the engine off. Anybody bring any wheel chocks? Somehow we forgot to rerun last year¹s impromptu footrace across the TWS finish line where Mad Dawg jumped off to a big lead but got nosed by Kirby Schrader at the wire.

 

After the photo session, all the Panteras circled the 2.9 mile course as a group and then crossed the finish line three abreast NASCAR style. The sound of sixteen synchronized Clevelands roaring down the TWS front straight was incredible.

 

 

Saved by Zero

 

TWS once again reminded me that even though my driving has improved dramatically from the first time out two years ago, I'm a long way from the driver that I¹d like to be. I still haven¹t really figured out Turn #6 at TWS and don¹t have the nerve to hit Turn #1 or Turn #7 without lifting. But I am getting better. I¹m convinced that the car just needs a couple more track tweaks to get it just right.

 

This year at TWS, I was surprised that I was able to out-drive my aftermarket Corvette brakes for the first time (they were getting pretty mushy trying to make it into Turn #2). A new set of Wilwood aluminum calipers would be just the ticket. And I guess I¹d have to have some of that expensive, high-temp racing brake fluid to fill the calipers with. Since I'll be going so much faster, I really need a full 5-point racing harness to keep me locked in place in the turns. And I definitely have to have an oil temperature sensor in the pan and a dash gauge so that I don¹t over heat my engine oil. And if I¹m really going to get serious, I absolutely have to get a trailer so that I can haul the Pantera to track events all over the country. And I¹ll probably need a truck to pull the trailer ­ a diesel F-250 would be just about right.

 

Marilyn just smiles and humors my addiction. She knows my Pantera account is practically empty and I have no money for more Pantera track mods. The family finances are hidden away out of my reach. She thinks she¹s safe. I can't spend what I don¹t have. Saved by zero.

 

But wait a minute, the Pocono track event is only a couple of months away. I absolutely have to get the car ready for Pocono ­but where is the cash going to come from? Hey, maybe I can sell all those perfectly good stock Pantera parts that I've been taking off the car over the last two years ­ radiator, pan, brakes, water pump, lots of good stuff. And we¹ve got plenty of other junk in the garage that¹s just in the way. A yard sale would definitely bring in a few bucks. Oh, and I could even set up a lemon-aid stand in front of the house that the girls could work after school. Every little bit helps.

 

And... I wonder where Kate stashed those recycle cans this time. They¹ve got to be around here somewhere. Maybe they¹re in the attic... where¹s my flashlight?

 

 

The Dream is always the same.