Disclaimer:
Long story is contained herewith in and may potentially bore some or all reading. My apologies go out in advance.
Intro:
After a productive Saturday morning of yard work and miscellaneous errands in, on, and around the house I decided that I needed to spend some quality time with Gertrude. For those of you that don’t know, “Gertrude” is my ’87 Grand National. A fitting name if I do say so myself for a crotchety old woman that’s just a little passed her prime and quite often needs a little help getting home (I’m sure my friendly AAA agent can vouch for me). Never the less I love her and know it’s part of the deal.
Gertrude has been a little “under the weather” lately because of a faulty crank sensor. The part’s been sitting on the driver’s seat for over a month and the guilt finally got to me enough to finally get under the car and finally fix her up. Fast forward about an hour and a half, 2 Sam Adams’, and a couple of scraped knuckles later, it’s time to see if she’ll fire up. First try and she starts right up, Damn I feel proud! *large smile on face*. I put away my tools wash her up real quick and think of reasons to cruise around and waste gas.
I walk into the house to take a shower so I can enjoy my cruise and the Mrs. Meets me at the door. “Do you want to go with me to my mother’s house? I need to pick up our mail and some other miscellaneous things that are still there” she asks (we just moved and still have some of our possessions scattered/stored in various places). “Well, I was planning on taking Gertrude for a drive, do you mind if we take the GN” I ask. “Ughhh, why? That car makes me smell but OK” she replies. HAHA, a leaky exhaust manifold is the culprit but I haven’t gotten around to that yet.
Color Commentary:
After a quick shower we’re ready to go. I grab the keys open the passenger door for the Mrs. (I am a gentleman after all). I hop in and fire it up, glance over the gauges and my ScanMaster to make sure nothing is out of sorts. Everything looks good. “The windows are kinda dirty” proclaims the Mrs. I simply shrug and nod in agreement. I let her warm up a bit (the car not the Mrs), I put the car in “D” and we’re off. The sweet sound of the “turbo whistling” automatically cancels out any bickering already under way in the seat next to me.
“My window won’t go down?” she asks in a half surprised/half aggravated tone of voice. “Yea I know, it has a bad switch that I need to replace” I explain. Anyway, we continue on, her mother’s house is about 15 minutes away and it includes a nice straight stretch of road with a couple of stoplights. I can’t help but think to myself that I hope she isn’t going to bitch and moan the whole way there (we had a little disagreement earlier in the day regarding “proper lawn care”) and I think I’m paying for it now. :shrug:
“OOOOhhhhh the new JoJo song” she exclaims while turning up the volume on my radio. Great, now I’m cruising around with JoJo blairing out of my car but I must admit I do like the song (what?!). Anyway, we pull onto the main road and I’m immediately distracted by the sight of a fox body LX hatch a little ways up, I proceed to pick up the pace and try to catch up for a closer look.
The Setup:
I pull into the left hand lane of the 2-lane road, he’s 2 cars up in the right lane. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the car around town. It looks to be a fairly clean example (not sure on the year). Maroon with tinted windows and the stock 10-hole wheels. The Mrs. is already on to me though “You’re not going to try and race him are you?” “Nahhhhhhh, I just want to take a closer look, I think I might know him” I respond trying to talk over JoJo’s signature high pitched shrieks. She looks over at me knowing full well what I’m thinking with her patented “You’re BS’ing me” look. Hehe.
The lane Mr. Mustang is in splits off about ½ mile up the road, I’m already scheming and hoping he doesn’t bare right which will put us down at the bottom of a hill at a prime stoplight another ½ mile down the road.
“My mom is blah blah blah blah blah……………” I nod in agreement at whatever she’s yabbering about and watch as Capt. 5.0 stays on course. At this point the 1 car left in front of me is picking up the pace which is a good thing as I pull up about even. At this point he’s well aware of my presence and we begin to pace each other. His driver’s window in now down and he keeps glancing over either checking out me less than perfect 20 year old project or the pissed off looking attractive blonde riding shotgun. “You’re not a kid anymore you know, and you have no more free tows left”. LOL unfortunately she’s right on both counts I think to myself as we come down the hill approaching the stoplight. Seems like it was “meant to be” as the light ahead turns yellow and we both begin to slow down. Oh yea it’s on!!!!
The Kill:
First a quick pause for modification identification:
Me (’87 GN). Mods: 70K orig miles, stock block, stock turbo, injectors, Turbo-Tweak 93 chip, FPR, Hotwired Walbro 340 Fuel pump, test pipe, Hooker exhaust, gauges, Scanmaster and other minor misc thingamabobs.
Him: (‘90ish Mustang). Mods: Exhaust of some sort I think and I have no idea what else.
At this point we’re both sitting at the light idle. I’m busy peeking at my gauges and double checking the scanmaster readings. Everything looks good as I feel the typical nervous tension start to creep in. This is usually a “long” light but it seems longer than normal today. Buttons by the *****cat dolls is now playing in the background, I hit the mute button on them thank god, “This is stupid” she quips (I wish the mute button would work on her at this point, I think to myself). Never the less, I refuse to get distracted from the obvious task at hand. A quick final glance into the mirrors, we’re clear. I’m looking at the adjacent light and watch it turn yellow. Ughhh, I have a lump in my throat. I hear the Mustang’s exhaust start to ramp up as he was obviously watching the light as well. I build up boost against the brake as my left leg gets twitchy. The adjacent light turns red and a second later WE HAVE GREEN!! I hammer the gas and my under inflated Coopers begin to yelp as they scatter for traction. A loud bang from the trunk area scares the **** out of the Mrs (turns out it was my jack that wasn’t fastened down) as I start to let off the go-pedal b/c I obviously needed more traction and less gas. I have a nose on him at this point and we stay even as I dip back into the throttle and catch a healthy bark out of 2nd gear that sends the trim around my radio flying onto the carpetless floor boards (LOL I’ve been meaning to fix that) the sound of the turbo “sneezing” as the wastegate expels the excess boost puts a big grin on my face. I stay on it and appear to be putting more distance on this pony, the rumble of 5.0 litres fades, trumped by the whistle that only fellow GN guys can truly appreciate. I finally approach 80ish and then let off. I’d say I had a minimum of 2 cars on him.
The early 20’s guy doesn’t seem surprised by the outcome and actually has a big smile on his face and appears to want to chat a bit, but I try to motion that my window doesn’t work and a ”thumbsup” will have to do for today.
“Was that really necessary?” asks my half-smiling co-pilot.
“No it wasn’t dear” was all I replied as we proceeded to her mom’s.
Cliffs:
GN vs Mustang/Me vs pissed off wife (Good guy wins both times)
Long story is contained herewith in and may potentially bore some or all reading. My apologies go out in advance.
Intro:
After a productive Saturday morning of yard work and miscellaneous errands in, on, and around the house I decided that I needed to spend some quality time with Gertrude. For those of you that don’t know, “Gertrude” is my ’87 Grand National. A fitting name if I do say so myself for a crotchety old woman that’s just a little passed her prime and quite often needs a little help getting home (I’m sure my friendly AAA agent can vouch for me). Never the less I love her and know it’s part of the deal.
Gertrude has been a little “under the weather” lately because of a faulty crank sensor. The part’s been sitting on the driver’s seat for over a month and the guilt finally got to me enough to finally get under the car and finally fix her up. Fast forward about an hour and a half, 2 Sam Adams’, and a couple of scraped knuckles later, it’s time to see if she’ll fire up. First try and she starts right up, Damn I feel proud! *large smile on face*. I put away my tools wash her up real quick and think of reasons to cruise around and waste gas.
I walk into the house to take a shower so I can enjoy my cruise and the Mrs. Meets me at the door. “Do you want to go with me to my mother’s house? I need to pick up our mail and some other miscellaneous things that are still there” she asks (we just moved and still have some of our possessions scattered/stored in various places). “Well, I was planning on taking Gertrude for a drive, do you mind if we take the GN” I ask. “Ughhh, why? That car makes me smell but OK” she replies. HAHA, a leaky exhaust manifold is the culprit but I haven’t gotten around to that yet.
Color Commentary:
After a quick shower we’re ready to go. I grab the keys open the passenger door for the Mrs. (I am a gentleman after all). I hop in and fire it up, glance over the gauges and my ScanMaster to make sure nothing is out of sorts. Everything looks good. “The windows are kinda dirty” proclaims the Mrs. I simply shrug and nod in agreement. I let her warm up a bit (the car not the Mrs), I put the car in “D” and we’re off. The sweet sound of the “turbo whistling” automatically cancels out any bickering already under way in the seat next to me.
“My window won’t go down?” she asks in a half surprised/half aggravated tone of voice. “Yea I know, it has a bad switch that I need to replace” I explain. Anyway, we continue on, her mother’s house is about 15 minutes away and it includes a nice straight stretch of road with a couple of stoplights. I can’t help but think to myself that I hope she isn’t going to bitch and moan the whole way there (we had a little disagreement earlier in the day regarding “proper lawn care”) and I think I’m paying for it now. :shrug:
“OOOOhhhhh the new JoJo song” she exclaims while turning up the volume on my radio. Great, now I’m cruising around with JoJo blairing out of my car but I must admit I do like the song (what?!). Anyway, we pull onto the main road and I’m immediately distracted by the sight of a fox body LX hatch a little ways up, I proceed to pick up the pace and try to catch up for a closer look.
The Setup:
I pull into the left hand lane of the 2-lane road, he’s 2 cars up in the right lane. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the car around town. It looks to be a fairly clean example (not sure on the year). Maroon with tinted windows and the stock 10-hole wheels. The Mrs. is already on to me though “You’re not going to try and race him are you?” “Nahhhhhhh, I just want to take a closer look, I think I might know him” I respond trying to talk over JoJo’s signature high pitched shrieks. She looks over at me knowing full well what I’m thinking with her patented “You’re BS’ing me” look. Hehe.
The lane Mr. Mustang is in splits off about ½ mile up the road, I’m already scheming and hoping he doesn’t bare right which will put us down at the bottom of a hill at a prime stoplight another ½ mile down the road.
“My mom is blah blah blah blah blah……………” I nod in agreement at whatever she’s yabbering about and watch as Capt. 5.0 stays on course. At this point the 1 car left in front of me is picking up the pace which is a good thing as I pull up about even. At this point he’s well aware of my presence and we begin to pace each other. His driver’s window in now down and he keeps glancing over either checking out me less than perfect 20 year old project or the pissed off looking attractive blonde riding shotgun. “You’re not a kid anymore you know, and you have no more free tows left”. LOL unfortunately she’s right on both counts I think to myself as we come down the hill approaching the stoplight. Seems like it was “meant to be” as the light ahead turns yellow and we both begin to slow down. Oh yea it’s on!!!!
The Kill:
First a quick pause for modification identification:
Me (’87 GN). Mods: 70K orig miles, stock block, stock turbo, injectors, Turbo-Tweak 93 chip, FPR, Hotwired Walbro 340 Fuel pump, test pipe, Hooker exhaust, gauges, Scanmaster and other minor misc thingamabobs.
Him: (‘90ish Mustang). Mods: Exhaust of some sort I think and I have no idea what else.
At this point we’re both sitting at the light idle. I’m busy peeking at my gauges and double checking the scanmaster readings. Everything looks good as I feel the typical nervous tension start to creep in. This is usually a “long” light but it seems longer than normal today. Buttons by the *****cat dolls is now playing in the background, I hit the mute button on them thank god, “This is stupid” she quips (I wish the mute button would work on her at this point, I think to myself). Never the less, I refuse to get distracted from the obvious task at hand. A quick final glance into the mirrors, we’re clear. I’m looking at the adjacent light and watch it turn yellow. Ughhh, I have a lump in my throat. I hear the Mustang’s exhaust start to ramp up as he was obviously watching the light as well. I build up boost against the brake as my left leg gets twitchy. The adjacent light turns red and a second later WE HAVE GREEN!! I hammer the gas and my under inflated Coopers begin to yelp as they scatter for traction. A loud bang from the trunk area scares the **** out of the Mrs (turns out it was my jack that wasn’t fastened down) as I start to let off the go-pedal b/c I obviously needed more traction and less gas. I have a nose on him at this point and we stay even as I dip back into the throttle and catch a healthy bark out of 2nd gear that sends the trim around my radio flying onto the carpetless floor boards (LOL I’ve been meaning to fix that) the sound of the turbo “sneezing” as the wastegate expels the excess boost puts a big grin on my face. I stay on it and appear to be putting more distance on this pony, the rumble of 5.0 litres fades, trumped by the whistle that only fellow GN guys can truly appreciate. I finally approach 80ish and then let off. I’d say I had a minimum of 2 cars on him.
The early 20’s guy doesn’t seem surprised by the outcome and actually has a big smile on his face and appears to want to chat a bit, but I try to motion that my window doesn’t work and a ”thumbsup” will have to do for today.
“Was that really necessary?” asks my half-smiling co-pilot.
“No it wasn’t dear” was all I replied as we proceeded to her mom’s.
Cliffs:
GN vs Mustang/Me vs pissed off wife (Good guy wins both times)
