First photo I am sitting waiting for the car rally to start.
I came in first place after running a red light with a traffic police officer waving me through. I felt good to beat all those guys with the big toys.
I won two years in a row.
How often do you have the chance to throw a bucket of ice water at the chef of police during their running race. Your kidding, really, we all looked at each other to see who was throwing wet sponges.
I was not charged as the driver in front jammed on the brakes to make a left turn without signals or lights. The road was just paved with the steam roller and was still smoking.
The owner of the Chevelle in the first picture lent me his car while mine was being straightened, but I had to do a motor and transmission swap in a barn before hand.
I wish I had never sold the car. In about 92 I had cleaned up the minor rust and repainted the car my self at a local Collage. After that is sat about until I sold it to a guy I had already sold a 77 civic, he blew the motor.
He sent me pictures of him and his drunk buddies jumping and taking hammers to it. All he wanted was the motor.
I cried as I had a couple spare motors I would have probably just given to him.
The only thing I have left from that car is one of the fender emblems that fell off in the crash. The Chevelle owner bless him, he gave it back to me a couple of years ago.
