The early morning light streaming through the blinds gets my attention. My first thought, as usual, is - is it dry? I listen for wet tires on the roads but it's too early for a weekend morning. I sneak out of bed, turn off the alarm, see that a beautiful dry day is dawning and slip into the garage. I put on my Simpsons (so my size 13s don't span all the pedals, open the garage door and slide into our favorite thing.
I leave my feet away from the throttle and turn the ignition. The mighty starter cranks and I watch as the oil pressure builds. As it hits 75 I gently stroke the throttle a few times and the Cat barks to life.
Selecting reverse we slide into the early morning sky. I hit the remote to close the garage and return the house to its sleeping women and children. We gently roll out of the neighborhood, barely on the throttle, just about idling in 2nd, careful to avoid setting off all those alarms.
As I reach the edge of the quietness of the 'hood, the temp is coming up and I put a little more into the pedal as I head towards the expressway. I reach around and grab the shoulder belts, loosening them so I can get a good fit around my lap before I tighten the two straps. I lock the lap belts and head towards the on-ramps. Within a few seconds an almost empty road opens and I mash the throttle for a few seconds. It wiggles then grabs asphalt as I hit 2nd and again going into 3rd, at which point I'm quickly catching up to the early morning traffic. It's Saturday - where are all these people going?
I check my mirrors, flick the turn signal and rely on an experienced gut to guide me through those massive bind spots as I weave through the traffic - temperature falling quickly as I build up speed. The wind pours over me and as the dreaded stupid grin disease takes effect, I pay strict attention as the many trucks and weekend family getaway vans go from distant targets to quick solo cones.
All the gauges are perfect, tons of oil pressure 6,000 in 4th and into 5th like butter - the front air dam gulping air into my new fluidyne rad as I glance at my "hardly a rearview" mirror trying to catch a glimpse of anything that looks like smokey between the air cleaner and the rear wing. I slow as I approach each crest in the road, tucking behind anything bigger than me, then hammer it coming down a highway empty of radar. Life is good.
Eventually I slow for the exit where I know I'll find 94 octane (not always an easy thing to get) and gently rumble into the quiet station. A few sleepy attendants come and gawk and ask the usual questions, peering thru my open rear windows as I carefully fill - never sure how empty of full it really is. By the dumb questions they are asking, I decide not to bother to raise the rear hood and give them the heart-stopping view of the monster that lurks behind our heads - something I usually do with barely the slightest provocation. I add a bottle of STP octane booster - obtaining another massive point - then carefully press in the tank cap 'till it locks.
Back on the road I feather the thottle and get hard on it through a long right handed circular overpass - waiting for sounds of starvation that never come, enjoying my almost 10 qt oil pan). As the road straightens out I slow behind some swoopy looking BMW. Aah yes, an M Coupé. He instantly gets on it and so I lie in wait behind him until his heart is beating overtime. I glance in the mirrors then pull out. I can almost hear his heart sinking as his engine strains to keep up. I grab another gear and keeping my foot down for 5 or 6 seconds, leave him a distant memory.
I head home in the ever increasing traffic. I get clear shot for a few seconds here and there but life is slowing. I decide to glide past my usual exit and take next one where I have had many a great experience. I roll away from traffic and blast into the exit lane and up the off-ramp where it splits into two. I slide my right foot over to press the brake as I blip the throttle and shift into second getting as far to the right of the approaching left handed hairpin. I turn in and as the apex approaches quickly, I feather the throttle then hammer it as I, oops correct thru the end of the corner, watching out for those curbs that have more than once left their mark on my wheels. I break the silence of the neighborhood as I accelerate up through the long straight then brake hard, turn left again and find myself back in the sleeping world. With the stupid grin glued to my face I gently rumble home carefully avoiding construction debris, potholes and sewer drains until I slowly slide back into my driveway.
I decide to leave the Cat outside to cool off rather than heat up my nicely AC'd garage. I unsnap the belts, open the garage door and go inside. I look behind me and see this incredible beast staring back at me. Unable to avoid it, I reach for the camera and take these pictures, bathed in a dull, overcast early sky. I shoot her as she sits - dirty, dusty and hot from the ride,
Did I mention how much I love this car?
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