Back In The Day.

Yes that's me "Back in The Day!!! Larger photo.

I decided to dedicate a page here for the old timers out there. When racing was a week end party of racing and having a good time. Back when there were few rules and the bigger and badder the engine the better chance you had of winning, and just bendin a few fenders in was no big deal. If someone wanted to make a big deal of it you just settled it "head to head", or over a few beers after the race. After all the next race was a week off and most times all is forgotten after the race, and it's on to the next week.

I grew up with gas and oil in my blood, and the rumble of a hi performance engine was like a cool country song. I started building my first car when I was around twelve years old, a 1949 Ford flat head V8 engine with three on the tree.

I painted it bright red with flames and pin stripes, done by yours truly. That was the in thing back then, seems to be coming back around again.

Many were the nights someone would come tappin' on my window and say someone's in town looking for a run and they think they can beat you, so up I'd get and off to the races again. It was pretty much known that I had the car to beat, and that just didn't happen, after all "back in the day" you had a reputation to stand up to and gettin' beat just didn't cut it.

After street racin' for a few years there just wasn't many cars left to beat so I started building my '56 Chevy up as a "D" gasser and run all the local drag strips, with a few Saturday night runs on the back roads. But things were changin' and as I started getting a little older I had to get more serious so I started working at the local Chevrolet Dealership and doing "shed" work on the side.

Around our town if you wanted something done on a car, me or one of my crowd would make it happen. Go to Jack and get a "Super tune" turned into get a "Cooper tune" as I mastered cams,carbs,heads in about any combination you would need.

As much as I loved it, and I still have fond memories of those days, things were about to change in a big way and my back road racin' would just become a foggy memory as for the next few years the thumpety thump of a good sounding cam became the whomp, whomp of Huey Helicopter blades flying over rice paddies.

But never fear when all was done in Sams Army, I discovered a new kind of racin' that would get in my blood even stronger than before.

"Asphalt and Dirt"...........
Dirt Trackin