Let me set the scene: So here I am, cruising the highway with the T-Tops off, minding my own business. It's a beautiful day, probably about 75* or so, sunny, and not a cloud in the sky. I'm just sitting back, listening to my favorite country station, 92.9, playing "I Drive Your Truck" by Lee Brice, singing along, horribly I admit.. On this particular stretch of highway, there is only two lanes, and I am cruising about 70 MPH on the right side. Traffic is coming up rather quickly, they must be driving slow. I move over to the left to pass, and then I see it.
A Sunset Orange Metallic (SOM), my favorite color F-Body I might add, is leading the pack of slow-driving traffic. Lovely. I figured this was some old dude going through a mid-life crisis, but whatever, I am not out looking for a race, so I just plow by this car, admiring the beautiful paint as I drive by. When I get to the window, I notice some skinny-ass white boy behind the wheel. We lock stares, and grin. He knows whats going to happen, as do I. I hear him downshift, and this incredibly loud exhaust tone fills my ears and cabin (which had been occupied by the wind and whistling of no roof for the past 10 minutes until then). Great, one of those guys that chops the exhaust off to make it sound good.. What a douche. I downshift to follow. We are rolling at 50 MPH.
He looks at me, I look at him, he gives me the two-finger-signal to take the jump.. I'm like ? Okay you cocky bastard, Ill bite, you probably were going to watch my taillights disappear quick anyways, so whats the point of arguing eh? I hit it, things are going well, I am ahead, as per usual (this Buick is unbeatable!) As much as I thought this car was a slow turd, I still admired them. Beautiful cars. I was watching the car in my side-view mirror, thinking "Man I love that WS... "HOLY SHIT". I hear it, the familiar sound I live with day to day.. The spooling of a turbo. FAHCK (Boston accent), I picked on the wrong car! It's too late now, I am approaching 90 MPH, I lock my toque converter and hold on. Seconds later, I hear the exhaust, it gets closer. Its right on top of me... SHIT, he passed me. 2-3 cars were put on me in no time. Wow, I thought.. I feel like a douche now.. That's what I get for assuming.. I look at his car with my jaw dropped.. Smoke coming from the wheel wells.. Gulp..
I line up with him again, this time rolling about 45-50 MPH again, I didn't get a chance to look. I am about at his rear quarter. I figure, what the hell. Ill try and get the jump on him to see if I can hang a bit better. I nail it, watch as the speedo climbs, higher, higher, 85, 90 LOCK THE CONVERTER! This time it takes him several seconds to pass me, hard, like last time. Well damn.. That car is FAAASSSTTT.
I'd like to thank my friend Sam for the runs! Most of the above was BS, we were hanging out when we decide to head to my house and check our new lift out. He gave me a big hit.. That's what I get for messing with a 140 MPH car hahaha! Great fun, and we will do it again. Maybe next time with a Go-Pro for shits and giggles. Hope you all enjoyed it. (and actually read it).
Zack
A Sunset Orange Metallic (SOM), my favorite color F-Body I might add, is leading the pack of slow-driving traffic. Lovely. I figured this was some old dude going through a mid-life crisis, but whatever, I am not out looking for a race, so I just plow by this car, admiring the beautiful paint as I drive by. When I get to the window, I notice some skinny-ass white boy behind the wheel. We lock stares, and grin. He knows whats going to happen, as do I. I hear him downshift, and this incredibly loud exhaust tone fills my ears and cabin (which had been occupied by the wind and whistling of no roof for the past 10 minutes until then). Great, one of those guys that chops the exhaust off to make it sound good.. What a douche. I downshift to follow. We are rolling at 50 MPH.
He looks at me, I look at him, he gives me the two-finger-signal to take the jump.. I'm like ? Okay you cocky bastard, Ill bite, you probably were going to watch my taillights disappear quick anyways, so whats the point of arguing eh? I hit it, things are going well, I am ahead, as per usual (this Buick is unbeatable!) As much as I thought this car was a slow turd, I still admired them. Beautiful cars. I was watching the car in my side-view mirror, thinking "Man I love that WS... "HOLY SHIT". I hear it, the familiar sound I live with day to day.. The spooling of a turbo. FAHCK (Boston accent), I picked on the wrong car! It's too late now, I am approaching 90 MPH, I lock my toque converter and hold on. Seconds later, I hear the exhaust, it gets closer. Its right on top of me... SHIT, he passed me. 2-3 cars were put on me in no time. Wow, I thought.. I feel like a douche now.. That's what I get for assuming.. I look at his car with my jaw dropped.. Smoke coming from the wheel wells.. Gulp..
I line up with him again, this time rolling about 45-50 MPH again, I didn't get a chance to look. I am about at his rear quarter. I figure, what the hell. Ill try and get the jump on him to see if I can hang a bit better. I nail it, watch as the speedo climbs, higher, higher, 85, 90 LOCK THE CONVERTER! This time it takes him several seconds to pass me, hard, like last time. Well damn.. That car is FAAASSSTTT.
I'd like to thank my friend Sam for the runs! Most of the above was BS, we were hanging out when we decide to head to my house and check our new lift out. He gave me a big hit.. That's what I get for messing with a 140 MPH car hahaha! Great fun, and we will do it again. Maybe next time with a Go-Pro for shits and giggles. Hope you all enjoyed it. (and actually read it).
Zack