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SidiousV · 04-12-2001, 08:36 AM

For those of you who know me, you may have read some of my 'stang races on other sites. This is probably my favorite. Anyways, I'd like to say hello to all ya'll *** kickin' Mustang enthusiasts.

When driving the 5.0, I'm less on the lookout for a 4N to stomp than I am nostalgic muscle. This shouldn't be taken as an insult, however, as I also own a '68 Buick GS-350 that makes about 425 horses. Still, it ain't the same as the 5 oh. The 5 oh has attitude, and if you haven't noticed, everyone on the road wants to run one. It's just the way it is. Wether or not you want to admit it (Even though you do everytime you write about a 5.0 race, ha ha!), the 5 oh is the benchmark by which all modern day street performance is benchmarked. Obviously, and even the guys driving '70 SS 396 Camaros think so. Let me show you.

During my lunch hour I decided to head up to Northridge Mall on the north side of Milwaukee. Looking down the road, I noted what appeared to be an orange, second generation Camaro with the fattest meats I've ever seen stickin' out the wheel wells of a car. I mean, the wheels looked like the bottom of a steam-roller, and I was pondering asking him to come smooth my driveway later in the afternoon. So I step on the gas to catch up to him on the off ramp from 76th. The ramp turns into a two laner, so I edged up beside him in hopes of getting a run on Brown Deer Rd. While sitting at the light, I listened to what sounded like a pretty healthy powerplant and a cam with some pretty good duration. I looked at the fender emblems and saw SS/396. Now I'm thinkin', "Oh $hit." Yeah, my 5.0 is pretty stout (engine bored, balanced, blueprinted, 500 lift cam, polished and ported heads, MSD-6AL ignition, full exhaust, intake, etc.), but the Camaro sounds much better than it would stock. A stock 70 Camaro SS/396 - 375 turns mid 13's. Not stock, who knows!

So we make the turn and the guy guns it a little bit. His front end gives a little lift, but I'm dauntless. I look at the driver and he snears at me. From the looks of him he works at the quicky lube and likes to pick the left nostril of his nose which is ringed with oil. Nasty. Yeah, we're gonna' do this. I give him my wry "I'm gonna smoke you cuz that's what dicks in 5.0s do" look as I rev and let him listen to my 2.5" flowmasters. I know I'm mid-low 12's. Let's see what the Big Block Chevy's got with his big A$$ED hillbilly meats and "Grabber" puke orange paint.

We're both watching the adjacent lights go yellow, and the revving begins. We're both thundering away and a surreal echo seems to resonate beneath the bridge behind. Two real preformance cars about to duke it out. I look at the codger in the Olds Delta 88 behind me, and he shakes his head. Suddenly the Camaro lurches forward a little bit before the green. He's break standing! Dude must be sitting on an Automatic with either no or a real small stall converter! That helps.

The green comes and tires are shrieking as we launch. I get a good little holeshot because dude gets a little over excited and stomps it way too hard. Before shifting I check the rearview and anything that was behind us is covered in a white plume of smoke. Damn, musta' sucked to be the guy sittin' back there in his Olds Delta 88, ha ha! My eyes shift to the tach and I'm at 6300 when I pop second, maybe a fraction of a moment after his shift kit pops the next gear. I've had about 3/4's of a car lead with my hole shot, and I'm thinkin' that's all I'm gonna' get. I know the 5.0 probably won't hold the top-end charge of a big block, but if I can keep him up to 85, I can probably take him to the next light! He must be runnin'pretty short gears, because his trans nails it again with a good little squelch way before I'm ready to rip 3rd. I grab a little more lead by his tranny, and run it up over my red-line when I nail third and put 306 inches back in the midst of the best of my powerband. He begins a hard charge and makes up what seems to be inches a second. I see his front bumper slightly edging up my door! Phucker! I can hold this. I'm looking on as we're flying by the shopping mall, and I'm stunned by what I see before my eyes.....

Some old bat has decided to creep her Buick LeSabre across the road at like 2MPH! She begins making her way into my lane and I slam the breaks screaming "PHAAAACK!" Mr Quicky Lube keeps on the gas and just barely escapes getting clipped by the A$$ of my car sliding to the inside of the lane, the nose of my car looking at the curb. I skid, get off the break and straighten out, then put the nose of the car into the ground with the breaks again! I watch the SS jerk to the left to get out of the way of Gramma'. The Camaro bounces its left tires off the curb and comes down! Dude's head musta' hit the roof! He goes by the Buick with only inches to spare inches as gramma stops in the middle of the road. I guess she realized something bad was about to happen.

A cloud of smoke seems to surround us, whooshing over the back of my car with the wind. There's nothing but silence, and the pounding of my heart. When it clears, the Camaro guy is gone, and the old lady is shaking her finger at me. I'm plastered in my seat, and have to pry my fingers from the wheel. Damn, that sucked.
I probably could have taken that dude to the next light. I had the lead and a pretty good hold. Oh well. I'm just hopin' that phuck didn't count me as a win. HA! This is the stupid $hit that goes through a street racer's mind when I shoulda' been thinkin' about almost offing myself and someone's mom.

I threw it in reverse, backed up a bit, drove around Gramma, and back to work.

After that, lunch really didn't feel like it would settle too well.

------------------
"Humans define their reality through misery and suffering..."
How's clever workin' out for ya'?

04-12-2001, 08:36 AM	#1
SidiousV Registered Member Join Date: Apr 2001 Location: Milwaukee, WI, USA Posts: 7	FiveOh Convertible runs Big Block Camaro For those of you who know me, you may have read some of my 'stang races on other sites. This is probably my favorite. Anyways, I'd like to say hello to all ya'll *** kickin' Mustang enthusiasts. When driving the 5.0, I'm less on the lookout for a 4N to stomp than I am nostalgic muscle. This shouldn't be taken as an insult, however, as I also own a '68 Buick GS-350 that makes about 425 horses. Still, it ain't the same as the 5 oh. The 5 oh has attitude, and if you haven't noticed, everyone on the road wants to run one. It's just the way it is. Wether or not you want to admit it (Even though you do everytime you write about a 5.0 race, ha ha!), the 5 oh is the benchmark by which all modern day street performance is benchmarked. Obviously, and even the guys driving '70 SS 396 Camaros think so. Let me show you. During my lunch hour I decided to head up to Northridge Mall on the north side of Milwaukee. Looking down the road, I noted what appeared to be an orange, second generation Camaro with the fattest meats I've ever seen stickin' out the wheel wells of a car. I mean, the wheels looked like the bottom of a steam-roller, and I was pondering asking him to come smooth my driveway later in the afternoon. So I step on the gas to catch up to him on the off ramp from 76th. The ramp turns into a two laner, so I edged up beside him in hopes of getting a run on Brown Deer Rd. While sitting at the light, I listened to what sounded like a pretty healthy powerplant and a cam with some pretty good duration. I looked at the fender emblems and saw SS/396. Now I'm thinkin', "Oh $hit." Yeah, my 5.0 is pretty stout (engine bored, balanced, blueprinted, 500 lift cam, polished and ported heads, MSD-6AL ignition, full exhaust, intake, etc.), but the Camaro sounds much better than it would stock. A stock 70 Camaro SS/396 - 375 turns mid 13's. Not stock, who knows! So we make the turn and the guy guns it a little bit. His front end gives a little lift, but I'm dauntless. I look at the driver and he snears at me. From the looks of him he works at the quicky lube and likes to pick the left nostril of his nose which is ringed with oil. Nasty. Yeah, we're gonna' do this. I give him my wry "I'm gonna smoke you cuz that's what dicks in 5.0s do" look as I rev and let him listen to my 2.5" flowmasters. I know I'm mid-low 12's. Let's see what the Big Block Chevy's got with his big A$$ED hillbilly meats and "Grabber" puke orange paint. We're both watching the adjacent lights go yellow, and the revving begins. We're both thundering away and a surreal echo seems to resonate beneath the bridge behind. Two real preformance cars about to duke it out. I look at the codger in the Olds Delta 88 behind me, and he shakes his head. Suddenly the Camaro lurches forward a little bit before the green. He's break standing! Dude must be sitting on an Automatic with either no or a real small stall converter! That helps. The green comes and tires are shrieking as we launch. I get a good little holeshot because dude gets a little over excited and stomps it way too hard. Before shifting I check the rearview and anything that was behind us is covered in a white plume of smoke. Damn, musta' sucked to be the guy sittin' back there in his Olds Delta 88, ha ha! My eyes shift to the tach and I'm at 6300 when I pop second, maybe a fraction of a moment after his shift kit pops the next gear. I've had about 3/4's of a car lead with my hole shot, and I'm thinkin' that's all I'm gonna' get. I know the 5.0 probably won't hold the top-end charge of a big block, but if I can keep him up to 85, I can probably take him to the next light! He must be runnin'pretty short gears, because his trans nails it again with a good little squelch way before I'm ready to rip 3rd. I grab a little more lead by his tranny, and run it up over my red-line when I nail third and put 306 inches back in the midst of the best of my powerband. He begins a hard charge and makes up what seems to be inches a second. I see his front bumper slightly edging up my door! Phucker! I can hold this. I'm looking on as we're flying by the shopping mall, and I'm stunned by what I see before my eyes..... Some old bat has decided to creep her Buick LeSabre across the road at like 2MPH! She begins making her way into my lane and I slam the breaks screaming "PHAAAACK!" Mr Quicky Lube keeps on the gas and just barely escapes getting clipped by the A$$ of my car sliding to the inside of the lane, the nose of my car looking at the curb. I skid, get off the break and straighten out, then put the nose of the car into the ground with the breaks again! I watch the SS jerk to the left to get out of the way of Gramma'. The Camaro bounces its left tires off the curb and comes down! Dude's head musta' hit the roof! He goes by the Buick with only inches to spare inches as gramma stops in the middle of the road. I guess she realized something bad was about to happen. A cloud of smoke seems to surround us, whooshing over the back of my car with the wind. There's nothing but silence, and the pounding of my heart. When it clears, the Camaro guy is gone, and the old lady is shaking her finger at me. I'm plastered in my seat, and have to pry my fingers from the wheel. Damn, that sucked. I probably could have taken that dude to the next light. I had the lead and a pretty good hold. Oh well. I'm just hopin' that phuck didn't count me as a win. HA! This is the stupid $hit that goes through a street racer's mind when I shoulda' been thinkin' about almost offing myself and someone's mom. I threw it in reverse, backed up a bit, drove around Gramma, and back to work. After that, lunch really didn't feel like it would settle too well. ------------------ "Humans define their reality through misery and suffering..." How's clever workin' out for ya'?