We cover a lot of racing events throughout the year. We see a lot of combinations that all work out beautifully. We see nitrous cars that take a dentist office’s monthly supply and turn it into that mid-run charge up the tachometer for the hope of making the next round. We see turbocharger cars that enter so quiet and make their noise at the top end, when they trip the beams while fighting to keep the front wheels down. And Lord, do we love a good blower car. If the nitrous guy is the crafty sneak and the turbo guy is the quiet type that carries a big solution to a problem, the blower cars are the full-on showpiece: loud entrance, loud piping, brutal from start to end. You can’t knock any of them, they all have their charms and faults.
But, a strange thing: we see these truly monster machines nearly every weekend throughout the year, so why is it that when something like a fairly quiet, naturally-aspirated car like this rubber-bumper Camaro that J. Malcom shot comes along, we go absolutely berserk? Everything about this white second-gen says “street car” right up until that first launch, as the driver hangs onto a very tail-happy Camaro that is digging and clawing for what traction it can find. And as the day wears on, the suspension gets tuned, the tire pressures get dialed in and the launches become cleaner, straighter, and repeatable.
Is it just us, or do you get that same kind of feeling?
You\’re not alone, that\’s a great car! My car is very similar and I get a ton of people saying they love that it looks stock and sounds quiet but runs low 10\’s. I\’m not gonna make it LOOK any faster but I am building a bigger motor!
What kind of hillbilly track let’s so many people stand by the starting line? Scary stuff.