By the time I was a Senior in High School, I had helped build, crewed and done hammer mechanic duty on local circle trackers stuff since the sixth grade. I had the racing bug BAD and I WAS going to build a car. In my mind I thought I knew enough to be a NASCAR Crew Chief but in truth, I didn't know squat. That summer I bought a car that was the victim of the wall. It had an engine that only had three races on it and a nice cage. Someone gave me a Chevelle frame and another sold me a very straight 66 Chevelle body. To get to the point, I bought parts I didn't need and traded away parts I did need. In other words, I did EVERYTHING you SHOULD'NT do. I did build a car--Chevelle------with drum brakes, crappy welding, S-L-O-W steering and rock hard tires. How I got it through inspection I don't know. Maybe the guys just wanted to see me bust my A--.
First night! As I backed the car off the trailer the front was just about to touch the ramps and the trailer ball broke on the tow truck. The neck shot straight up and the car hit the ground and when the neck came back down the rear of the trailer wiped out the bottom of the radiator. One of the guys I used to help loaned me a radiator. I went out on the track to roll it in with all the other cars. I learned real quick this car would go every way but straight. I thought the roll in was over and pulled in, put on a helmet, cinched up my surplus belts and hit the track. I thought I was burning up the track. The car wanted to go everywhere, It steered heavy and my arms were starting to feel like hamburger meat. I was so proud of myself for putting on such a show and then I heard something to my right. It was the track champ in his Camaro with the big L-88 427 thumping in my ear. I was huffing and puffing and my arms were killing me but I thought I won't let him get by, I'll blow his doors off. Thats when I saw it-------------He was on the top lip, shoulder harness dangling out the window, no helmet, left arm rested on the door and his other hand draped over the steering wheel like he was driving to town to buy a box of snuff. And he was PASSING me! He was still rolling the track in. I wanted to sink into the floor boards. I drove straight to the pits, climbed out, grabbed a wrench and got UNDER the car. Talk about feeling like your an inch tall. Thats pretty much how my first night went ALL night. The only thing I didn't hit that night was the wrecker but it did bring me back to the pits------twice. It was a good education but boy was the tuition high.