Toebra
HalfDork
6/29/17 12:07 p.m.
What does it for you?
Last weekend was autocrossing on Saturday and Sunday. Primary competition in my class is a WRX STI, because my DD is a Mazdaspeed Miata, and if you do anything to one of them, you go from ES to STU, which is only slightly less rough than going from ES to BSP, which was the situation before I griped about not having a street tire class to run in. He crushed me on the wide open course we ran on last month and the month before, like over a second on a 70 second run. We were on a tight course for this go around. I picked up time each run, but was behind him on the first few runs. Last run did it, got him both days, 0.2 Saturday, 0.8 on Sunday.
Let's hear your tale of driving satisfaction.
calteg
Dork
6/29/17 12:17 p.m.
A week off work, driving up PCH with my wife in a miata, casually meandering through the giant redwood forest.
cool spring or fall day, nice 2 lane back road where I know the cops are scarce, and some good scenery. Throw in some small town eats somewhere along the way and I'm sold.
Just driving anywhere on decent two lane roads.
I will be driving up to visit my daughter and grand kids in FAR north VT. I have found routes that limit my use of I-87. Cuts own on the boredom.
Took my wife and one of her friends out too eat down old country roads. Turned a 70 mile trip into 140 miles but we all had a blast.
Last Sunday my wife and I took a nice morning drive with our local PCA group.
Last Sunday I competed in a 4-hour karting endurance race. Our team is full of great guys and we ran well, finishing 2nd out of 13 or so teams. The event raised over $104K for a homeless shelter / training facility in my home county.
Drive for 75
The event left me very sore, (karts beat the Hell out of you) but also very satisfied to have worked with great people, while having a blast!
Joe Gearin wrote:
The event left me very sore, (karts beat the Hell out of you) but also very satisfied to have worked with great people, while having a blast!
Understatement of the year there!
I did one a couple years ago where we had a 3 man team and we had fast lap times so we figured we would run one hour stints to cut down on time doing changes (you had to pit X number of times, but didn't have to swap drivers except once each).
We came in second overall with that strategy but I could barely lift my arms to drive home and when I woke up the next day I had a DEEP BLACK bruise running from my hip to by shoulder blade and another on left my thigh. It was the better part of a week before I could walk without a limp.
I'll do another in a heartbeat! Everyone was awesome and it was a great time. I might advise 15 or 20 minute changes like all the others did though ;)
Most of my truly great "driving moments" involved motorcycles. Perhaps not surprisingly, most of my "I'm going to die" moments . . . also motorcycles.
In reply to David S. Wallens:
What are you all doing in the left lane ?
oldtin
PowerDork
6/29/17 6:08 p.m.
heading over the crest coming in to turn 5 at road america then nailing 5 - 8. Although, in a miata cup car the rest of RA feels like it's taking forever.
Two years ago, a group of us went Chump racing with a pair of Integras. Both lasted the full 24, we were first and third in class, second and fifth overall. Standing there watching the checkers fall was deeply gratifying.
On a simpler note, getting a stock car of any class to turn through the middle of the corner without being loose in is the very best single accomplishment in the berkeleying world. If you have never stock car raced, you may dismiss this thought. You shouldn't.
I've come to the conclusion that driving anything that I don't drive everyday. Literally anything from a Freightliner strait truck, LS400, Miata, really anything other than something I drive everyday. I figure when I'm just driving to get somewhere the mode of transportation doesn't really matter.
To crush the roads. See the miles driven before you. Hear the lamentation of the tires.
A finely tuned carb on a warm spring day and no dawdlers. 
A long time ago in a place far away, before the real stresses of life took hold, I often would go on weekend drives.
One of those drives stand out as being special. And that feeling comes back to me every once in a great while. The sights, sounds and emotion come flooding back. It was the perfect culmination of man, machine and road. It is something I doubt I will ever experience again. I doubt many could grasp what was so special about it. The act of just driving around is not extraordinary. But the rush I got. The sense of freedom. The sensory overload. All of it lingers in my mind. I can not even put into words what it was like.
The car was certainly nothing special. In fact many here would likely scoff at it. 1976 Olds Cutlass. No interior aside from the two front seats and the dash, no radio. 350 Olds engine with a big, nasty Lunati cam with some worked heads flowing through a set of Hooker Super Comp headers. The three inch exhaust incorporated Hooker Areochamber mufflers with turndowns before the rear axle. It was loud. Very loud. It had the stock 2.73 rear end ratio so it was a dog off the line, but get it up on the cam out on the road and it felt like you were jumping ahead in time. Stock suspension. Stock 14" wheels. Faded and dull factory red paint intermingled with spots of primer and black spray paint where the landau top had been removed.
I left work that Friday evening with a plan. I got up early Saturday morning. Very early, 4 A.M. Fired the beast up and headed out. I had no destination. No plans. Just drive. Heading out of southwest Ohio. Drove all morning with no traffic. Not another sole on the road aside from the occasional passerby. Just me and the car and the road. Drove through farmland. Through towns big and small. No highways. The sounds of that engine echoing off of buildings just made me want to go farther. I drove through the morning and mid day. Just driving. Going fast when I could but slow when I should. No distractions. Only stopping for fuel. I wandered all over southern Ohio. Eventually into West Virginia. Never looking at the clock. Never looking at a map. Just the road in front of me. Eventually into Pennsylvania, through Pittsburgh as evening approached. I drove on into the night and eventually decided I should stop to get some sleep. The next town I came to I would get a room. That town was Altoona, PA. Every room in the town was booked due to some big conference in town. Not a single place to sleep. I pulled into the parking lot of a Motel and slept in the car for a couple hours.
I woke many hours before the sun came up. I realized I was a long way from home and needed to get back in time to sleep before work on Monday. I pointed the beast west and put the hammer down. I thundered my way back home with a little more urgency than the previous days meandering. I knew how long it took me to get where I was and I knew I needed to beat that time on the way back. Again it was magical. Just me and the car and the road. No traffic whatsoever. Just driving. It's probably the most blissful experience I've ever had behind the wheel. That V8 screaming. Coming across hilltops, dropping into valleys and through little towns. It was almost euphoric.
I pulled back in front of the house around 8 P.M. that evening. Completely exhausted and my head numb from driving the loudest car ever for probably 36 of the previous 40 hours. But it was truly epic. And almost 20 years later I can still remember that feeling.
I like driving just for the sake of some token experience at the end. In the year I lived in NJ for example, I traveled to the northwestern most point, southeasternmost point, the highest point, and the best diner in the state. I also checked out the end of Long Island, the states through Maine, the Adirondacks in the winter, and the New Canaan Cars and Coffee early on the Sunday morning, heading through most of NY's boroughs before traffic was bad.
LA and its surrounding areas was especially great because pits canyon roads are neverending, and sightings of amazing cars in the environments that they were engineered for is unforgettable. Tailing a 458 with titanium exhaust on a curvy road carved through rock is an unparalleled aural experience. While other parts of the country are certainly well-to-do, LA metro aren't worried about showing their financial status through the cars they drive. The car culture is insane.
Racing doesn't really excite me because I enjoy the journey of driving rather than the outright thrill. Perhaps that's why the Miata is such a perfect car for me. Flip the top back and every drive becomes a bit more exciting without breaking laws.
I love to drive, and just being out on the road brings me satisfaction. But a few moments stand out...
Stopping of at the industrial park on the way to the tire shop in my Miata- to get the last little bit of use out of the old tires.
Years ago my local DSM club did a group photo shoot on Lombard St. In SF. Afterwards, we headed over to Golden Gate park. Somehow, we ended up going through downtown SF. We were stopped at a light, three cars wide at least 10 cars deep. When the light went green, it was like the start of a race, dozens of turbos spooling and blow off valves venting, echoing off the tall buildings that lined the street.
I did my first rallycross in that same Talon. That was a blast and a half, I thought my arms would fall off I was going lock to lock so frequently. The last run I was in the hunt for the lead. The last corner was the toughest, a hairpin with a long straight to the finish. I was losing time bogging coming out of it. On the last run, I threw the car at it as hard as I could, sliding the car pretty much backwards coming in to the corner. I stood on it, all four spinning as the apex cone glided across my front bumper from left to right. I exited the the corner pointed down the straight with a full head of boost, and picked up enough time to tie for first place.
But by far my favorite was one of the early Lemons races at Altamont. This was the race where the rules had not caught up with the cars. Many cars sported push bars and exoskeletons. It was hours on end of an 80 car high speed demo derby. Every corner was a game of chicken, and Grand Turismo turns do work in real life.
Using a John Deere 830 to pull a disc or cultimulcher that is one size bigger than it should be.
If youre not familiar with the 830 it has 470 cubic inch diesel, that displacement comes from TWO CYLINDERS!!!
When you are pulling it fairly hard you use the brakes to keep it in a straight line, because the front tires barely touch the ground, and when you really lug it down there will be about a 12 inch flame streaming out of the muffler. The exhaust sounds like someone pounding the worlds biggest bass drum.
Last weekend, I gave the local fwd circle track series a try. My friends, dad, and wife came out to support me. I had some nerves before the green flag, but in the feature, I passed 9 cars to take the checker! My most satisfying driving event to date! I even got paid $100! :)
Putting the MS3 back together after I blew it up the second time with a turbo swap and more power goodies then taking it out to Highway 2 start to finish early morning on a weekday.
I was the only person going from Phelan to La Canada that day. On the way back I only had 3 cars and a group of sports bikes in front of me. All of which almost immediately gave way.
In retrospect taking a newly turbo swapped car (Literally less than 24 hours after starting it) up Highway 2 probably wasn't such a good idea. But I wasn't the temp tagged BMW M4 driver that ended up backwards, half off the slope, and held up guard rail. So varying degrees of win.
SVreX wrote:
- The smell of diesel makes me horny. 
Please stay away from my truck
Rowing gears in the WRX while listening to the turbo spool up is pretty darn satisfying.
The Datsun on the street is insane. The sound of the immediate 1-2 shift is intoxicating.
That time I took my impala downtown. I did it just to hear it rumble off the buildings. It was not a disappointment
