His Dad had bought it new. His Dad and Mom drove, literally he emphasized, drove the wheels off. After which they just retired it to their barn. He rescued it, and well, did this.
   He went on to detail the Mustang strut front end to control the torque steer, which it had on track with that much horsepower.
   "It's basically a 178 mile an hour car..."
   While we're talking, with a lot of humour beneath the comments, the sun's highlight and shadows suddenly vanished.
   Chris, reaches his hand out from under his tarped pit roof and said, "I just felt Rain."
   We both leaned out to see this dark gray cloud mass we hadn't noticed covering the entire track.

    Sitting in the shade at a concession stand picnic table, I diligently drank my second bottle of water, keeping hydrated is exhausting, I could tell it was solidly up in the mid to upper eighties.
   Setting off up the middle aisle, contemplating my promise not to march the usual ten miles on the day, I was stopped by something unusual: the open hood of a fully race prepped SAAB 900. Curious, I walked around the hood for a look.
   Impressed by the ultra clean turbo plumbing job, I walk around the open hood and asked whose car it was.
This guy responds.
   I commented, "Turbo in my 9-3's a bit smaller than that."
  "That's too bad," he responds with a smile, and the full story.

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