After my seven laps in the Lamborghini at Exotics Racing, we pulled into the pits, and we debriefed, and I asked Megan about her favorite car at the track. Immediately she smiled, “The Porsche GT3.”
I asked why, and she replied, “It’s a driver’s car. I feel more at home in it.” That led me to research some of their differences.
The Lambo slightly edges…
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My Lambo drive changed me, increasing my love of speed, and I couldn’t help but wonder: if I had tried this when younger, could I have made it in sports car racing? I passed a younger guy in a more powerful car on the track. My dad held the Cannonball Run championship. Yeah, the train had left the station, 71 was to old to end retirement. But 50 years earlier…Ever wonder the same?
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For about four years, one night each week I’d head east from Oxnard to Newbury Park on Potrero Road, the old Conejo Grade, much was steep and winding with fine curves…ideal for my Mustang ragtop. Returning uphill at 10 PM, Potrero had no traffic at all, and I could let the Mustang be the sports car Ford designed. When approaching a curve, I let off the gas to decrease my speed…braking while turning doesn’t give you optimal control. No one ever caught or passed me on that road, and I felt pretty confident about my cornering, until…
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Exotics Racing started with some classroom tips on driving our beasts, including that another car would be on the course with us and we could pass or be passed, cornering, paddle shifting, and how a trained instructor would sit side by side telling me what to do…or not do. All was new, and I checked out the competition, who would be fastest? All were younger, by far. This would be my first ride in a true supercar, on a 1.8-mile track with 8 turns. I had dreamed of driving a Lambo for decades, but felt quite intimidated. Certainly didn’t want to embarrass myself.
They told us…
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I learned to drive on a land rocket, a ’63 Viking Blue Ford Galaxie 500, with a high compression V8. My own first car: a ’64 Ford Falcon Futura, looked sporty but the slant 6 was a dog. Then came two Ford vans, and ’78 Volvo 242 arrived, slow and unreliable, but safe. My fastest, an ’87 turbo Chrysler LeBaron GTS that cornered like it was on rails…when out of the shop. Two Mustang ragtops brought a lot of fun.
With each, knowing their strengths and weaknesses allowed me to trust them. Meaning…
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As Jerry and I headed east on our 2022 East Coast trek in May, I had low expectations for the Kansas section of I-80. My wife grew up east of Dodge City, and my midsummer or winter visits birthed memories of dry and barren, with no real hills. But our third day was Sunday and I wanted to worship, so I popped on Mercy Me, and I focused God while riding. Gentle hills emerged and in May, the fields…
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Tastes can vary between long term friends. In our Gray Hogs group, Mick and I kept eagle eyes out for Dairy Queens to enjoy Blizzards. But whenever Jerry spotted a Long John Silvers, that would be our lunch or dinner spot. He loves their fish, and even asks for the deep-fried crumbs.That’s why Jerry’s hopes got so high on our 2022 East Coast ride. Not many…
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…a passenger van appear out of nowhere, and I struck him….My yellow Wing bled green coolant and black oil; the forks got twisted terribly. I merely had a scrape on my elbow.
And so the audacious ride ended, one bike crapped out, one totaled. Jerry, unable to trust his, sold it the next day to a bike shop, took the train to his daughter in Maryland and flew home. I rented a car and drove home, stopping to see my sis in Kentucky.
But was God behind it? Did we ignore his earlier hints in our ambition to achieve the states? Only he knows, but…
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