It’s five days until Beech Bend opens for business. Five days until the first test-and-tune. The first drag racing coverage I shoot in what will be another wild year of action, another round of tracks, of street machines and wicked Pro Mods, of radial cars that act like the wheelstanders of yore and dragsters by the mile while the sun sets behind the red rocks overlooking the western horizon of Las Vegas. Am I ready? Yes. Am I foaming at the mouth? You bet your ass I am. I did exactly zero hard driving during the winter. The Dirty Cougar, the King of the Heap car that is now in the hands of my friend Chris, has been officially retired from “beat to death” status and is entering a build phase. That’s right, the Cougar’s getting built up. That means the only wheel I turned in anger involved the Imperial in a patch of mud that it threatened to get stuck in.

That won’t suffice. Angry Grandpa hasn’t seen the track in a bit. Uncle Tony is planning on bringing the “Bottle Rocket” Coronet up to take some swipes at the tree. And I need to re-energize that core within me that craves triple-digit speeds. I need that energy to finish putting the two Mustangs back together, to getting my wife’s car back on the ground and moving better than ever, and to bring my car back to life, bigger, badder than it ever has been before.

This footage from Urban Hillbilly Videos is the perfect appetite suppressant for one more week of fasting before the gate swings open. The helmet is in the car, and I might have splashed something extra in the fuel tank. I’m ready.