Our Midnight Cruise (long)
02-23-2002, 02:16 PM
#1
Melting Slicks
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Location: Green Cove Springs FL
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Our Midnight Cruise (long)
I was debating whether to post this or not because I don't know how you guys will react, but I decided to go ahead and do it. Hope you enjoy!
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I added some woolite into the washing machine to finish up my Friday evening laundry routine. It’s going to rain tomorrow and I haven’t driven my Vette all week. We had fun at the track last Saturday despite a couple of problems, but she’s been sitting under her cover since the day after. “The rain is going to take the weekend out of my weekend car”, I thought to myself once stepping back into the house. Anxiety was setting in so I began thinking of excuses. I got the keys and headed out the door: I was on a mission for hair shampoo.
The night was crisp, calm, and quiet. The glow of the sidewalk lampposts is just enough light to see without overpowering your vision. I began to uncover her front left fender, and instantly I was in awe. Hurriedly I undressed her and stepped back at “that angle”. It was if I were a seven year-old boy admiring my favorite Vette at the car show. But everyone was asleep, and it was just my Vette and I tonight.
I opened the door and the glow from the overhead illuminated through the glass t-tops. It was a sight that stirred my thoughts of cruising down the back roads with the tops down and the blue-sky overhead. The wind would blow hurry by my ears, while the paint was glimmering, and mellow exhaust was my music. With a huge grin on my face, I caught myself staring at my Vette and those good feelings stayed with me as I sat in my doeskin leather. I lifted my special Corvette key chain (no normal keys will ever grace this key chain), picked the square key and slid it into the ignition. With a couple of pumps of the gas pedal and the clutch to the floor, I turned the key and lit up the calm, quiet night with a swift kick in the pants. She was idling rough, but holding onto it tonight.
As I turned around from closing the gate, her two bright eyes and shark jaws were staring at me. Tuning the carb, the new transmission, the rear end, the rims, the tires, the glass and all of the other wants for my Vette were shoved to the side: I was getting some hair shampoo and that was my mission tonight.
The dim illumines cense of the gauges said that everything is running great. By this time she was idling like clockwork and ready to cruise. The heater was on, my window was down, and I began my midnight run. It was just the solitude of the road, me, and my Vette.
I must have driven these roads hundreds of times, but they were new to me now. The streetlights had a new glow reflecting on my paint, the traffic signs looked new in the reflection of my headlights, and the road looked freshly paved. It felt surreal while looking over the bulging fenders of my C3. Climbing the short ascent of a bridge opened up a view of the St. Johns River with the lights of the docked boats on the right and the dark, flat horizon just ahead.
Ten miles-per-hour under and a few minutes later, I was approaching my destination. I looked over my left shoulder and saw the midnight shoppers scurrying about in the parking lot filled with SUVs, minivans, and sedans. My Vette and I didn’t belong there, we were the music to the quiet night, the red rocket to the crisp night air, and we were the “night” in “midnight”.
We continued on and made a u-turn after crossing another bridge. I rolled my window up while dropping the passenger window down. The bridge had a high concrete barrier running adjacent to the outside lane and I wanted to hear her sing. When cruising reverb wasn’t enough, I put the clutch in and got a higher note. I’ve never heard a reverb so good before, so I put the clutch in again and mashed it wide open. She sang like a thoroughbred muscle car ready to blow the doors off of any who should tempt her.
But it was only a few short minutes to home once on the back road. The dark canopy of trees swiftly passed overhead while cruising down the dark, two-lane road. Cruising 10 miles per hour under, I was still trying to prolong my trip in fear of it ending. I’ve taken the scenic route and my sense of smell soon knew too well why the road was nicknamed the “dairy road”. The canopy of tress opened up to a sky filled with reddish clouds while the grassy fields of the dairy farm lay on each side of the road. I began to remember just a few short months earlier when I took my life-long best friend for a ride; he seems to be more infatuated with my Vette than I am. We were out to have some fun doing a good burnout, which was something he’s never done before. Along a different stretch of two-lane road with dairy farm on each side, we were at a dead stop. “You ready?” I asked him while gripping the leather shift ****. When he nodded his head, I revved the motor and popped the clutch. I’ve only done a burnout one time before this, but the Vette was screaming and begging for more. I looked over at my best friend mid-burnout and he made a child-like “vvrrooommm!!!” sound grinning ear-to-ear. I let off the gas a little bit and took off through the gears and shut down at a safe speed. We just looked at each other and laughed.
The inevitable happened as I pulled into the driveway. As I opened the gate, rain began to fall gently around me. Raindrops beaded and shimmied on the body while the mellow exhaust filled the air with beautiful tones. She’s 21 years old but she felt new tonight; Duntov would have been proud of the machine that she has become.
The mental wish list appeared again as I was putting her back into her spot and it’s up to me to build on what the previous owners have done. But this time the wish list didn’t bother me at all. You see, it’s going to rain tomorrow and I’m still going to make the best of the time I have. Like the rainy day, my Vette isn’t perfect but we had a great midnight cruise tonight.
My Vette and I have a lot in common, and somewhere in between I’m living.
--------------------------------------------------------
I added some woolite into the washing machine to finish up my Friday evening laundry routine. It’s going to rain tomorrow and I haven’t driven my Vette all week. We had fun at the track last Saturday despite a couple of problems, but she’s been sitting under her cover since the day after. “The rain is going to take the weekend out of my weekend car”, I thought to myself once stepping back into the house. Anxiety was setting in so I began thinking of excuses. I got the keys and headed out the door: I was on a mission for hair shampoo.
The night was crisp, calm, and quiet. The glow of the sidewalk lampposts is just enough light to see without overpowering your vision. I began to uncover her front left fender, and instantly I was in awe. Hurriedly I undressed her and stepped back at “that angle”. It was if I were a seven year-old boy admiring my favorite Vette at the car show. But everyone was asleep, and it was just my Vette and I tonight.
I opened the door and the glow from the overhead illuminated through the glass t-tops. It was a sight that stirred my thoughts of cruising down the back roads with the tops down and the blue-sky overhead. The wind would blow hurry by my ears, while the paint was glimmering, and mellow exhaust was my music. With a huge grin on my face, I caught myself staring at my Vette and those good feelings stayed with me as I sat in my doeskin leather. I lifted my special Corvette key chain (no normal keys will ever grace this key chain), picked the square key and slid it into the ignition. With a couple of pumps of the gas pedal and the clutch to the floor, I turned the key and lit up the calm, quiet night with a swift kick in the pants. She was idling rough, but holding onto it tonight.
As I turned around from closing the gate, her two bright eyes and shark jaws were staring at me. Tuning the carb, the new transmission, the rear end, the rims, the tires, the glass and all of the other wants for my Vette were shoved to the side: I was getting some hair shampoo and that was my mission tonight.
The dim illumines cense of the gauges said that everything is running great. By this time she was idling like clockwork and ready to cruise. The heater was on, my window was down, and I began my midnight run. It was just the solitude of the road, me, and my Vette.
I must have driven these roads hundreds of times, but they were new to me now. The streetlights had a new glow reflecting on my paint, the traffic signs looked new in the reflection of my headlights, and the road looked freshly paved. It felt surreal while looking over the bulging fenders of my C3. Climbing the short ascent of a bridge opened up a view of the St. Johns River with the lights of the docked boats on the right and the dark, flat horizon just ahead.
Ten miles-per-hour under and a few minutes later, I was approaching my destination. I looked over my left shoulder and saw the midnight shoppers scurrying about in the parking lot filled with SUVs, minivans, and sedans. My Vette and I didn’t belong there, we were the music to the quiet night, the red rocket to the crisp night air, and we were the “night” in “midnight”.
We continued on and made a u-turn after crossing another bridge. I rolled my window up while dropping the passenger window down. The bridge had a high concrete barrier running adjacent to the outside lane and I wanted to hear her sing. When cruising reverb wasn’t enough, I put the clutch in and got a higher note. I’ve never heard a reverb so good before, so I put the clutch in again and mashed it wide open. She sang like a thoroughbred muscle car ready to blow the doors off of any who should tempt her.
But it was only a few short minutes to home once on the back road. The dark canopy of trees swiftly passed overhead while cruising down the dark, two-lane road. Cruising 10 miles per hour under, I was still trying to prolong my trip in fear of it ending. I’ve taken the scenic route and my sense of smell soon knew too well why the road was nicknamed the “dairy road”. The canopy of tress opened up to a sky filled with reddish clouds while the grassy fields of the dairy farm lay on each side of the road. I began to remember just a few short months earlier when I took my life-long best friend for a ride; he seems to be more infatuated with my Vette than I am. We were out to have some fun doing a good burnout, which was something he’s never done before. Along a different stretch of two-lane road with dairy farm on each side, we were at a dead stop. “You ready?” I asked him while gripping the leather shift ****. When he nodded his head, I revved the motor and popped the clutch. I’ve only done a burnout one time before this, but the Vette was screaming and begging for more. I looked over at my best friend mid-burnout and he made a child-like “vvrrooommm!!!” sound grinning ear-to-ear. I let off the gas a little bit and took off through the gears and shut down at a safe speed. We just looked at each other and laughed.
The inevitable happened as I pulled into the driveway. As I opened the gate, rain began to fall gently around me. Raindrops beaded and shimmied on the body while the mellow exhaust filled the air with beautiful tones. She’s 21 years old but she felt new tonight; Duntov would have been proud of the machine that she has become.
The mental wish list appeared again as I was putting her back into her spot and it’s up to me to build on what the previous owners have done. But this time the wish list didn’t bother me at all. You see, it’s going to rain tomorrow and I’m still going to make the best of the time I have. Like the rainy day, my Vette isn’t perfect but we had a great midnight cruise tonight.
My Vette and I have a lot in common, and somewhere in between I’m living.
02-23-2002, 06:43 PM
#3
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Re: Our Midnight Cruise (FroDaddy)
Wow, that was a great story. By the way , could you let me know what your taking , because it seems very euphoric. :D :D :D :D :D
