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Thursday, May 25th, 2006
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1:05 pm - 2002 Subaru Impreza WRX -- $15,500 OBO -- Denver, CO
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| Wednesday, February 15th, 2006
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10:30 pm
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amber_kay
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I do this almost every Wednesday. Thought you might be interested.
Ice threat: Moderate
Rain: None
Gravel: None
Oncoming Cars: 2
Cars In Front of Me: 0
Llamas: 0
Speed at the Starting Point: 41mph
Total Time: 12:58
Previous Record: 12:26
Top Speed: 68mph
I woke up in a mood. I know I told myself I was going to mellow out and focus on fine tuning parts of the run, but all I wanted to do was drive as fast as I could. I can't explain why. Am I the only one who ever has these urges? I had a goal. I was feeling confident. I was going to get my fix and I was going to do it in less than 12:26! I walked out the front door and the world was covered in a sparkley white coat. Frost came in overnight and sabotaged my plan. Rocky Point is too high and too shaded for there to be any chance of it melting by the time I got there. Oh well. Another slow run wont hurt anything and will still be fun.
I saw a cop on my way out there. I saw another one, this one unmarked, on Skyline right before the point where I start timing. What the hell? I feel so vulnerable without my radar detector and seeing these guys made me even more paranoid. The speed limit is 55mph and I don't usually spend much time breaking that. Plus the ice threat would be slowing me down anyways. I hit the first nice and sunny sweeper and completely forgot about the cops. My road has this magical power of making everything but us go away. At least for the time we spend together.
I hit the first few patches of frost cautiously, and tested my traction while driving over it. It felt like it wasn't even there. After a few miles I was annoyed with myself for not being brave enough to plow through it like it was dry pavement. But I stayed mild and careful anyways. It seemed like the smart thing to do. The Skyline portion, which is over half of the run, went slow.
Once I hit Rocky Point, the super twisty downhill portion, I couldn't handle it anymore. I took off like there was nothing to be concerned about. I noticed another spot where I could see through the trees and confirm a clear road ahead so I could cross into the other lane on the next corner. I wasn't even looking for new ways to be faster but I found one anyways. Score! My CD switched to a slow song so I hit the button to skip that one. A remix of The Prodigy's Mindfields came on. The words "This is Dangerous" repeated over and over again for about 5 minutes as I tossed my seemingly incompetent little car around on a downhill string of curves that makes anything you've ever seen on Initial D seem like a freeway cruise. I got so tangled up in the moment that in spite of the stopwatch dangling from my rear view mirror I forgot this was even being timed. If I could bottle this sensation kids would stop going to raves.
I pulled off the most graceful execution of "the hairpin" I have ever done. I met an oncoming car on the corner before it which meant I couldn't cut it and get the same entry position/angle I've been doing. According to everything I've read I had been taking the ideal line through this set of turns, but now that I think about it everything I've read applied to track racing which is usually flat, and this is a drastic elevation change. (You may want to think about that  nicetrousers since I know you've read some of the same stuff as me.) I'm not entirely certain what I did to get such good results this time since I was functioning partly on instinct and reaction. Next time I'll act as if that car is in the same place and pay closer attention to what I do about it. Hopefully I'll get the same results but be paying more attention. The hairpins on any road in any car have always been my favorite parts. It's been awhile since I've had any problems keeping speed through them, but doing it gracefully at equal speeds is something I've never been able to accomplish as well as I'd like, in spite of my years of practice. I'd come to accept the fact that it just couldn't be done the way I want to do it. But today I learned I was wrong, and I couldn't be happier. This is a learning process. There's no shame in being wrong if it lets you learn to do it right. The tires still screamed back at me and I still drifted a bit into the other lane but the whole motion was smooth. The rev matching wasn't even necessary when the cornering ended and it was time to keep going. I have a new goal. I love my new goal! I will master this!
My car popped out of gear in the middle of another sharp corner. I'm not sure how that happened. This car has never done that to me before. I hit the gas on my way out and all I got was noise. I put it back in 2nd, got my RPM's back up, and kept going. I secretly love it when something goes wrong and I manage to fix it as a matter of instinct rather than relying on a timely thought process. I tell people all the time that you gotta train your brain before you try to pull off this kinda stuff. Even intelligent conscience thought isn't good enough. You have to develop the right reactions. When you find yourself pointing off the cliff and you got little traction you don't have time to think, you just do or (literally) die. But if you put yourself in similar situations in safe environments enough times you can develop the right reflexes. And never stop playing the What If game. What I do is self serving. Nobody likes me more because of it and nobody will like you more if you do it too. I feel like a PSA right now. I can be such a dork.
The brake fade was worse than usual this time when I hit the end. When I'm getting close I do frequent brake tests. By now I've got a good idea of when my brakes will fade and by how much so it's something I work into my plan. But this time it was more than the norm. Once I came to a complete stop and looked at my time it made sense. I was 32 seconds short of my best time and I know I lost that time on the Skyline portion. Technically the Skyline portion is easy compared to the Rocky Point part.
Last weekend I rode shotgun with notfastenough on this run in a lesser car. He's a better driver than me but doesn't know the road as well. His performance was impressive and helped me realize another factor that I haven't put enough focus on. I brake and down shift too early. He's one of the rare few that I have faith in. His skill and judgment are good. The experience taught me that I need to carry my speed longer and have more faith in myself. I don't have balls. I think that's my problem.
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, February 1st, 2006
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11:24 am - Just remember...
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| Wednesday, December 21st, 2005
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9:57 pm
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amber_kay
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I was up on Skyline this morning. Skyline and Germantown are the two best known twisty roads in Portland, and they cross each other. So even though you may not know what Skyline is you've got to imagine that it's pretty high up there (based on the name if nothing else), and it's nice and twisty. It also has the added bonus of a 40mph speed limit. Skyline is far from my personal favorite but it is probably the road I know the best. We've been together longer than any other twisty I have a relationship with. I've driven it hundreds of times and only ever seen a cop up there twice. Until today when that changed to 3 times.
The roads were wet and I had freshly escaped the wrath of following a high dollar/low speed soccer mom, so I was going a bit faster than I normally would have. My little Geo Metro's cheap dumb tires made for lots of easy sliding. But I am familiar enough with them that I can enjoy the lack of traction with no surprises. Completely predictable and controllable sliding situations. It was great fun and a high job satisfaction moment. That is until I hit that one left corner which I cut in tight for, within the boundaries of my lane, knowing I would have have plenty of space to slide out as I knew my car would and regain traction before I crossed the line and went off the side. In my moment of no traction the KA band on my radar detector shot all the way up. There was a cop a my corner. I glanced down at my speed. I was SLIDING around a corner at 52mph! That's a most un-get-away-with-able 12mph over,... while slideways! Unlike the average lemming the sight of a cop car didn't produce an instant response to hit the brakes. If I had done that a tow truck would have been involved in the whole situation. I give myself little gold stars in my head from time to time and it was one of those moments. I didn't ever bother to check if I got caught. I knew I did and just pulled over at the next driveway I saw. Shortly there after he was behind me, lights and all.
I already had the usual requirements in my hand ready to give him when he walked up. I passed them off and after his request he spoke again. "Are you insane? Based on the RUSH DELIVERY on the side of your car I understand that you were in a hurry but that's no excuse to drive like that. What you were doing is very dangerous. You aren't a rally car driver".
Oh. My. God! He just said the magical word! (That would be "rally" for those of you who don't know any better). My brain kicked into an entirely different gear. Two things crossed my mind. First he chose the word "rally", and second he just watched me take that corner in a beautifully controlled slide that any rally driver would be proud of. I took a risk and spit out my next sentence.
"Actually, officer, I don't want to be argumentative but I am a rally car driver", I lied. His rage all the sudden diffused but his aggressive authoritative tone didn't. He spit back out at me,
"That may be, but not in this car".
I remembered that there was a Geo Metro running in the Oregon Trail Rally last year and took my chances. "You're right. I certainly wouldn't rally this car. But last spring I did drive a Geo Metro in the Oregon Trail Rally. I am very familiar with the car".
He replied "I was there. there was No Metro running".
"I was indeed there" I replied. "I had transmission problems and ended up trailing far behind the pack, and ultimately coming in last" I lied some more. "But at least I didn't get a DNF".
He completely changed modes! "Oh that's right, I remember seeing you there".
He bought it!
"I have to admit I thought you were at the end of the pack because you chose such a bad car".
"It was my intention to drive my GTX but I couldn't get the brake parts I needed in time. Parts are hard to come by for that car".
He's buying this shit! I can't believe it! The lies keep flowing,....
"You have a Mazda GTX?!?!? How did you manage to find one of those?"
It goes on and on. We talk cars for awhile and I keep spitting out lies about being in the OR Trail Rally, which he seems to think is just about the coolest ever. I even pulled up my sleeve and showed him my tattoo which he adores! He tells me he wishes his wife would be inclined to get such an ornament but she "just wouldn't get it".
This conversation, although fascinating, is going on for way longer than I can afford. But there is no way in hell I'd take the initiative to cut it short. He eventually mentions that he saw my execution of the corner but assumed it was some careless drivers good luck. I accepted his statement as a compliment and told him so. He told me to watch out for people coming out of those blind driveways and sent me on my way.
I love Portland cops!
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(11 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, November 29th, 2005
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12:34 am - Check out the new forum I have been working on
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| Tuesday, October 25th, 2005
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7:46 pm
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amber_kay
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Hi. My name is Coral and I'm addicted to street racing. It's been about 6 hours since I've raced somebody.
I realized I had a problem when I went 6 days without racing and I moved from being anxious to being depressed. Night after night I fell victim to my predatory urges and left the house to hunt. No takers. It was eating away at me. It turned what would have otherwise been a lovely drive in a very nice car into a huge disappointment. It stopped being about pleasure and started being about getting my fix. I would come home entirely unsatisfied and miserable. Looking back on those days I can't believe I ever had such unpleasant homecomings in such a wonderful car. But I did. I was hooked. It had me. If it doesn't make adreneline coarse through my veins it's not good enough. I want more.
In grade school they told me that a drug is anything that affects the way the body works. As far as I'm concerned there is no finer drug than the one my body produces when I find someone to engage with me. I'd easily pass up sex for racing, and yet sex is considered a valid addiction. So why isn't street racing? It's the same drug, isn't it? The idea of it made me shake, literally. I am entirely confident that I went through street racing withdrawals. The car went in the shop with transmission problems (imagine that) and I spiraled into a hole.
Survival became impossible and I had to sell the car. Oodles of neet new stuff and yet I had to let her go for half her value just to keep living. The DT's came back, I cried every day, but eventually I moved on.
I got a job driving a cargo van. Can't race one of those, right? Well, I did anyways. Against another delivery van. Rear wheel drive vans, on wet pavement, for 1 block. Nearly the entire episode was tires spinning with no traction, but it was a fight to get there first, so the drug came back. So much for staying clean,.....
Much time passed and I moved from working in a van to working in a Geo Metro
Van
Geo
I've moved all the way down to a 50hp car! You'd think that would be enough to cure anybody out there. But it wasn't. Just today me and the delivery vehicle (an Aspire) of the place I just visited left at the same time. We came next to each other at a light and I rev'd at him just to be silly. But he rev'd back. We looked at the light, then each other, then the light,.... you know how it works. The cross light turned yellow and he held up a finger. Then 2 fingers. I knew it was on! The third finger came up just as the light changed and we both floored it. a Geo and an Aspire fought for victory to the next light! Our display was retarded I'm sure. Like grossly handicapped people that you can't help but look at. But it was enough to give me my drug back. There it went again,... the shaking, the hightened awareness, the yearning to shift at just the right point (which is NOT at the redline on a Geo). The drug was back.
There's no escaping it as long as you drive,.... anything. If you got it I'm sorry. Since they won't accept this as a real addiction I think that no matter what you drive you need to come to terms with the fact that someone else with your same mindset is out there, stuck in an equally bad car, and if you two find each other you will battle to the low powered death, or at least the next light.
Being reduced wont cure the addiction. You are what you are.
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(8 comments | comment on this)
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| Saturday, August 27th, 2005
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4:05 pm
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lilman1520
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I was minding my own business in the Cobra when an Acura RSX runs up on me. I switched lanes to let him pass. He stayed with me. There was no one directly in my path, so I floored it. He tried to keep up. I then slowed to around 100mph, thinking he would just leave me alone. He caught up then. I switched lanes to get away from him, but he followed me into the far, left lane. All of a sudden, the cars in front of me braked. I was not paying attention, so I accelerated onto the shoulder to avoid a head on collision. I was SO close to scraping the side wall. Here I am traveling at 100mph inches away from the wall and cars. Stupid. I got back over, and switched lanes to get the hell off at my exit. The RSX is STILL on me. No car is letting me over, so I accelerate ahead and throw the Cobra into the exit. I was blown at, but I did not care at that moment. The RSX runs up on me again. I braked, and we TOUCHED. I was so pissed. I did not know what to do. He shot ahead and went to the right. I decided for some reason to chase him the hell down and get his information. I accelerated beside him, put down the passenger side window, and told him to pull the hell over. He faked a god damn side swipe. I braked and moved over. I told him that we could calmly resolve this if he pulled over. He slammed on his brakes and pulled an illegal U-turn. I turned the Cobra around myself. I caught up to him again. By this time, we were going well over 140mph. He kept switching lanes so I could not get beside him. What an ass. I finally got onto the shoulder and forced him to let me get beside him. We were going 160mph at this time. For some reason, he threw his car into a wicked spin. This guy had skills from hell. I kept going. Inside, I knew one of us was going to get killed. I was going to kill him or he was going to get me killed in an accident. I pulled another U-turn and got back on the Beltway. I went home shaking at what just took place. I am still shaking.
current mood:  angry
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(26 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, August 25th, 2005
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1:41 am - my car
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schlyrdlgnd
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Hey
My car is a 96 chevy cavalier and it has a new paint job its my first car i wanna know what i can do to it to make it faster! im trying to learn about cars can someone tell me what i can do to it im 15 i cant get a good job yet just a reg. $5 hr job i need to make i better please or is it just a wate of money to put stuff in a cavalier? O yea im new to this community so yea hello alright peace
current mood:  energetic
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(9 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, May 16th, 2005
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7:11 pm
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phuknut
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The other day, I was stopped at a light, going north on Lawrence Expressway. On my left was an RX-8 and on my right was an RX-7 (2nd gen). I rev'd hoping to catch their interest. I received no response. Oh well. They shouldn't waste their gas on me anyways... not that I'd take it much over the speed limit. The driver of the RX-8 was an older guy .. probably grew up loving low-profile, well-balanced road cars. I can see him owning a Ferrari or something. Maybe he does.. and the RX-8 is just his commuter. The RX-7 has two huge fart cans coming out of his rear .. angled out and up. Totally N1 style. I didn't doubt for a second that the car nor its younger driver had balls.
The turning lane lights turned yellow. I figured I'll just accelerate fast. The turning lane lights turned red. Times up. I gave blipped the throttle a little bit and released the clutch. I have just reached 4k on the tach and the RX-8 starts taking off while the RX-7 is just hanging back. It looked like the old guy was going to entertain me, so I stomped on the gas. I hit V-"OMG SO FAST CAN'T HOLD ON LOSING MY FACE"-Tec. Redline approaches quickly, but I'm nowhere near catching up to the 8. I power shift into second and my tires break traction (damn, I need new tires - and an alignment). I near my redline again, but at this point, I guestimated that he is well into the 70s while I am just reaching the mid 60s. Technically, its over.
All the while my attention was on the RX-8, I didn't notice the RX-7 remained behind me. He decided to punch it at that moment .. I hear his turbo[s] spooling as he left me behind .. as if I was standing still. He reached his redline and shifts. I hear the loud hiss from the blow-off valve[s] and see the sparks from the backfire. He's running rich as evident by the clouds of black smoke. But that is all okay as I still envy the snails.
That made me happy. They showed off and wasted their gas, but I got to see both of them leave me behind like I was nothing. One day, I will be fast enough...
and where are all of our writers? :(
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, March 30th, 2005
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12:23 am
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bdc217
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Would anyone know how I could add a digital speedometer to my car?
My speedometer only goes up to 110 MPH and I was going ALOT faster than that on Sunday and would like to know exactly how much. (I would guess I was going about 150+ but I want to know exactly how much)
Any help/directions would be awesome.
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(29 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, January 14th, 2005
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10:45 am
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| Sunday, January 9th, 2005
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11:24 am
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| Wednesday, December 1st, 2004
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7:44 pm
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| Monday, November 29th, 2004
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12:03 am - been a quiet community lately.. so.
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| Saturday, November 13th, 2004
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4:02 am
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amber_kay
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...Maybe at a light,... maybe
on the freeway,... any two lane street would do. There's that moment
when you initiate and they respond. You know you're on. From then on
it's just a quest for the right opportunity. The anticipation builds.
A lot of communication happens with no words. An aggressive lane
change, a flick of the throttle, the flashing lights, the three
fingers, the three beeps of a horn,... there are lots of ways to
express it. It becomes clearly mutual. They want it. You want it. You
are like minds with the same desire and you need each other to
experience that intense but fleeting moment. It finally happens. The
focus is so extreme the rest of the world melts away and it's just the
two of you. The endorphins are rushing through your body but you don't
even notice. You give it everything you've got as you watch the needle
climb to the redline and then throw it into the next gear, just to
watch it climb again. If you have the chance you throw a quick glance
to your side to see where you stand, but you're probably too consumed
by the moment to let your eyes stray from the gauges or the road
ahead. Before you even had a chance to think about it a winner was
declared and it's all over. You finally realize that every muscle in
your body has tensed. You tingle and shake. You don't know who they
were, where they came from, what their name is or even the sound of
their voice. You part ways, likely never to see each other again. But
that person just got you high.
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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1:23 am - Two Tales
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equiraptor
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I drive a stock 1994 Miata. I'm not planning on leaving her stock, but the parts I want are rather costly, and I'm paying back college loans, so... Oh well. I still drive her hard, and I love finding others who drive their cars hard as well.
My first tale concerns a blue Viper with white racing stripes. It's been suggested to me that this might have been a GTS, but even a standard Viper should kill a stock Miata so... I was driving up 183 (a three lane/direction restricted access freeway in the area), when I saw a pack of cars a bit ahead of me, with a Viper trailing a bit behind. He was in the middle lane, as was I. I suspect he saw me coming up quickly (at least 15mph over traffic speed), because he changed lanes, as if to let me buy. I was thinking "Observant driver, high powered car. I wonder if he'll chase me." As I was approaching him and the pack, I look over the cars carefully. I'm trying to identify holes in traffic and which drivers are likely to change from their current course of action. I come by the Viper, slowing a little for my planned maneuvers. He comes in behind me and starts to follow. We take different paths through the pack. Because of the combination of size and maneuverability of the Miata, and plain good luck, I make it out of the pack first and I floor it. The Viper barely manages to catch me as I exit. I call that the time I beat a Viper. Some say I exaggerate.
Another time, I was about to take an entrance ramp onto this same road when I see a jet black BMW and a Nissan (I think a 300ZX) flying down the ramp. The Nissan takes a different twist from the Bimmer, and exits the freeway. The Bimmer slows, giving me a chance to catch him, and given his previous behavior, I was quite sure he'd come after me. So I chase him down and fly by (hey, with my low powered engine vs. his ///M3, I'll take every advantage I can get). He comes after me and catches me with ease. He follows me to my exit, and I realize I recognize him! He's a police detective I know! That was somewhere between incredibly fun and scary. We later talk of the incident, and though he said he couldn't see me clearly at first, there was never any doubt in his mind that that Miata had me behind the wheel. Should I be proud, or ashamed?
Other times, I've had my butt handed to me by a number of vehicles, from BMW 540s to... well, I don't remember the rest. I maintain that the Miata is a cornering vehicle, and isn't intended for raw power in a strait line. ;)
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(26 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, November 11th, 2004
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4:12 pm - The best race ever!
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amber_kay
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I didn't write this. But it made me laugh so hard I cried. In fact I'm still laughing from it!
I borrowed my wife's Geo Metro last night. One liter of raw power, 3 cylinders of asphalt-tearing terror on thirteen-inch rims. It's stock, alright, nothing done to it, but it pushes the barely 2000 pounds of Metro around with AUTHORITY. I'm always catching mopeds and 18-wheelers by surprise...I was headed back from Baskin Robbins with my manly triple-latte cappuccino blast ("No Cinnamon, ma'am, I take it BLACK"), when I stopped at a streetlight. As the Metro throbbed its throaty idle around me, I sipped my bold beverage and wiped the white froth my stiff upper lip. I was minding my own business, but then I heard a rev from the next lane. I turned, made eye contact, then let my eyes trace over the competition.
Ford Festiva -- a late model, could be trouble. Low profile tires, curb feelers, and schoolbus-yellow paint. Yep, a hot rod, for sure. The howl of his motor snapped my reverie, and I looked back into the driver's eyes, nodded, then blipped my own throttle. As I tugged on my driving gloves and slipped on my sunglasses (gotta look cool to be fast, and I am *damn* cool, hence...), the night was split with the sound of seven screaming cylinders...Then the light turned... I almost had him out of the hole, my three pounding cylinders thrusting me at least a millimeter back into my seat, as smoke pouring from my front right tire... my unlimited slip differential was letting me down! I saw in the corner of my eyes, a yellow snout gaining, and I heard the roar of* his four cylinders. He slung by me, right front wheel juddering against the pavement, and he flashed me a smile as his .7 extra liters of motor stretched its legs. I kept my foot gamely in it, though, waiting for the CHECK ENGINE light to blink on in the one-gauge (no tachometer here!) instrument panel. I saw a glimpse of chrome under his bumper, and knew the ugly truth...He was running a custom exhaust --probably a 2-into-1 dual exhaust... maybe even cutouts! Damn his hot-rod soul! The old lady passing us on the crosswalk cast a dirty look in our boy-racer direction...Yet still I persisted, with my three pumping pistons singing a heady high-pitched song, wound fully out. Though only a few handfuls of seconds had passed, we were nearing the crosswalk at the other side of the intersection, and I heard the note of his engine change as he made his shift to second, and I saw his grin in his rearview mirror fade as he missed the shift! I rocketed by, shifting, and nursed the clutch gently in to keep from bogging, keeping my motor spinning hot and pulling me ahead, now trailing a cloud of stinking clutch smoke. Not ready to give up so easily, he left his foot in it, revving, and I heard one wheel *almost* chirp as he finally found second and dropped the clutch. We careened over the crosswalk, now going at least 15 miles per hour. A bicyclist passed us, but intent on the race as we were, neither of us batted an eye. He pulled slowly abreast of me, and neck and neck, we made the shift to third, the scream of motors deafening all pedestrians within a five foot circle. He nosed ahead as we passed 30 miles an hour, then eased in front of me, taunting, as we shifted into fourth. I was staring up the dual 6" chrome tips of his exhaust, snarling, my cappuccino forgotten, as he lifted a little to take the next corner. I saw my opportunity, and counting on the innate agility of* my trusty steed, I pulled wide into the number two lane and kept my foot buried in carpet. Slowly, I inched around him, feeling my Metro roll slowly to the left as I came abreast in the midst of this gradual sweeping turn. I felt the Geo ease onto its suspension stops, and felt the right rear wheel slowly leave the ground - no matter, though, because my drive wheels, up front, were pulling me through the corner, and around the Festiva ...The Ford driver beat his wheel in rage as my wife's car eased past him on the outside, my P165/54R13's screaming in protest, as we raced to the next light. We coasted down, neck-and neck, to the red light. I tightened my driving gloves, ready for another round, when this WIMP in the next car meekly flipped his turn signal and made a right. Chevy(Suzuki) superiority reigns!!!I drove off sipping my masculine drink, awash in my sheer virility, looking for other unwitting targets.... Perhaps a Yugo, or maybe even a Volkswagon Van!
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, October 28th, 2004
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11:30 am - turbo kit for sale
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xprettyxnxpunkx
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I'm selling my B-series turbo kit for dirt Cheap!! Here is some info about it, please e-mail me if you are interested... PLEASE DON'T E-MAIL ME IF YOU AREN'T!!
Garret Turbo
GReddy Exhaust Manifold
Down Pipe
Nice Sized FMIC with piping (3" thick)
DSM Crushed BOV
BRAND NEW HKS Super-AFR
BRAND NEW Vortec FMU
AutoMeter UltraLite Boost Gauge
All Required Pipes, and Hoses are included. If you'd like to see some pictures please feel free to e-mail me (IF YOU ARE SERIOUS ABOUT BUYING!)
musicgoddess123@aol.com
or just leave a comment and i'll get back to you
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, October 18th, 2004
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11:23 pm
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amber_kay
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3 hours into a 4 hour road trip home. dark. raining. freeway. Geo Metro.
So far on this trip I've heard tubos wooshing by, I've heard rotaries buzz away from me, I've heard the supercharged grumble mixed with whine of drivers taking full advantage of the left lane, I've heard downshifts roaring with intent as they took off to pursue something that would have left them behind me if I went in the King Shitbox of all econo shitboxes. I've seen neon, stickers, hood scoops, expensive shiny rims glimmering in the glare of my headlights as they sent standing water flying, and a large assortment of winged wonders. I don't know what about a rainy, Sunday, October night drew them all out but they were there in full force. I let them all go. I had no choice. I tried my best to not pay attention to them anymore. It hurt too much.
Another one flew by me, as most cars do when you're driving a Geo Metro. I gave it little thought until I saw it had a pair of round tail lights. I peered through the smudge of flimsy wipers grazing a trashed windshield and came to one conclusion,... "that's not an Impala!"
I've only ever seen one in the wild once. I was at a car show of sorts and it was in the parking lot. Not in the show, in the parking lot! I was young then. Not young in age but young in my car obsession. I didn't know the the wonder of the vehicle I was peering in the windows of. I recognized the name from the racing games I've watched but never played myself. I was attracted to it. I examined the dents and dings and stained interior and longed to watched it's lovingly detailed features unfold under my hands. It was blue. If I remember correctly it had Washington plates. It's been over a decade since I've experienced "love at first sight" but walking around this car gave me a subtle reminder of what it feels like. No car I didn't own has ever stirred up that degree of emotion in me. Beauty seems like an inadequate word. And at the time this was just based on appearance. I didn't even know what it was capable of. I was just drawn to it's superficial qualities. Man,... if only I could go back to that day knowing what I know now......
It was probably only going about 80-85mph. The speed limit was 65 and I was comfortable following someone who was going between that and 5 more. But once I saw it things changed. I've probably rolled more than a 100,000 miles worth of wheels, constantly in search of finding this car on the road. I've even told the guys at work, "If I ever find one I'm following it. I don't care what I have or how important it is. I don't care how far or for how long. You'll just have to accept that fact." They snicker and say "OK".
I saw it go past me and reality all the sudden had less value than whatever I dreamed last night. The actions happened without me even thinking about them. Downshift...gas, downshift further... gas....downshift again.... gas. GRRRR!!!! Oh that's right. I"M IN A GEO FUCKING METRO!
My heart sank. No, you don't understand. If I said it sank all the way down to my feet and oozed out my toes and down a sewer drain it still wouldn't explain the pain I felt at that moment. It's entirely possible that the moment I've spent the last few years searching for just flew by me and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it. I did all I could and in spite of it watched those round tail lights move car after car away from me.
This can't be happening to me! Not tonight. Not in this weather. Not in this car. If there is a God in heaven he wouldn't put me through this suffering. My mind went crazy with "If only I was driving this car, or that one, or even the other one"...." ANY car would have been better than what I was in now. But there I was. Forcing the most out of 3 cylinders that my 2 digit horsepower rating had to offer, and it wasn't enough.
Damn my car!
Damn my life!
Damn it all!
I lost sight of it. I did my best. I didn't plan to play with it. I wasn't going to follow it home. I just wanted to get a good look. I've lowered my standards to just wanting to see it. Just watch it move across familiar concrete. I just wanted to see more than taillights. But I couldn't even get that much. It was gone. All I had was some round glowing red as it flew by in the left lane. It was all over...
The sorrow was all consuming. Angst hasn't eaten away at me like this since my teenage gothic days. I was losing the battle against fighting off the bitterness. So much frustration. So much suffering. All over a car that I never even got to see. I decided it was all just stupid of me and went about continueing my trek home. I gave up. It was all gone and over.
Miles later I switched to another freeway, and there it was again! I saw the tail lights stuck behind a light on an off ramp. Conscience thought had nothing to do with me taking that exit, which was nowhere near my home. I wasn't sure how to feel when I finally caught up with it and watched the Accord V6 with aftermarket taillights roll under the streetlight in front of me.
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