___ Mopar Max Magazine ___ Volume V, Issue 7 - July 2010
___ Mopar Max Magazine ___ Volume V, Issue 7 - July 2010
___ Mopar Max Magazine ___ Volume V, Issue 7 - July 2010
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<strong>Volume</strong> V, <strong>Issue</strong> 7 <strong>July</strong> 6, <strong>2010</strong><br />
Hang on St. Christopher….or riding on the short bus<br />
om always said a fast car was trouble and she’s right. The adrenaline rush of a torquey big block is addictive and<br />
the urge to use it doesn’t always rear it’s head at the best of times. When I bought my old yellow Satellite back in<br />
1994 it was the fastest thing I had ever driven and I had just turned 30 years old. I didn’t use my teen years to get<br />
my fast car yaya’s out or get into trouble––nope, that all started at age 30. The following is a list of anectdotes from my<br />
stupidest moments behind the wheel. I will point out that the car has a certain magical luck it about that kept me and my<br />
passengers in one piece. Whenever these sort of things happened it was because I was showing off, pissed off, buzzed, or<br />
just plain being dumb…short bus.<br />
Back in the spring of 1995 I was still happily married and very much into taking little cruises all over the peninsula, back<br />
and forth over the mountains then up and down the coast. A favorite road at the time was Alpine Road. Alpine is a twisty<br />
one and a half laner with poor pavement, steep grades, and amazing views. On a beautiful day with all the windows down,<br />
my wife, our dog Sullivan, and I were cruising Alpine from Skyline to Route 1. I had just put 14X6 Magnum 500’s on the car<br />
and she felt so sure with her new rubber and wider rims. I was going too fast but staying in control and really having fun<br />
when a nasty downhill S-curve showed up.<br />
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The bad pavement had the car yawing, and combined with our speed<br />
and the 4-wheel drum brakes I wound up momentarily locking a rear wheel, then fishtailing from one<br />
side of the narrow road to the other. The car was waaaayyy loose. Embankment on the left, pretty<br />
steep drop off on the right. We went right. With every ounce of my strength on the brakes we slid off<br />
the road and then abruptly stopped, pointed downward at approximately 60 degrees.<br />
The dog was out of the car in a flash and sitting up by the road. I looked over at Krista, asked her if<br />
she was all right and had her go out the window very slowly and carefully. I set the e-brake, put the<br />
stalled car into park and then gingerly let my foot off the brake. The car didn’t move so I went out the<br />
window to join my frightened little family up on the road. The car was pointed so steeply downward<br />
that the rear bumper was nearly at eye level.<br />
So, what kept us from taking the wild ride all the way down??? The k-frame hung up on a culvert<br />
sticking out of the hillside. About 20 minutes later a car went by and took Krista up to Skyline and<br />
over to 84 to use a pay phone and call in a tow truck. About two hours later we were driving home,<br />
scared but in one piece. Damage: Ego bruised and a bent k-frame.<br />
Not too long after that incident I got a sure-grip for the car and promptly learned to spin donuts. My<br />
god! Who would have thought that such an idiotic manuever could be so fun! I loved it and back in<br />
those days the Mission district was still pretty industrial with an abandoned feel and I left black circles<br />
all over the place…I am sure cementing my reputation as a pure dumb-ass in the process. Anyway, I<br />
was cruising with my friend Thalo and I decided to show off my donut spinning skills. Yeeee-haw! We<br />
spun and spun like there was a giant stake in the middle of the car until I got the crazy notion that I<br />
was good enough at it to just flip the wheel and spin the other way. Nope. Car got violently out of<br />
shape and went straight for a fire hydrant. With all four locked up we smacked the curb inches away<br />
from the hydrant. Damage: mangled self esteem, bent strut rod.<br />
One day, I was enjoying a new horsepower increase after installing a 750 Holley. As a sales pitch to<br />
my friend Bob, that he too, should install such a carburetor on his ride, I was punching the Satellite all<br />
over Soma like a hesher on PCP. Screeeeee, woooo hoooo! Nothing like a stoplight burnout to scare<br />
the brand new .com wunderkind that were beginning to flood the town. As we headed downtown the<br />
traffic thickened but I was on it, deftly (so I thought) steering the car at 40 plus through the thickets.<br />
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