Memorable street encounters/racing stories

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Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby the armourer » Sun Jul 11, 2010 8:33 pm

Well, it seems the 'You know' thread has pretty much whimpered out. So with an old war story I related over on another page, let's hear your recollections of life in the fast lane. All those stories of a mis-spent youth when the only thing that really mattered was gasoline and going fast. All the shut-down strangers and hotrod angels. I can recall a bunch of good ones. Who's first?
Last edited by the armourer on Mon Jul 12, 2010 12:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"There are over 550 million smallarms in worldwide circulation. That's one weapon for every 12 people on the planet. The only question is: How do we arm the other 11?"

"The Teutonic reputation for brutality is well founded. Their operas last for 3 or 4 days and they have no word for 'fluffy'."
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Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby Nightwalker » Mon Jul 12, 2010 12:49 am

One road war encounter I can remember is the one I mentioned before about a year ago:

A little 'roadwar' I had about 13 years ago. I was driving the 200km trip home from college for the weekend, doing the speed limit of 120 kph. At one point I was overtaking a truck on the highway. While overtaking, an other car got right on my tale at high speed. I didn't react and kept going according the speed limit. When I got in front of the truck and went back to the right lane, the other driver showed me he wasn't happy that he was held up by me. He overtook me, got to the right in front of me and stepped on the brakes. Wrong move As a result I floored the accelerator. And just before I would have hit his rear I steered to the emergency lane. At that moment I got right next to him, I yanked my steering wheel back to the left. He must have shit his pants. He immediately steered to the left avoiding a collision with me, and took of.
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"OVERSTEER" is when you hit the fence with the rear of the car.
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Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby HUMVEE Driver » Mon Jul 12, 2010 11:35 am

I am going to be posting a LOT on this thread.

But for today, a story about driving HUMVEEs in the Cali desert.

We went to the California desert for a Combined Arms Exersize (CAX). At the time I was the driver for our Platoon Commander. He was a great officer; a mustang and very well liked by the troops. Anyway, it's all open terrain out there and driving 45mph (what we were told is the maximum HUMVEE speed) just seems like crawling. Halfway through the first day I tactfully asked the Lt. how fast he thought I should go. He looked at me frankly and said "Giovanni, as long as you don't crash us, you can drive as fast as you want." Game on!

So I'd be out in front, leading our Platoon here or there. We were heading back to camp one day and a civilian/contractor van was going parallel to us. I decide to try and beat him there. I floor it and my HUMVEE gradually picked up speed and soon the engine is roaring and we are flying along. A HUMVEE's fan isn't always on; I think it only comes on when you get to a certain engine temp or something. But when it does come on, there's this wrenching noise from the engine and the belt squeals as it's abruptly turned on. So that happens, and the Lt. kinda leans over to see how fast we are going. The speedometer only goes up to 45, after that it's just red, and I've got it buried. But he doesn't say anything so I keep going. We beat the van in, and they follow us to the chow hall. They get in line behind us, and I ask them how fast we were going. Guy said he couldn't believe it; he was at 85 so we were going even faster. I just smiled to myself.

We'd be doing our training, and then my Lt. has to go and do his officer training. Our lone HUMVEE represented our entire Platoon, and he was being evaluated on the decisions he'd make during a combat simulation. We'd be darting here or there, and out in the desert there are few 'roads' and even fewer landmarks. I really had to be on the ball and pay attention about where we were. It wouldn't do to get my Lt. lost when his ass was on the line.

At the end of his exersize, basically we had to get from point A to point B in time to set up a defensive position to intercept some enemy tanks. The Lt. is over with some other officers with maps and everything, doing officer things, when he comes sprinting back to our HUMVEE. For an officer to run, much less sprint, something was going down. He says "Giovanni, get us to the Delta T (a cliff overlooking the surrounding ground miles and miles away) as fast as you can. I mean right fucking now." I start up ole' M1034 and head out. As I'm doing so, I see a Colonel come running over to our Hummer. He jumps in the back with an aide, and I glance at my Lt. He just gives me a hurried 'go, go' pointing motion with his hand. These were the very guys who were evaluating my Lt.

So I'm driving across the broken terrain. There weren't even any dirt roads for me to follow. There are little 2-foot holes everywhere, boulders, and these bushes that grow on raised mounds of sand. I have to drive as fast as I can while avoiding the boulders, but if I had to I could plow right over or through the other obstacles. There were also dry riverbeds and sudden breaks in the ground that led to 3-5 foot drops. I'm cruising along, and a glance at my Lt. tells me he's worried about the time. No way was I going to let him down. I floor the pedal and I've got the needle buried and we are flying along. I ran over a particularly bad hole, violently jarring the whole vehicle, and I glance at the Lt. He just gives me that hurried 'go, go' pointing motion. I was already pushing my HUMVEE to its limits, so I grit my teeth and try to coax some more speed out of her.

The fan wrenches itself on, and the Colonel in the back grabs my seat and looks over my shoulder at the speedometer. "Damn, son" was his casual comment! Everyone is getting bounced around like crazy, and if it wasn't for the seltbelts we'd be hitting our heads on the roof. Then I come up on one of those sudden breaks in the ground with no time to slow down, and we actually go freaking airborne. I shit you not, the Colonel in the back goes "YEEEEEE-HAW!!!" like he's in the Dukes of Hazzard. We land HARD, gouging out a hole in the dirt and sand flying everywhere. We bounce and I keep the pedal floored and continue on. I glance at my Lt. again like, 'was that ok?' For the first time, he nervously glanced back. But I was well past the point of getting in trouble for driving recklessly. In for a penny, in for a pound. I grimly drove on.

Finally we near the Delta T and my Lt. is checking his watch. The 'road' leading up to the top was on the other side, and I made the snap decision to save some time and drive up the cliff face. I'm knocking boulders aside and the tires are clawing for traction. As we near the top, I heave the wheel to the side to avoid getting high-centered. Then I race to the cliff edge and slam on the brakes and yank on the parking brake handle. I winced at the grinding I heard from the trashed brake pads and we lurch to a stop. They all get out and are looking around with binos and maps and everything. The Colonel is checking his map and using a compass. I see him nod to the Lt. and he leaves with his aide. I shut M1034 down and get out, doing a 360 of my poor, abused Hummer. I could feel the heat coming off the engine, and I checked a few things. The HUMVEE had survived all the abuse I had heaped upon it with flying colors. My Lt. walks over to me and says "Well done, Giovanni. We made it." High praise indeed.

After that, he was the one stating that I was the best driver in the Platoon. I gathered that they didn't expect us to make it in time, and we showed 'em wrong. I got to take advantage of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to drive like a madman and not have to answer for it. I imagine if we took too long I may have been in trouble, but we did make it. The Lt. never mentioned our little adventure again, but I had his full trust when it came to driving. Mission accomplished.

So, there's my story. If you read it all, thanks for indulging me. Also, thanks for letting me re-live a great memory!

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Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby bike » Mon Jul 12, 2010 1:47 pm

Ya know, those restless nights, like to go out on my bike and blast along the empty autobahn, it`s kind of therapeutic. Can`t stand that shit when some fatass late-night trucker frendo decides to overtake his equally fatass trucker frendo and blocks both lanes. Oh well, down two gears, lights off and blast up that narrow gap between both assholes on one wheel to freedom. Mbwehuhahahhahahahaahaa! Burn away the unroadworthy! Do ya see me Toecutter? DO YA SEEEEE ME MAN?????????
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Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby the armourer » Mon Jul 12, 2010 3:20 pm

I put a Visa/Mastercard sticker on the quarter window after this incident. This was one of those times when seemingly unrelated occurrences all come together at one time for something really hilarious. On this day, I spent most of the afternoon helping my side-kick Rocco help his father move his office machine repair shop. It wasn't until later that evening, I discovered a forgotten box behind my seat that had in it ,amongst other things, one of those old credit card machines. It was the type where you put the card in it and then lay the paper receipt over top and then a sliding piece is rolled over them and it embosses the raised numbers into the paper. No big deal, I'll drop it off in the morning, and I left the box behind the seat. Well, we went out stoplight jousting that night and after a bit ran across a black 5.0 Mustang. So we're playing back and forth for a couple lights and we finally catch a particularly long light up on the boulevard. Now the 5.0's windows have dark limo tint on them and I can't see the occupants, so I fish a $50 bill out and wave it at him. A few seconds later, the Stang's window powers down about 2 inches and someone slides out a credit card. Obviously pleased with themselves, thinking they got in the final word, they were probably laughing to themselves at their cleverness. I immediately thought of the box and I reached behind the seat and grabbed the card machine, stuck it out the window and swiped the slider. About 10 seconds passed and the card disappeared back into the Stang, the window powered up, and the driver banged a 180 against the light and hauled ass out of there. We both sat there just dying laughing, saying that that would never happen again. I really wish I could have seen the fellows face when I pulled out that card machine. :lol:
"There are over 550 million smallarms in worldwide circulation. That's one weapon for every 12 people on the planet. The only question is: How do we arm the other 11?"

"The Teutonic reputation for brutality is well founded. Their operas last for 3 or 4 days and they have no word for 'fluffy'."
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Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby HUMVEE Driver » Mon Jul 12, 2010 5:25 pm

:lol: :lol: :lol: Great story! :lol: :lol: :lol:

Here's one that I am both proud and ashamed of.

One night a friend and I went cruising on the street known for such activities. I was 16 and driving my father's 1980 Ford F100. It was blue with a white cap on the back, which will come into play in a bit. I loved that truck; it had a three-on-the-tree and it was the vehicle I learned how to drive a stick shift on. Anyway, at a stoplight the guys in two cars right in front of us started getting into it with each other. It was kind of amusing to me, and I yelled out the window, "Yeah, get him!". Very, very stupid of me. Big mistake. The people in the car right next to me (a Mustang 5.0) were friends with them, and they didn't like what I said. Not at all. They went to get out, yelling "We're going to fucking kill you!" I won't lie; I was scared (four of them, one of me, and my friend was kind of a pushover). I was in the right lane, and I quickly turned onto a side street and floored it. I was thinking I'd head back onto the road, go in the opposite direction, and get the hell out of there. I get to the next intersection and turn left. As I'm coming to the next street, the Mustang comes speeding down it and blocks the road. They must have cut off who knows how many people to chase me, and they caught me good. But, I was driving a truck. I took the curb and drove over people's lawns to get around them. But I was only clear for a moment. They were in hot pursuit.

My 'friend' is telling me to stop and apologize, like that would work! I get back to the main road and floor it. But, there is no way my truck could outrun a muscle car like that. They are catching up and I am scrambling for ideas. I was headed back to my neighborhood, where I knew where the stop signs and yield signs are on the side streets. I see a bunch of cars coming at me in the opposite lane, and at the last second I swerve left in front of them and onto a side street. The Mustang couldn't follow... for a moment or two until traffic cleared for them. I go speeding way too fast down the side streets, gunning that engine and working the shifter, knowing where I can jet through an intersection and where to avoid the stop signs. I'm turning at each interesection, hoping to lose them with the slight lead I had. Then, a risky idea. I shut off my headlights. Just as I turn onto another street, a car comes right at me and we almost hit head-on. He sees me at the last second and swerves around. I get to a side street where I know it's a straight shot back to the main road and no stop signs to slow me down. I'm thinking I've got it made when way behind me, a familiar set of lights appear in my mirror. The Mustang.

Having my lights off helped, but the white cap was a dead giveaway. Even though I had the truck floored I saw they were gaining on me.

Then I remembered something.

The road I was on was a major sidestreet called Redmond; it had the right of way through the other sidestreets. At each intersection there was a big hump over each street. For fun, we would drive fast down Redmond, making the vehicle bounce over the humps and rock on it's springs, good for laughs. The last hump was the biggest, but it was also right before the main road. So you could hit the hump fast and enjoy the ride, but you had to slow down damn quick or you'd go right into the traffic on the main road.

I had an idea.

The Mustang was catching up, and I go full speed at the last hump. The big truck seemed to lift off on the upside of the hump, and I don't want to say that we were airborne on the way down, but it sure did feel like it. The truck bounces hard and I struggle to keep control while downshifting and braking as hard as I can. We are headed right for cross traffic, but I risk a glance in my rear view mirror.

I see the Mustang land after going over the hump... and sparks fly out from underneath it! The Mustang's low ground clearance was its weakness, and my idea worked. I also saw their ground effects break off too. I turn hard into a lucky break in the traffic, and look over at the Mustang. They pulled over and had stopped, to assess the damage I suppose. I didn't stick around to find out! I drove fast to the expressway and made my escape. I had got the better of them.

I was too scared and too shocked to really be happy. My 'friend' never talked to me again.

So I guess I dug myself in but I was able to get myself out. Not exactly a happy memory, but one that I learned a lot from.

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Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby the armourer » Mon Jul 12, 2010 7:59 pm

Good one, Dave. You kept your head and maintained a steady hand in what could have been a bad situation. Good driving.

Early 1990's, had a '67 Barracuda notchback coupe with a 340, reverse Flite, 3:91's. Light and quick. We nick-named the 340 'giant killer'. Was out on a Saturday night about 1AM and ended up over on Cypress Gardens Blvd in Winter Haven. Had Rocco and his younger brother Richard along. Spotted 2 blonds and a red-head in a V-8 front-drive Coupe DeVille in traffic and started flirting with them. We caught a light together and the redhead on the passenger side rolls down the window and says, "Nice car, is it fast?" to which I replied "Fast enough, but not as pretty as you are." She then says, "Well, if you can catch us, you can f**k us." and they run the red light and take off. Rocco starts yelling, "Catch em, catch em!! What are ya waiting for?!" I said, "Do you really think I can't catch them?" And a second later the light turns green and we're off. I overtook the Caddy by the time they hit US-17 and they turned right and headed through town. We stayed with them through town and the left on to Havendale. Havendale is a well lit divided 4-lane and not very busy at this hour. I was about 2-3 lengths behind them and I could see the driver kept glancing in the rearview and she was giving the Caddy a workout. I figured she was headed for US-92E which was more rural and try to outrun us. We were rolling about 80mph and the 3:91's were keeping the 340 right in it's power range. I knew it was capable of a short sprint to about 140, but I couldn't hold that long. I was also familiar with that type of Caddy, that the engine computer would kick in a speed governor around 115. Well when we hit 92E, and sure enough she turned left, heading west towards Lakeland. We blew through a yellow light at Berkley Rd. and for the next 7 miles it was deserted divided 4-lane and she stood on it. I rolled in directly behind her about a foot off the rear bumper. I started patting the gas and was making the front end bounce and shining my lights into the interior. Then I'd roll out and pull up beside them and wave. I could hear the governor kicking in and her engine was starting to miss, right as it should, between 115-120. The look on their faces was, "Oh shit, they're faster, what do we do now?" This went on for a few miles and then suddenly we were bathed in blue lights. Shit!! I never saw him! Where did he come from? Oh well, occupational hazard. I might just be able to talk him out of a trip to County. So I tapped my lights twice and backed out of it. When she saw me back off, she stood in it again and took off. The Deputy forgot all about me and took off after her! Escape and evade time. Made a sliding right onto Old Dixie Hwy and followed it down to Saddle Creek, left on Saddle Creek and stood on it. Then I felt the Flite start to slip. Looked in the rearview and we were leaving a trail of smoke a blind man could follow with a stick. I'm thinking we blew out a front pump seal and it was spraying fluid onto the converter which was slinging it onto the hot headers. Instant smoke screen. Fortunately, Rocco's and Richard's place was on the way. I slowed down to a walking speed and they both bailed out onto the grassy road shoulder. I crawled the final 2 miles to the house at about 30mph and slowing. I rolled into the yard on sheer momentum. The Flite was toast. What a night. I fully expected a Deputy to roll up any time. They had me dead to rights after all. So I popped the hood and pulled the Holley off the 340. The carb wasn't mine, it belonged to Dearborn Dave. I was worried if they decided to impound the Cuda that he might never get his carb back. I then got a cold soda from the garage fridge and grabbed a lawn chair and sat down by the car and waited. I fell asleep after about an hour and woke up around day break. Still a free man. I called Dearborn Dave and woke him up and told him what transpired. He came over and we dropped the Flite. Sure enough. Pump seal failure. Scrapped out the Flite for salvageable parts. The reverse valve body and the case was still good. Decided against a rebuild and started installing 4-speed stuff. Had her back on the road within the week. The law never showed up. Reckon they didn't get a tag number. Learned several things. We had problems with that Flite before. Turned out the converter was out of spec and was tearing up pump seals. If there is any doubt about a component, then there is no doubt. Never become so fixated on an objective that you ignore your surroundings. Even at night, I should have seen that Deputy before he saw me. I'm better then that. We got lucky. Can't say anything bad about the girls. It was probably Daddy's car and was fast to them. They just decided to smart off to someone faster and then panicked. That redhead was cute though. I'm still doing stupid things for redheads. Still have the valve body too. It's in the Flite going into the Coronet, at least until I can scrounge up enough parts to run a 4-speed. ;)
"There are over 550 million smallarms in worldwide circulation. That's one weapon for every 12 people on the planet. The only question is: How do we arm the other 11?"

"The Teutonic reputation for brutality is well founded. Their operas last for 3 or 4 days and they have no word for 'fluffy'."
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Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby HUMVEE Driver » Tue Jul 13, 2010 3:32 am

"Fast enough, but not as pretty as you are."

Great line, bro!

Funny, I'm still doing doing stupid things for redheads, too. But think of it this way: getting distracted by pretty girls is the best reason to get in trouble with the law!

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Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby the armourer » Tue Jul 13, 2010 7:22 am

HUMVEE Driver wrote:"Fast enough, but not as pretty as you are."

Great line, bro!

Funny, I'm still doing doing stupid things for redheads, too. But think of it this way: getting distracted by pretty girls is the best reason to get in trouble with the law!

HUMVEE Driver


Thanks, Dave. I truly love the redheads. Every woman who has ripped me off, broken my heart, and tried to kill me has been a redhead, but damn, they're fun. I'm on the look out for the next one. :D
"There are over 550 million smallarms in worldwide circulation. That's one weapon for every 12 people on the planet. The only question is: How do we arm the other 11?"

"The Teutonic reputation for brutality is well founded. Their operas last for 3 or 4 days and they have no word for 'fluffy'."
the armourer
 
Posts: 548
Joined: Tue Mar 28, 2006 8:15 pm
Location: Up to my elbows in a '69 Dodge, getting ready for a wastelands run....

Re: Memorable street encounters/racing stories

Postby Gasoline » Wed Jul 14, 2010 4:57 pm

the armourer wrote:when the only thing that really mattered was gasoline

Why Thank You..... :oops:
Kick her in the guts Barry !
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