What a fine weekend it was. The SPF "get together" up near Cinn, Ohio, hosted by the upper midwest SPF dealer, the Rosen's, was an event to be cherished. A week ago, when the Wife decided she could not get away to journey to Charleston, i immediately phoned in a reservation, and planned my trip. Got home late last Wed, spent some hours after dark spiffing up the Great Stroker, tossed some jeans and such in the trunk, and backed out of the garage Thursday, about 1400 hours, pointing the proud snout of my faithful SPF South.
You have to go South sometimes to go North, down below the Mason Dixon line. I needed to get over the eastern Rockies before the rains came, not that i worry about rain, but i don't relish the risk of night driving on the mountain roads, with the trucks splashing me, and perhaps squishing me.
Blasted up thru Ashville, then out I 40 to KY, thence north to Cinn, arriving about 8 hours later. Was 517 miles door to door. All top off, putting on an occasional additional layer of warmth, switching out to clear goggles, with ear plugs of course. Trusty Valentine every vigalent on the windscreen. Crawled out of bed for Friday's activities, hindered by rain. Then Sat it dawned with a brilliant American spring day, whereupon all 60-80 cars headed out to play on the astounding back Ohio roads. We all cruised hither and yon, i had no idea which states we were passing thru, and once thought i saw a sign welcoming us to Alabama. I wasn't even sure what time zone we were in.
Partied well into the night with new and old friends, then Sunday teased the Holley Pro to life, warmed up the fluids just a tad, and headed back. As usual, cruised all 28 reststops, sharing my interests with numerous admirers, and as i neared the South, where the exit ramps were more straight, blasting out thru the gears with a thunderous roar, much to the delight of all within earshot, of course only doing this once i cleared the parking area. The roads were packed with countless Bikers, coming back from some event in Tenn. Harley guys love our Replicas.
Entering Tenn, I 75 took a long long dip into a valley, then up to the distant side, only our lanes visible, it was so tempting to make a run for it, but something seemed too good to be true, so i told the pistons to pipe down, and lay low, and when i crested the far top, sure enough, two of Tenn's Finest lit me up at precisely the speed limit, to which i waved, and they returned the salute.
Tired of Heath Bars, i dropped into a station for gas, and got my Cheeto bag and a Diet Coke, and upon heading down the ramp to rejoin traffic, dumped all the Cheeto's in my lap. It is hard to swig Diet Coke, shift, clutch, clear traffic, and avoid such a cheesy mess in the cockpit.
Then, closing on the last 180 miles thru the mountains, i plucked out my earplugs, so i could enjoy all my engine could offer, and bellowed up the mountain roads, downshifting to third gear when i passed other cars, and especially the school busses full of traveling kids. I believe i have about the loudest Replica ever made. Even got a friendly invite from some girls in a Camaro who followed me into a restop in SC. These cars do strange things to folks.
Rolled into the garage, and reviewed the trip. 16 mpg for near 1,200 miles, burned less than a 1/4th quart of
oil, no drips, knocks, or squeaks, and on the Chassis Dynojet at Performance Engineering at the Rosens' shop, cranked out nearly the same power curve as i did 40K miles ago, hp down 10, torque up 10, with their 18% correction giving me 440 Flywheel HP, and 514 # of torque, at the engine. Not bad for a Tuned, stroked Windsor, built for me by Bob Olthoff. With my odometer error, and the months i drove with my odo not working, i figure i have nearly 60,000 miles on this car. It is as tight and muscular as the day i drove it home.
Never had a car this reliable, nor as much pure enjoyment.
Now to let my sunburnt face finish peeling.
Y'all need to drive your cars. Pick a spot on a map, and go there.
1,169 miles and the Cheeto
Linear Mode
