The speed bug…when it bites, it bites hard and you always remember the first time it happens. You remember it and you compare it to everything else that comes along later. You remember notable moments, periods in time where your body registers that you’re at a new level of tolerance, but that first hit is something to behold. I got my first taste out of the way when I was just five. Prior to, “fast” for me was riding from the top of the Windsor Avenue hill to the right-hand ramp of the driveway into the grass where I could safely crash into the juniper bushes with minimal worry of injury. Then came along my cousin Vance and his hopped up 1973 Chrysler Newport. After letting me tag along on a ride down to 7Eleven for some treats (and, in hindsight, probably a whole heaping of munchies to help his night go along just fine), he forgot that the pain-in-the-ass little cousin was in the car and proceeded to boot the big C-body up the hill past Portal Park, hitting triple digits before I started whooping in the backseat. He then freaked out…right up until I begged him to go fast again.
Over the years, many other incidents stand out: 120 mph in a lifted Ramcharger, six guys in a 1967 Valiant understeering the Burley-Olalla curves at valve float, combat takeoff in a C-130H, and more, but that first blast that shoved me deep into the seat…that was magic. Five years old, still not completely inundated with the gearhead curse, but I knew that I loved hauling ass. How old were you?
Not quite 10 years old. My older brother buys a brand new ’64 426 Max Wedge.
It was MaryAnn, the coat room, in 1960…
Whoa, now. That’s a subject for another day!
It was the noise of a powerful V8 that got me hooked as a kid. Back in the early 70’s, my neighbor had a 1963 1/2 427 Galaxie. Father and son sometimes would have a burnout contest in front of there house at night! I would listen by the window and the sound was heaven. I was amazed none of the other neighbors ever called the cops when they did these burnouts. Guess they all liked the music too !
1965 in Thousand Oaks, CA. 7 years old stuffed between my dad and his friend that had a 1929 Ford P/U with 4-71 blown 265 Chevy. Never forgot it!
6 or 7 years old. My brother had a ’62 Impala SS convertible. 283 4-speed, jacked up as high as it could go..
Seen that Duster on the video at Drag Week 2017 at Gateway Motorsports Park as well as Gateway Classic Cars. It is one well built Duster.
1970, I was 14. Friend’s sister’s boyfriend had just got a 1970 454 4spd corvette. Asked me if I wanted a ride. He took me for a RIDE ! Was a car fan anyway but that really set the hook.
I think I was 6 or 7. The car was my dad’s 1970, 4 door Caprice. LS-5 454, TH400, 3.73 12 bolt, Rallye wheels, blue, w/white vinyl top. Optioned out to the moon. Aside from the 454 badges on the fenders, it was a factory sleeper. Put me into the seats a couple times or more. I was heart-broken when he sold it and pissed to hear that the guy he sold it to had an argument with an immvoveable object with the car, and off to the crusher it went. Hope the mill still lives somewhere.
1968 or so. Had been hanging around a garage / service station in the neighborhood for several years. Lots of high performance cars there, a round
track car, and various and sundry fast street cars. A guy installed headers on
his big block 66 Chevelle. Of course, it had to be “tried out” with the new
headers uncorked, and I was invited to sit shotgun. Big block Chevy, 4 speed,
open headers, I like near pissed my pants. I still grin when I think about it.
I was like 12 or so.
That girl is hooked. She’s going to be a racer.
I was six and was in my cousin’s 1933 Ford coupe with a highly modified flathead. He go into a race with a boy in a 40 Ford coupe. Feeling myself being pushed back into the seat was a feeling like I’d never had before. My cousin lost because he blew the engine but I was hooked.
1969, I’m 13, my brother-in-law is 23 or 24. He built a hot 327 and stuffed it into a primer black ’57 Chevy 2 door, two bucket seats up front , no back seat, no interior with a 4 speed and 4:11 gear. Took me for a ride with open headers. Going through all four gears , wide open throttle. The sound of the high winding small block and the feeling of acceleration was unbelievable! Been a gear head ever since.
1974, I was 11 years old. My brother built a wrecked 1972 240Z that he found while working at an auto body shop in Denver. He wound up putting a SBC 283 in it he found cheap elsewhere, along with a 4 speed trans. Damn, that thing was quick..
7 years old in my cousin’s husbands 1966 Chevelle SS396, in 1969. Modified 396/4-speed. Jacked-up high in the back, Torque-Thrust Ds, rear of the hood shimmed up for cowl induction. I was hooked……
My Dad was a true 60’s hot rodder and his 61 Starliner 390 w/ three deuces and a manual trans was the first hot car I remember. I was about 5..