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Dale has done it this time. I thought a man that worked at Ford and sold me a stang 5.0 was a pretty die hard Ford guy, boy was I wrong. Mopar after Mopar did I see on his web page, one after another. Only one thing could pop into my mind what to do, and that was to give ol' Dale an all FORD readers story for his web page.
It was a Friday night in May, my local McDonald's held a "Cruise In", this was really cool because all the ol' folk, get out there Camaros and Dodges and went to town for a little street action and a big car show. I was heading back from the strip in my, (Dale?s old) 5.0, just turned some more 13.30's in the STOCK AOD stang. I had the stock coupe running real strong. It was a real sleeper, bone stock engine with a few bolt ons, and the AOD trans, sitting on mickey ET street tires. I knew I would get some street action tonight, word was out that I sold my 11.30 stang and bought a stocker, question was could I avoid the 11 second crowd and get some half-way even street racing action.
I was not afraid to race a 12 second car, 12 seconds at the strip on slicks is a completely different story on the street. Slicks are just not as good on the street as at the track, and I knew I could cut a perfect light so to speak, on the street, with my ET streets and the aod.
I pulled into town and parked by some local guys, the new hot rodders in town looked like they did not want any action, and I was really looking for a race. I parked next to about 5 stangs, a couple new Camaros, and some other street racers. Out came my lawn chairs and my girlfriend, Karen, and I sat down for a little relaxation when I was approached by a fellow racer. He was looking for a race, straight even, no handicap, dead stop.
He was riding in a nice 89 LX sitting on full blown race slicks. The engine looked pretty stock although it had every bolt on known to man. It was a 5 speed, which made me smile. Most people straight think the 5 speed will blow an AOD away, but guess what, I will get him by at least a car off the line guaranteed. We set up the race right away, all the local crowd headed straight out to the finish line which was a field out on the country road we race on. We could pack an unlimited amount of cars into this field, so we get them out there first, and as fast as possible. I sent my girlfriend with a friend because I only race alone, the LX I was racing opted to keep his girlfriend in the car with him, oh well, good for me, bad for him.
We lined up at the start, I dropped off his buddy that road with me to the starting line. He warmed his full blown slicks until they melted to the country road. I gave my ET street a good spin until I felt they would hook perfect on the street. I new this guy would not get me off the line. 5 speed or not, I was stalled up and would get him by a car. His buddy lifted both hands and it was "ready", "set", and "go", his arms dropped and we were off. He hit second before my 4.10 powered AOD did, I new he had low gears, but oh well, I was a full car ahead. I manually shifted my AOD to "2" and pulled even farther ahead of his bright red LX, His 5 speed car was not making near the power of mine, (a result of poor tuning), and I had my coupe running like a top. I was now almost 2 cars ahead and pulling and hit 3rd. My Mac mufflers were roaring as I was approaching the 5,500 rpm mark. I flew passed the finish, far enough ahead that I could clearly see my opponent in the rear view mirror. Heart pounding, I headed back to hangout the back way to avoid any local police action.
Once again, I had to answer to everybody on my stock AOD coupe. "Its not stock", "Any porting?", "You spraying?". Oh well, I now have my stocker to a all time best of 13.1@101 mph and on my way to 12.99. All with a stock engine from the pan to the throttle body, and most impressive, an AOD transmission. I guess I do not mind the questions, some people just like to bolt on a few thousand dollars worth of parts and go slow with no tuning, I just like to tune what I have to the max, and I guess it shows.
There's this guy my brother knows from his work that has a 383 Charger which is supposed to run virtually identical times to my Challenger. (13.30's on street tires) And he has been talking about how we should get together sometime and do it up for a classic Mopar shoot out. I agreed this would be a grand idea and we decided to meet up at A & W on Wednesday night because they have a nice little "car cruise-in/show".
I got there at about 7:30pm with my brother and his friend was there with his brothers who ALSO have cars. His friend, Bill, is the one with the 383 Charger while his other brothers, Sam and Tom, have a `96 SS Camaro and 340-4bbl Valiant respectively. These cars, too, are supposed to run anywhere from 13.20's to 13.40's. Bill, Sam, Tom and a handful of other "friends" were hootin' and hollerin' all night about what a good time we were going to have when we go racing on the I-75 service drive in the hours to come. Two hours later, the place had pretty much emptied out of all the cool cars and it was just us. I had spent the majority of the evening talking to another one of their friends, Kurt, who was about 61 years old and had a beautiful 1966 Corvette.
We then proceeded to leave from the A & W to go to a deserted warehouse just off of Dort Hwy., about a mile from I-75. We drove around the back of this dark and dingy establishment to their rear parking lot. It was dimly lit with broken glass and garbage scattered about. After about 20 minutes of MORE hootin' and hollering, I asked Bill, "Um... Bill? Are we gonna' race, or what?" (I was so pumped with adrenaline that I simply could NOT wait anymore... not to mention that it was now 10:15pm on a work night) Bill replied, "Race? You wanna' race?! Alright!! HEY SAM!! Dale wants to race!!! Let's go!!!"
The group of 20 or so people that were there began to scurry about in preparation of seeing something go down. Sam came up to me to explain how we were going to race and in his description he made references to HE and *I* racing. Sam ran back to his Camaro and I turned to my brother and asked, "Say, uh... bro? I thought I was going to race Bill?" and he replied, "Yeah, so did I. But this is cool, too, because if you can't beat Sam's Camaro, you won't be able to beat Bill's Charger." I thought this to be cool since I was ready to race anything that moved at this point.
Sam's immaculate black Camaro was shod with Weld Wheels and slicks. I thought for sure I was going down for the count. We pulled on to the I-75 service drive and began to heat our tires. We went from a traffic light, on the green. Sam launched hard and all I saw was the back of his car leaping out in front of me. I thought for sure I was toast. I stayed in it despite the back end of my car fishing about for traction. Low and behold by the middle of second gear, (approx. 70mph), we were door handle to door handle! And by the top of my third gear, (approx. 105mph), I had put about a car of daylight on Sam's Camaro!! I was totally shocked! I started screaming "WOO HOO!!!" as loud as I could over and over again. When we slowed to hit the first turnaround, Sam shouted, "I think I let too much air out of my slicks and I couldn't get a solid launch! I wanna' go back to the gas station for a few pounds and do it up again!" I was so pumped from racing, I agreed since I wanted to experience the whole deal again.
After we hit the gas station for air, we pulled up to the same light on the service drive and repeated everything exactly how we did not 15 minutes earlier. (pre-heats and then go on the green) Same deal: I watched him bounce out ahead and then by the middle of my second gear, we were neck and neck. Except THIS time, a moment later I heard a loud "WHIZZZZZZZZSH" sound and Sam fell back fast.
By the time he caught back up after I slowed down he told me that he had missed third gear and wanted to go again. I was like, "Okay.", even though the outcome was going to be obvious-- I had a few more horses and unless he was going to start spraying me with giggle gas, I would beat him everytime. I agreed just the same since I didn't want to be a dick about it.
RIGHT after we agreed to go back and try again, my car became engulfed in extremely bright light. I thought we were being pulled over via a spotlight from a squad car behind us, but there was no one around! We started looking at each other as we were coasting down the service drive, but couldn't come up with where this light had come from or gone to. (because it was now OFF)
As Sam and I were trying to determine where that bright light had come from and gone to, it turned on again! My whole interior was ablaze with white light! I looked over at Sam and he had his head out his window looking up into the night sky. I did the same only to discover a helicopter directly above us! Just then, a loud p.a. came on and said, "PULL YOUR VEHICLES TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AND REMAIN INSIDE!!!". We were, in fact, getting busted by the police, except from the air. Sam shouted over to me, "Dale! Don't run! Pull over with me!" (as if I actually had to guts to make a break for it... I think NOT.)
We pulled into a Flint subdivision and turned the cars off. The helicopter remained directly above us while Sam proceeded to get out of his Camaro and start jumping up and down waving his arms! I said, "Uh... Sam? Didn't' they tell us to wait INSIDE our cars?" He said, "Just wait... just wait." After another 10 seconds or so of arm waving by Sam, the p.a. came on again, and it said, "Sam! We've had a few complaints! Take the Camaro home and let it cool off for a while!" ZZzzzzooom. The helicopter flew off in another direction. I couldn't believe what had just taken place.
I asked Sam what had just happened and he said, "Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm a Flint cop! Ha ha ha!! Follow me back to the warehouse and keep it quiet!" As we cut back through this subdivision, I was checking my underwear for poop.
When we pulled in, all of the people there were anxious to know what had happened. A moment later, a Flint squad car pulled in. Sam and Kurt, (the `66 Corvette guy), walked over to the police car. Sam barks out, "Charlie!!! How's the wife and kids?!" As it turns out, both Sam and Kurt are off-duty Flint police officers. Ol' Charlie buddy hung out for about 30 minutes just to chat and make sure all was cool. No one was leaving the premises. I was still in utter shock, afraid to get in my car and leave.
After the squad car left, some old lady in a brand new Buick pulled in and said, "I want everyone out of here right NOW!!!" Sam asked, "Do you own this place?" She replied, "I have 911 entered into my cell phone and I'm about to hit 'send'!!". She was obviously a neighbor pissed about all the noise, and since Sam and Kurt didn't want to have a 'out-for-fun off-duty cop/pissed resident'-situation go down, we packed up and left.
As we were pulling out of the warehouse, this lady waited by the exit to make sure we all left. Each car, besides my own, did a massive smokin' holeshot in her honor. Just as we pulled on to Dort Hwy, the Valiant and a built `86 Mustang with slicks stopped and started to do pre-heats. They then raced and we all chased them to see the winner. The Mustang got the Valiant by about a couple cars.
We all hit the first turnaround and the same two cars did it up all over again. There was smoke and huge black tire marks all over the place. We hit the first gas station and people got various things. (gas, air, pop, etc.) There was about a dozen cars, some modified, some stock. Sam shouts from his Camaro, "Dale! Race the Valiant! He wants you!!" I asked, "Are you sure it's safe?!". He said, "Hell yeah! Dort Hwy. is cool! I'll follow you!" We pulled out of the gas station stopped in the middle of Dort and the Valiant and I started doing pre-heats. We ended up going from a 5mph roll and it wasn't until about the middle of third gear that I put any air on the Valiant. He was a better race for me than the SS Camaro was. I was really surprised by this because it was a basically stock 340 4bbl. We hit the next light and the Valiant started his pre-heat. I heard another car doing a pre- heat so I looked to my immediate right, and there was the `86 Stang with the slicks. I thought to myself, "Welp, I guess I'm gonna' be racing again!"
The light turned green and there was squealing tires and smoke everywhere! The `86 Stang jumped out ahead pretty hard while the Valiant and I remained even. By the top of third gear, I had about a car open on the Valiant and I had caught up to the Mustang's rear bumper. The Mustang just had too much ground on us from the start and I was not able to make up the difference. The Valiant and I hit the next turnaround and he wanted to go again. I thought, "Eagh... what the hell.. I'm already past the legal limit of luck, so let's just go crazy." We went from a 10mph roll and it was the same outcome. (by the end of third, I had a car or so open on him) I yelled that I wanted to go to his brother Sam's house since that's where he said we'd meet. We turned right at the next light and Tom wanted to go again. This time I declined. He understood.
We got back to Sam's house and there was about 20 people there STILL hootin' & hollerin'! And this was after 12 midnight on a Wednesday night! I had to get home, but another friend Jim had my brother in his Superbee somewhere. They WERE following us, but we lost them somehow. They showed up about 25 minutes later saying that they had to take the back roads to Sam's house because there were no less than about seven Flint cop cars slowly cruising up and down Dort Hwy. I guess we sorta' pushed it to the limit.
I told everyone that I had to go home because of how late it was and Bill spoke up and said, "But... I thought we were going to race!". And the funny thing was, he was totally serious. I told Bill, "Maybe some other time."
I didn't make it out to the car show/cruise thing the following week, but I was
told there were zillion cop cars crawling all over the Dort Hwy. and I-75 interchange. So, needless to say, another good spot bites the dust. Imagine that.
"New vs. Old"...Entered by John P., 5/20/99
Howdy! my name is John and you've probably seen some of my cars on this site in the Reader's Rides section such as the '70 Superbird, '70 'Cuda droptop and assorted GTX's.
This story deals with an R4 Red '69 GTX I once owned. This ol' Get-X was a total roach-coach. The quarters, doors, fenders, rockers, back window area, etc. were pretty well gone. The scariest rust area, though, was the rear leaf spring mounts. They looked like one good launch with a set of sticky tires would rip the entire rear end out of the car! Anyway, the ol' GTX only had 56,000 original miles on it with little to no power-robbing options on it. Manual steering and brakes, no console, no radio, etc. It was one of the absolute healthiest stock 440's that I have ever seen. The remainder of the drivetrain was comprised of a totally stock and original 727 Torqueflite with a set of 3.55 gears out back. This ol' Get-X flat-out flew if it had to.
I owned this car around 1989-1990 and at this time, we all hung around out on Telegraph Road in Redford Township and Dearborn Heights. There was this one fellow, Norm Ruby, who was a big-time street racer. Ol' Norm was one of the original founding members of the infamous Top-End Club. Norm was one of the nicest guys you would ever want to meet but when it came to cars and racing, he became an absolute animal. Ol' Uncle Norm passed away a few years ago but the memories of my street races with him and the races I watched him run will surely last me a lifetime.
Norm had a brand loyalty and that was Ford. At the time I had the GTX, he had a Dark Red '88 Mustang LX 5.0 Coupe (a "notchback") that was alleged to be pure stock internally but had the usual 5.0 tricks such as gear, exhaust, timing, K & N, etc. This LX, on slicks, had pulled off a best of 13.27 @ 101 MPH. It also had a killer reputation on the street. Well, it was springtime and a bunch of the guys were over at my house one afternoon. There were probably like 10-12 of us hangin' out when ol' Norm blurted out some derogatory remark about the sorry-lookin' ol' red GTX. Now bear in mind that the Get-X had four mismatched tires on steel wheels with cheapo discount auto parts fake plastic wire wheel covers and the vinyl top was peeling amongst various other cosmetic maladies! This thing was hideous! Well, I wasn't about to let ol' Norm slam the ol' Red Rocker so I said somethin' to the effect of "It might be ugly, but it'll toast that ol' Mustwang!"
Well, with statements like that in front of a whole group of car-crazed Motown Street Rats, you just had to know that the next order of business was to race! It was about 3:00 in the afternoon and traffic was just starting to build for rush hour. Me and a friend hopped in the GTX and Norm and a friend hopped in the LX. Everybody else piled into other cars and followed us. We went on to Twelve Mile Road just west of Lahser Road. This road is two lanes in each direction with a center turn lane.
We made sure that we were the first two cars at the Lahser Road light facing westbound on Twelve Mile Road. We had decided to go from a slow roll and as the traffic light went green, we rolled through the intersection. One of the things ol' Norm was notorious for was going on the "Two" of the "Three Count". Well, this race was no exception. I was ready for him and tromped on the ol' Red X a split second after Norm did but the little red LX instantly jumped out to put about a car and a half of daylight on the GTX. I was really thinking that I had bit off more than I could chew by picking on a 13.20 car but my pride could not let him slander the once proud GTX. I stayed into it whilst praying for a top-end miracle... then, low & behold, the old 440 started pouring it on! I was gaining on Norm at a decent rate and simply couldn't believe my eyes!! By the time I clicked the Get-X into 3rd gear, I had since PASSED Norm's little LX Stang with a tiny bit of air between my rear bumper and Norm's front fascia!! When we pulled back into my driveway following this run, Norm insisted that I pop the hood on the old Plymouth sensing I had pulled some sort of "Sneaky Pete" nitrous trick on him. No such thing. Just pure, Mopar technology circa 1969, right down to the points distributor. Needless to say, Norm displayed considerably more respect for the "older" musclecars following that fateful day.
"Shouldn'ta' sold her.."...Entered by Ron Hunt, 7/6/00
Back in '82 I had a 1970 Challenger with a .060 over 440 replacing the car's original 318. The engine was stock except for a Crane Fireball cam and a 750 cfm Holley carb (the good old 3310-2 with a few tuning goodies from one of Holley's Trick Kits ). The cast iron intake and exhaust manifolds were 440 Magnum pieces, but they sure fooled the unwary! The power was transferred through a 727 transmission outfitted with a B&M 11inch, 3000 rpm stall converter and shift kit. The Sure Grip rear-end held 4.30 gears. The crowning touch was the car's 10.5 inch wide slicks, which were actually Hoosier asphalt roundy-round tires. Since these tires were designed for cars that turned corners, they had a much stiffer sidewall than regular drag slicks. This meant that I could change lanes without the back end swaying around. I ran them at 25-30 psi for good handling on the street, and they hooked up fine after a good water burnout and a couple of dry hops.
One night I hooked up with a guy in one of those then-new Mustang GT's. This dude worked at the local Ford dealership and was said to know how to make those small block Henrys run. I was a bit apprehensive about running this guy because of his reputation, so in steps a guy with a 403 powered Trans Am with all the bolt-on goodies. It was agreed that I would face the winner of the Mustang vs. T/A race. Well, the Trans Am took the 'stang by about four lengths, and so he and I lined 'em up. After heating the tires, I revved the 440 to about 1000 rpm against the brakes and stomped on the gas when the starter dropped his arms. The tach needle flashed to 3000 rpm and the Challenger launched without spinning a tire. I had a car length on the T/A right out of the hole and never looked back. I manually shifted from first to second at 5500 rpm, then did the same from second to drive, crossing the line at about 5800 rpm. Onlookers estimated that I had 6-8 car lengths on the Trans Am at the big end. Needless to say, the Mustang pilot wanted no part of my Challenger, and we all decided to call it a night.
Possibly the dumbest thing I did in my life was to sell that car a few months later....
