Thread: Hot Rod storys post them here

John, I wish I could have lived back then!!!

Almost ALL of my hot rodding stories that involve the cops end with me picking my car up out of the impound yard!!

Where I grew up in Oregon we had HWY138, Stevens Blvd, and Douglas County Blvd.. the hwy was the best place to race, because it left the city limits and it was nice and straight.. our two Blvd's were mostly for cruzin' and hanging out- but the occasional light to light race happened from time to time. I would take my uncles 39 master deluxe, or at the time my dads 56 dodge pickup(now mine) out and have good times almost every weekend. I never really raced much, because I had only a hardship license- but that didnt stop me from wearing out rear tires!!! Especailly in my uncles '39- he had a '62 409/4-speed in it and it would get sideways without much effort up to 4th gear!!

About the time I turned legal age to get my actual license I moved to Texas! I got a job at a grocery store and within a couple of months bought me a '66 mustang(289/3spd). After a couple more paychecks I had it running like it was supposed too, and road worthy enough to pass inspection! so I started kruzin' up and down the two main drags looking for people! found out that on Fridays almost every car club in the area meets at thier favorite car wash- and their are WAY too many car washes in this city!! out of ALL of them there are only 4 that are into muscle cars, old cars, and rats- so I started hanging with the mustang club first, but way to many problems came with it, so i changed over to the hot rod scene! after a couple years and about 8 cars, I finally found my true calling in the RatRod scene- didnt have to make it look good, just had to make it function, and make it RUN!! here I was trying to keep my stuff shiny, instead of improving what I had!!! it is all history from there- and that does it for my hot rod story!! ~

ratORbust. It sounds like you had good time at it also.

Well back in about 1972 I was living in west denver. and at the time I bought a 65 plymouth from a close friend for $500.00. It was a factory 426 wedge, 4 speed, single 4 barrel. fast enough but never had it all. There was a gas station down on Evans blvd that a bunch of gearhead guys hung out late at night, and worked on there cars. One in particular was a 65 chevy malibu that I knew was running a 427 and was bad to the bone fast. everytime I drove by the owner of the chevy would just stare at my plymouth. I knew sooner or later it was gonna happen and I also knew that my 426 wedge engine would not be up to the task. My little brother was also a gear head who drove at the time a bad little 56 chevy 2 door wagon with a built small block engine of mine in it. He had a knack for building engines, I had a late 60s high compression 440 that we had been working on for the plymouth ready to go in. The problem was we built it in our parents basement and it took my brother, me, and two of my friends to get it up the back stairs. LESSON LEARNED Any way we finally got the new engine in the plymouth along with a hemi 4 speed, a narowed 8 3/4 chrysler rear housing, mark williams axles, 456 gears, and big sticky tires. It ran great. I think I was ready for the malibu at this point and had hopes of actually beating him. One night I was heading out east to 39th to hook up with my little brother and to do a little drag racing or at least watch, I was rolling down Evans blvd just going past the gearhead gas station when I saw the malibu roll out and pull along side me. He stabbed the throttle just enough to give me the inclination that this was the time. Both of us slowed to a crawl and in doing so shifted down to the next lower gear until we were both in 1st gear, nodded to each other and stabbed the throttle.

I need to dig up some pics and tell y'all bout this one time @ band camp.. I mean back in East Texas... .

Great Idea for a thread John... Keep the tales a comin...

Well back to the story. You know the sound when you are gearing down, and each lower gear you go into gives off that whine from the syncros in the transmission. I don't know how but both of us hit 1st gear about the same time and it was on. Now I like the sound of screaming small blocks, but when the roar of 2 big block behemoths are side by side there is nothing like it for raw noise. All the way through 1st gear we were even fender to fender. I shifted into 2nd and jumped out in front, then he shifted and jumped me. 3rd gear same thing, 4th gear same thing. We were on a stretch of road that took us past a few warehouses, and then past a strip club, then down a hill towards Broadway. We must have run them for a half mile, but when it was all over and we were stopped at Broadway. Both of us were shaking. He said he never had a mopar run with him that tight, and I replied that I didn't think his chevy could keep up. We called it a draw and never raced again, but became good friends.

I continued out east to 39th for a little late night racing, but I didn't race again until later on the way home against my little brother.

[QUOTE=rastus;1024]I need to dig up some pics and tell y'all bout this one time @ band camp.

AMERICAN PIE. Do tell. What kind of instrument was it? At band camp.

Great Idea for a thread John... Keep the tales a comin...
Will do. And post up what ya got everone. I like late night reading.

I did write an article for Good Guys magazine back in september 2011 under the collumn of Rojer Jetters (Banging the gears,)
It was titled The Curtis Marauders and was about my summer of 1970 on the streets of Colo, Before the plymouth. If ya get a chance to find and read it let me know what ya think.
Later on, I might rewrite it for here.
John

It was a great time out at 39th, My little brother must have raced a 1/2 dozen times and scored on about 5 of them. His 56 chevy wagon was a fast little car for the times most all the parts on it came from a 55 chevy that I owned, but a drunk one late evening in the summer of 1970 decided to destroy by rear ending me. The engine was a built 283 punched out to a 292 and cammed up to high rev like a 302 z 28 engine., 4 speed, 8 3/4 chrysler rear housing with 513 gears. and some nice street slicks, at least that is what we called them. On launches he would drop the rear bumper on the passenger side almost to the ground but the front tires never left the ground. Great weight transfer. Well anyway the police came out to 39th and shut us down fairly early so we headed to downtown denver to cruise 15th and 16th the loop., but it was late enough that all the action was pretty mellow. Well we left downtown and headed down broadway towards evans blvd heading home, but that little sucker wouldn't leave me alone so we got into it a couple of times, me in my plymouth, and him in his 56 wagon. Nothing to spectacular just having fun. We finally made it to evans blvd turned west, crossed the railroad tracks, and was next to the strip club when we both geared down to a crawl. The little sucker kept up with me for awhile, but his gears were to large and he started to run out of steam and I took the lead. Headlight coming from the other direction? And just as we they passed us we saw the red light come on, it was an unmarked denver cruiser and he spun around. My little brother had lost his licence for guess what? and he was not gonna get caught again. I slowed down to accept my punishment, but my brother stabbed the throttle and was running. The cruiser pulled up behind me and I slowly pulled up to the next turn and slowly pulled over to give my brother enough time to get away. There were 2 officers in the car, one jumped out and the other went on to chase my brother.

The last I saw of my little brother he was heading west on evans, drove through a closed gas station to avoid a sharp corner, then headed south, to a street called zuni, and was out of site before I even pulled over. The cop took out after him, but it was no contest he knew the back roads and was driving like a seasoned stock car driver. After a short time the cruiser showed back up, and the officer had a dissapointed look on his face and proceeded to tell me if he had caught the other guy we would have both been charged with drag racing. I guess the luck of the little bit of Irish I have in me took over, and they let me go with a warning again. I asked my brother later about his trip home. He said that he was under full throttle all the way up zuni, and figured the safest place was in our back yard. But when he turned on our street he spun out, but somehow ended up heading the right direction. He was now heading west on our street towards our house, he then shot through the neighbors yard, and driveway and into our back yard, he had a cover put over the car just as the cruiser went by.
We toned it down after that, and kinda figured they would be looking out for us.