Skulls and Beer Mugs
09-24-2015, 08:38 AM
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Location: Rock Hill, SC, just south of Charlotte, NC
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Skulls and Beer Mugs
What a glorious, spectacular drive it was, the thousand mile trip home from KC to South Carolina. Weather was just perfect, sunny, not a hint of rain, ran it in two 500 mile days, stayed at a Marriott in Louisville, where had a great dinner and two tall bourbon beers, so slept well. Top open, windows down. Car of course ran perfectly. As my GT3 has a Sharky full "cup" exhaust, which is a bit, say we say, loud, I put earbuds in, and listened to my Ipod's music, Jackie Wilson, the Isley Brothers, the Mick, music I have always thought of as "down shift" music, tunes that just make me want to down shift and romp on the gas.
As we had left the day before from my wife's mom's place in NE, my wife flying home from KC, they wanted me to bring back a box of garden tomatoes, so I put then on the passenger floor. Got to thinking that if I were in some accident, and the tomatoes plastered them selves all over the windshield, anyone running up to help would have expected to find a gruesome scene in the cockpit. Then I would climb out unhurt. Hopefully, at least.
Was nice to finally get to the Land of 93 Octane, leaving the lesser grade behind. I pulled into each new State's welcome center, for a Pit Stop and to pick up new state maps. I felt that I had somehow been in the KY one, then realized that a decade ago I had swapped out a failed alternator there in my Cobra. I always carried two spares plus a starter on any trip, the former at $40 each for a rebuilt 60 amp Ford one. Driving a Cobra, you just never knew....
Ran for awhile along side a "Vette, he had a Vietnam Service license surround, we slowed and wished each other well, and gave one another a grin and a thumb's up. We are both part of the Brotherhood of War, a membership one has to earn, as it is not given away.
Paused for gas and when I bought a bottle of water, noted one of those newspapers on the counter with the pictures of the week's mug shots of arrested folks, and I commented to the guy behind the counter that the row of girl's photos looked like some pretty tuff "ladies." He replied, "hey, we have all had our pictures in that paper at some time." I thought to myself as I walked back to my car "not necessarily." As always, at each stop someone would walk up to our Winged Warrior and ask questions, or ask to take a picture of it.
I drove pretty easy, until I got within my 200 mile AAA tow package, and as I began to climb into the mountains, took out my ear buds, and released the beast, and the sound of my engine bellowing off the trucks to my right and the concrete barrier to my left was simply intoxicating. What a great 50 miles of curves and tunnels, and everybody in front of me promptly pulled over to let me blow by. It wasn't the Tail of the Dragon, but a lot longer.
Karl at RennsportKC who with his tenacious search for my engine's problem found and fixed it, gave me the removed parts, including the replaced #3 piston and liner. The former has a few tiny nicks from the plug electrode; the liner is perfect, with no scoring, and only showing the factory's original crosshatch bore hone pattern.
So I think I will make the piston liner/piston into a beer mug. I can just imagine long ago, how some of Atilla's lads, or a patrolling group of Visigoth chaps would come upon some hamlet, and ask the local HFMIC to come out for a shared drink, and to bring along the local women, and then sharing some brew drank out of a lessor warrior's skull.
Gotta make a memory out of this whole experience. Drinking draft beer out of my piston/liner mug will remind me how fortunate I have been to own our GT3.
All all the best to all of you....
NV
As we had left the day before from my wife's mom's place in NE, my wife flying home from KC, they wanted me to bring back a box of garden tomatoes, so I put then on the passenger floor. Got to thinking that if I were in some accident, and the tomatoes plastered them selves all over the windshield, anyone running up to help would have expected to find a gruesome scene in the cockpit. Then I would climb out unhurt. Hopefully, at least.
Was nice to finally get to the Land of 93 Octane, leaving the lesser grade behind. I pulled into each new State's welcome center, for a Pit Stop and to pick up new state maps. I felt that I had somehow been in the KY one, then realized that a decade ago I had swapped out a failed alternator there in my Cobra. I always carried two spares plus a starter on any trip, the former at $40 each for a rebuilt 60 amp Ford one. Driving a Cobra, you just never knew....
Ran for awhile along side a "Vette, he had a Vietnam Service license surround, we slowed and wished each other well, and gave one another a grin and a thumb's up. We are both part of the Brotherhood of War, a membership one has to earn, as it is not given away.
Paused for gas and when I bought a bottle of water, noted one of those newspapers on the counter with the pictures of the week's mug shots of arrested folks, and I commented to the guy behind the counter that the row of girl's photos looked like some pretty tuff "ladies." He replied, "hey, we have all had our pictures in that paper at some time." I thought to myself as I walked back to my car "not necessarily." As always, at each stop someone would walk up to our Winged Warrior and ask questions, or ask to take a picture of it.
I drove pretty easy, until I got within my 200 mile AAA tow package, and as I began to climb into the mountains, took out my ear buds, and released the beast, and the sound of my engine bellowing off the trucks to my right and the concrete barrier to my left was simply intoxicating. What a great 50 miles of curves and tunnels, and everybody in front of me promptly pulled over to let me blow by. It wasn't the Tail of the Dragon, but a lot longer.
Karl at RennsportKC who with his tenacious search for my engine's problem found and fixed it, gave me the removed parts, including the replaced #3 piston and liner. The former has a few tiny nicks from the plug electrode; the liner is perfect, with no scoring, and only showing the factory's original crosshatch bore hone pattern.
So I think I will make the piston liner/piston into a beer mug. I can just imagine long ago, how some of Atilla's lads, or a patrolling group of Visigoth chaps would come upon some hamlet, and ask the local HFMIC to come out for a shared drink, and to bring along the local women, and then sharing some brew drank out of a lessor warrior's skull.
Gotta make a memory out of this whole experience. Drinking draft beer out of my piston/liner mug will remind me how fortunate I have been to own our GT3.
All all the best to all of you....
NV
