FastEd
Hunter
- Joined
- Jun 13, 2008
- Messages
- 2,244
- City & State/Province
- RIVERSIDE, OH, Home of the Air Force Museum
Driving back home Friday night with a trunk full of groceries, about 9:00PM,
I stopped at the light on Monument Ave. I was driving my old faithful 1965 Nash Rambler. That massive magnum nitro express six cylinder with the single exhaust was cackling a little. Mainly due to a small crack in the manifold. In fact that old rusty muffler is getting a little loud, too.
It was beginning to get a little dark but I was still wearing my WWII Bomber Pilot gold rimmed sun glasses and the Kentucky Wildcat cap was on backwards. Everything was copasetic.
Suddenly, in the fast lane, A nice clean Chevy II rolls up and stops. The nice looking older lady, behind the wheel, looked over and surveyed the old Rambler. The disgusting look on her face would be hard to miss.
Then she had the audacity to yell at me, and it was quiet audible:
“Lets see what you got old man!”
Well, I have always been fond of a challenge and now it felt like the juices were flowing again. Another great opportunity to demonstrate Man’s superiority over the Female species.
With the old six revving like a truck monster the light changed and we both lurched out of the hole belching fire! Although I didn’t have a tachometer on the dash I could feel that sudden surge of power pushing me back in the seat. Gulping that regular gas in the tank we were starting to move. I had almost forgotten how good it feels.
After a couple of seconds I could see the Chevy II headlights fading away in the rear view mirror. The race was over that quick.
When I stopped the Chevy rolled up and the good looking older lady yells, “You got lucky Granpa! I missed second gear!”
All I can say is, Its always great to be winner no matter how you did it.
I stopped at the light on Monument Ave. I was driving my old faithful 1965 Nash Rambler. That massive magnum nitro express six cylinder with the single exhaust was cackling a little. Mainly due to a small crack in the manifold. In fact that old rusty muffler is getting a little loud, too.
It was beginning to get a little dark but I was still wearing my WWII Bomber Pilot gold rimmed sun glasses and the Kentucky Wildcat cap was on backwards. Everything was copasetic.
Suddenly, in the fast lane, A nice clean Chevy II rolls up and stops. The nice looking older lady, behind the wheel, looked over and surveyed the old Rambler. The disgusting look on her face would be hard to miss.
Then she had the audacity to yell at me, and it was quiet audible:
“Lets see what you got old man!”
Well, I have always been fond of a challenge and now it felt like the juices were flowing again. Another great opportunity to demonstrate Man’s superiority over the Female species.
With the old six revving like a truck monster the light changed and we both lurched out of the hole belching fire! Although I didn’t have a tachometer on the dash I could feel that sudden surge of power pushing me back in the seat. Gulping that regular gas in the tank we were starting to move. I had almost forgotten how good it feels.
After a couple of seconds I could see the Chevy II headlights fading away in the rear view mirror. The race was over that quick.
When I stopped the Chevy rolled up and the good looking older lady yells, “You got lucky Granpa! I missed second gear!”
All I can say is, Its always great to be winner no matter how you did it.