Today uncountable Gs definitely brought a smile to my face, a spring to my step.
Organized crime (private sector) movies taught us to use Gs when referring to thousand-dollar bits. A hundred Gs is $100,000 in that parlance. I am abusing the pun here.
My semi-retired Honda CRX race car was scowling at me from under its coat of dust. We hadn’t flexed our muscles in a very long time and the rapidly approaching winter threatened to add another 6 months to that streak. Heck, world events could add “forever” to it.
Today I was harrumphing my way around the estate mulling over my impossibly long list of pre-winter chores when the CRX suggested we do something JUST FOR THE JOY OF IT.
It was a compelling suggestion.
Our favorite workout is the 33 miles between me and Idaho plus the next dozen miles on the Idaho side of the Lost Trail Pass. Somewhat more accurately, the really twisty parts about seven miles each side of the pass.
I’m guessing I have spent around 65 years as a G-Force-Junkie pushing 4-wheeled vehicles to limits nobody else in my circles was able or willing to do. Drag racing along with top-speed runs hold no allure to me, but cornering … ah, yes, that is real driving, poetry in motion, man-machine ballet, real joy, total focus, complete escape from the trivial, mundane of everyday life.
Safety? The unsafe drivers who bash each other or barely miss doing so by happenstance are in that realm through inattention. High-G drivers are IN THE MOMENT. The driving environment is everything. My driving record with over 57 accident-free years driving max-chat, as often as not, attest to that.
On a related note, those who would ENFORCE arbitrary limits on my speed are seen by me as quickly as they see me. I make immediate adjustments so as to neither disturb them nor attract their unwanted attention. It is kind-of a mutual respect system. I don’t challenge their realm and with extraordinary regularity, they stay out of mine.
They changed the rules to add an electronic component to their enforcement and I went along with them thanks to Valentine One.
I could not have pulled my crashless record off were I lackadaisical about the process, allowing my mind to wander all over the world. I doubt you could find a more scientific, attentive, methodical driver.
However, as logic might suggest, those suggested cornering speed signs marking various curves are just fine for motorhomes, station wagons and 3/4-ton pickups with half-asleep drivers, but have no applicability for aging race car jockeys piloting aging race cars.
Well, other than amusement that they are low by at least 50%.
The video clips above are the best I have, but the horribly blemished windshield, defective muffler and older generation performance tires have all been upgraded since.
Today’s autumn run added the additional challenge of adjusting for corners where the sun had not dried them out. As almost any driver would know, wet pavement does not provide as much adhesion as dry.
Great fun.
Many smiles per mile.
Not a single bobble along the way.
In my younger days I used to say, “You cannot find 10/10ths of the man-machine potential without occasionally going 11/10ths.” Today I figure I have served my time on the far side and can use my knowledge, experience, and FEEL to run 100% without having to go over.