You want a little insight into what really got me to where I am today? You want an idea of the kind of events that molded me into the kind of automotive delinquent that can easily look at a car like that cheap-ass Mercury Cougar and think, “You know what, hell with it, let’s race the sucker!”? Here’s the truth: For a good part of my years of influence (early teenage years) I lived with some rowdy folks. Cars got jumped. Dirt bikes flew with regularity. Ripping donuts in the front yard with the three-wheeler was nothing, and that doesn’t touch on the wild parts, like the night someone’s truck wound up parked on two cars in the front yard because it was somebody’s birthday, or the day a Plymouth backed through a junk car at the top end of Reverse, or the time there we held a demolition derby between a wrecked cop car and what had been the family car up to that point. Readers, I can’t even begin to lie to you…there were days that shit at my house went absolutely unhinged, and it’s probably a good thing nobody recorded any of it.
This footage from the Party at Backdoor, which is part of the King of the Hammers deal, brings back some great memories: a bonfire, good music, folks ready to party, and engines screaming for mercy until either greatness is achieved or something breaks. Save your safety speech…if you don’t want to get hurt, you move your ass. You don’t want to wreck your junk? Don’t play. Everybody here is out having a good time in Johnson Valley and at some time, we need to experience this first-hand.