Friday evening, finished up polishing the fins on my Holman Moody valve covers, all spiffy looking, and put them back on with my expensive ($50!) Moroso gaskets. Nothing but the best for the Great Stroker. I had bought this big Baldor buffing system, and had to try it out.
Put my clothes out in the kitchen, so when i got dressed about 0530 Sat Am, wouldn't wake the Wife. Crept out into the garage, ran the door up, scruffed up my Loyal Weimeraner, and shoved the nose of the SPF, and rolled it out under the stars, onto the concrete. I never start it in the garage, the exhaust about makes Abby croak, so i show respect for her, and crank it outside. Put the Flag out, and hopped in, top on because it was mid 40's, latched up, and had no spark, no nuthin'. Of course, had forgotten to turn the master switch back on, i always turn it off whenever i work on my car. Climbed back out, turned it on, crawled back in, spilt my Diet Coke, lost my glasses in the dark recess of the footwell, but eventually,
oil pressure up, lit it off.
Away i went, gassing under the neon of the Exon, and then out on HW 5, a typical rural Upcountry SC road. One that no doubt follows some old indian trading trail, over hill and dale, curving, with the trees right up next to the road. SC has the highest rate of fatalilty in the US, per miles of road, due to all the trees right by your side. Found i was loosing traction in third before i had the secondary's fully open, due to cold tires, cold road, and cold air going down into the cylinders. Soon the aroma of hot Redline wafted into the cockpit, so pulled over on some gravel, dug out the light, and found a small leak on the right side headers, not enough for a fire, so dropped the hood, and continued on.
Took the cutoff thru the Kings Mountain Rev. war battlefield, where the redcoats lost about 225 men to the colonials 25 or so; it was a stunning defeat for the invaders, who were sent running back to Charleston. The winding road, penetrating the the dark forrest, was challenging, even at 40-50 mph, i had to breath on the Wilwoods for many hilly crests, or blind corners. I wondered if this was the woods where Ichabod Crane met the headless horseman, Mr. Crane vanishing forever. As i would, if i went off road into the trees. Many ghosts no doubt still haunt the battlefield's woods.
About an hour later, blasted down the onramp to southbound I-77, and as the dawn seeped thru the trees, saw the shadows leave the occasional roadside low areas. Brought back the memories of my Infantry days, because small units come to full weapons-up alert just prior to dawn, as that is the traditional time for an enemy to attack. I have seen countless misty dawns come to me in my RVN tour, so it brought back vivid thoughts of so long ago.
Pulled into the country club in Spartenburg, where of course i blipped my arrival at the conference to those standing on the veranda sipping hot coffee. Mostly MB's and BMW's in the lot, so of course i had to show lesser cars what a real engine is supposed to sound like.
At noon, walked out, dropped the top, and headed home. Was cool, i had on only a sweater, so it sludged up my marrow a bit, but being a Roadster Driver, i paid it no mind. Cut thru the national battlefield at Kings Mountain again, and this time pulled up by a ranger station, a log cabin, ca. 1770, two story, all handhewn of course, split rail fence, dirt road, so parked my Replica, and shot about four rolls of film, 35mm and 2 1/4. Somehow, a classic car in front of a classic American home is just so fitting. The rangers were impressed. Moved their pickups so i could shoot the best angles.
Continued home, pulled the offending valve cover, and reinstalled it: perhaps i had cought a lip of the gasket or something, no leak afterwards. All in all, a typical SC day, about 200 miles, killed a few bugs on the windscreen, dripped few drops of
oil, paid homage to our American heritage, renewed my tan, and gave Abby a bone when i coasted into the garage.
Can't get any better than having one of these cars in South Carolina, where i can drive it every day.