- 6,092
- Finland
Bird, Bird, Bird is the Word
It was a dark and stormy night.
No no, that belongs to another story... it was a sunny Sunday morning when I sat in front of my computer and noticed a familiar *beep* to notify me of a new email. After signing in I saw a message from a person I had never heard of and thought that someone must have sent their email into the wrong address. But no, as I began reading a message I realized that it really was addressed to me and the person (some old gentleman from North Carolina) wanted to present me one of the cars he had in his garage. Now I had a faint memory of a man I had met in a race a few weeks earlier but I had no idea where he had fished my email address from. He would pay the airplane tickets and even the Greyhound ride across the country (I have always wanted to do that
) so I gladly accepted the offer and began planning the trip.After arriving at the airport I saw a man holding a sign with my name on it, walked to him and asked him if he was the person I was to meet - after getting a positive answer we boarded the bus and began the journey towards NC. He told me long stories about stock car racing, which still didn't ring any bells in my head, and I remember thinking that he looked somehow familiar but couldn't put a finger on his personality. I began humming one of my favourite songs, one of the verses is "In the moonlight, see the Greyhound rollin' on." and fell asleep as we travelled through the night.
I woke up while the guy was shaking my shoulder and telling me that we were in our destination. All right, out of the bus and let the walking begin. After a short while we arrived at a huge house. Damn, I thought, these folks must be rich. I was presented to a man (the guy welcoming me at the airport was his son) with a moustache and sunglasses, he was indeed the man I had met in that race. Still no idea about his name, and I was stupid enough not to ask it now. Oh well, chatting aside and we made our way to a garage...
I was astonished when in the dim light I saw one of the most successful and legendary American stock car racers ever, the huge Plymouth Superbird. How an earth did this guy have one of these ultra rare machines in his garage? I thought it would be too blunt to ask it directly so I didn't. I just looked at it in awe, the shark-looking muscle car with a huge rear wing was one of the cars I had always dreamt of and now I was standing next to one. And then the man dropped the bomb. "You'll be driving it today!" Rrright... having managed to calm my racing heart down we shook hands and proceeded to find me a racing suit and a helmet, not to forget a pair of racing shoes and gloves. All in blue with white trim, I noticed and wondered why - I hadn't actually seen the colour of the car in the garage, just recognized the body shape.
The driving was to occur on the famous Californian race course Infineon Raceway, better known as the Sears Point. I wondered how the big car would cope with the tight corners and fast S-turns but as I would later find out, those weren't problems at all.
When we had finally arrived at the raceway I was given a short briefing about the car. "It's not a usual road Superbird... the engine has been tweaked a little and the rest of the chassis isn't exactly stock either. As you probably know the stock 426 Hemi pumped out 425 brake horsepower but this one has a bit more, 722 to be exact."
OK, a real monster. "The engine is coupled with a modern six-speed sequential box; it's so much more comfortable to use then the original four-speed. The powertrain also has a new clutch, flywheel and differential." Great, tons of torque and enough gears to ensure staying on the powerband. "Naturally the chassis has been lightened, the car is 299 kg lighter on its feet than the stock model and to further improve the handling, it stands on a fully adjustable race suspension." So, am I actually driving a Superbird on steroids? Oh yes. "The paintwork is Jamaica Blue, complete with white trim and I've also put matching Yokohama wheels on it, just to make the exterior as balanced as it can be." Nothing to argue here, the car looks outright stunning... but how will it drive? "You'll find out soon, get into your racing overalls and head onto the track. Just remember not to floor it on the lowest gears."
Starting the engine produces a giant growl from the twin exhaust pipes sized like beer cans. I gingerly give the powerhouse some throttle and feel the entire car vibrating, like a well-trained horse wanting to get loose. This is the moment, time to get the job done. Engage the clutch, select the first gear, slowly release the clutch and off we go.
And the car really goes, just a small blip on the throttle makes it leap forward with rocket-like acceleration pushing me into the seat. The steering must have been beefed up too, no way that those old muscle cars would have had this sharp and fast steering. The big old Plymouth glides effortlessly through the corners, not feeling like a muscle car at all, it feels just like a race car - which it actually was built to be. I took the first laps easily, not wanting to wreck this automotive masterpiece in the tyre barriers. Slowly I built some confidence on the car and began attacking the course more aggressively. One wouldn't think a car over five and a half meters long to handle this well but sometimes the reality is more amazing than science fiction.
I'm far from a great driver but even I could get pretty much out of this historical machine and I thought it would be a terrific weapon in the hands of a truly skilled driver. How little did I know... I drove about twenty laps, not pushing the car to its limits, I had too much respect towards it to rev the engine to the redline or crush the gears in like there were no tomorrow. After the run I got out of the car smiling very widely and walked to the motorhome for a well-deserved glass of soda. Then I remembered the thing that had bothered me for the entire time... "By the way, sir, who are you? You look familiar."
"Some people call me the King, but for you I'm just Richard."
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My first race report, please be gentle.
- R -
, it wasn't too long or too short, and you covered pretty much everything very well, and you also gotta love those snapshots.
+REP
Just absolutley well written, I would do one of these, my GT copy is dead....
It's about 30 miles from where I live.
Needless to say that it was the wrong conclusion.
