Never the Same IC#15 Fun and Games with the ‘Bird

All signs indicted that the autogods had blessed Kirk’s Firebird.

 

Cue: “I’m in Love with My Car” https://youtu.be/a8EYUKmmnqc

As he did as a matter of routine, Kirk took the usual town tour with his Firebird�"his new love. Heading first slowly through the winding park roads just relishing in the rumbling exhaust tone as he cruised in first gear at 15 miles an hour. Of course, he drove by the shelter which held the infamous picnic table where his lovelorn heart once soared and then months later subsequently crashed over Dee. Not looking back, he pressed on with a couple people taking fleeting glances of Kirk in his real muscle car the ‘Bird. He ended his tour by coasting down the village hill just letting gravity carry the car with its rumbly exhaust echoing off the village canyon reminiscent of years prior with the Blue Bomb and more recently, the pink Baja Bug. This time, however, a couple apparent, or wannabe gearhead boys sat up in the village shelter taking notice of Kirk’s passage in the green Firebird.

There’s a new muscle car in town; gearheads you’d better look out!

Kirk babied his new car baby. He hadn’t really stepped into the accelerator at all, merely going through the gears nice and easy getting used to sound and feel of the car. And not really tinkering, he went over the entire car more than once, tightening bolts, making adjustments, simply looking to see what was what on his car. He read up on everything Pontiac go-fast related. One thing he did was to remove the restrictor that limited the horsepower of his engine. Of course, he couldn’t tell the difference unless he really “opened ‘er up” which he remained hesitant to do. As we know, Kirk wasn’t afraid to use the horsepower of a hot car, but now, this was his car and he treated ‘er different. In those early days, he didn’t even drive the car if rain was forecast.

Kirk bought her a gift�"a tachometer, a necessary gauge to watch the RPMs in a fast car. Based on the Pontiac literature, he set the notorious redline at 6500 RPM. He probably sensed it just driving the car around, but with a tachometer Kirk figured out that the Firebird was geared unusually high. Usually in those days, muscle cars were geared low for quick acceleration like for a drag strip with short, high-rev races. But this revelation meant that Kirk’s car wouldn’t be well suited for standing stop wheel to wheel races, but it would have a heck of a top-end speed. Whatever you do Kirk, don’t rev the engine above that redline!

Kirk learned all he could about Firebirds and Pontiacs of the era. In his perusal of the ‘Bird he found that it had heavy canisters mounted in each of the four inside corners of the fenders. He found out they were affectionally or not so affectionally called “soda-shakers.” They were almost full of a heavy viscous oil that moved with the car’s rolling, accelerating, braking action, and were supposed to stabilize, smooth the motions of the car�"somehow. Kirk had other ideas for these canisters that seemed to do nothing for him and he promptly unbolted them and threw them away. This probably lightened the car by 200 pounds though he’d later have reason to believe that he shouldn’t have removed them. Anyway, in lightening the Firebird, Kirk didn’t stop there. Yanking out the back seat, he eyed the motor and mechanism for the convertible top. Yeah, had to go! Unbolting all that and setting it aside eliminated about 60 pounds. After that, lowering and raising the convertible top would be accomplished by the Armstrong method. Not too much of a problem.

Eventually, Kirk began driving the Firebird to work at the dealership. He still didn’t horse around with the car’s horsepower, stepping down a little between gear shifts but not enough to break the tires lose or exceed the speed limit. Surprising Kirk, Mark asked out of the blue what Kirk had planned to do with his pink Baja Bug. Kirk shrugged as he hadn’t given it much thought before that very moment, in fact. Well, it seemed Mark wanted to buy said Bug. At first, Kirk had an emotional twinge about letting the Bug go, but after giving it a thought while thinking about his ‘Bird, he really didn’t think he’d ever go back to driving the vastly underpowered Bug.

 Oddly, not something a person would normally do, Kirk outlined all the Bug’ faults for Mark. All those things wrong with the Bug such as that it was starting to rust after all those commutes to and from college during the winter, and it had recently started to leak oil. Those things didn’t seem to bother Mark and after hemming and hawing about the Bug’s sale price they settled on the same price as Kirk paid for the ‘Bird’s engine. So basically, he ended up swapping Mark the Bug for the engine. He hated to see the Bug go remembering all the good times he had with his pink Baja Bug: the snowstorm, the fun expert maneuvers in parking lots, and making out with girls in the back, but he felt like moving on with a little, no, a lot more horsepower.  

Eventually, Kirk discovered just how much horsepower his green Firebird possessed and, no doubt, at times he was utterly surprised at the way the car exploded with power. The first couple times he actually stomped on the accelerator; the car just plain scared him. Forget first gear because the horsepower would just melt off the tires. In a rolling start in second gear, the car would slew sideways as the tires broke loose on the asphalt before finding grip. No doubt, Kirk relished the sound and feel of real horsepower. As he gained confidence in the car, he began showcasing his newfound power. A couple times right there on the main street hill, he’d light off the tires making old and young alike turn and look, some impressed, though some obviously irritated.

Over time, Kirk gained a reputation of having a fast car and then, later on, some alleged that he had the fastest car in town. Maybe, maybe not. One day he visited one of his younger gearhead friends, Jake, who liked to hang out with the older gearhead guys whether shooting the breeze or snowmobiling in the wintertime. Jake hadn’t seen the Firebird closeup before, but he had heard “stories.” He wanted to know everything about the ‘Bird, you know, horsepower, handling, what cars Kirk had beaten, and its top end speed to which Kirk didn’t really know. So, after chatting it up for awhile Kirk had to press on. When he backed out on the road, Jake stood there and twirled his finger in the air. Oh yeah, Kirk knew what that meant.

Revving the ‘Bird’s engine up, he let the clutch fly and the tires started smoking, though at first, he hardly moved. Still revving and still smoking the tires, Kirk slammed second gear with not even a gasp between gears. With tires still smoking, he continued down the road picking up speed. He slammed third gear with the tires still were smoking as he rolled down the road. He finally had to slow for the intersection and shut it down. Apparently, it didn’t take long for Jake to spread the word as he was still in high school, and to everyone he knew that “Uncle” Kirk’s car smoked the tires for over a mile, the longest burnout anyone had ever done! Kirk didn’t know if that were true, but it made him feel quite fulfilled when the story came back around for him to hear. About this time, because Kirk thought better of himself and like to show the car off, he stopped in at Dee’s house.

Since their breakup, Kirk had driven by her home several times on purpose, but he had never stopped. At times, Kirk thought he should stop in just to say hello to Dee’s parents because he thought they liked him more than Dee liked him. But he hadn’t stopped, yet.

So, Kirk drove over there and pulled right in the driveway with no fanfare, no revving the loud engine or anything, just coasted in with the crunch of gravel driveway being the loudest announcement of his arrival. Taking his time getting out of the car and going to the door, no one came out to meet him. He knocked on the door and Dee’s younger brother met him there. Kirk said he just stopped by without asking if Dee was home or anything because he still wasn’t over what she had done to him, yet there he was. Anyway, it appeared no one else was home, but the brother noticed the Firebird and told Kirk he had heard that Kirk had a “fast green car.” Well, that was something, Kirk thought. The brother wanted to take a look and perused the car, saying it looked “pretty cool” obviously not being a gearhead. After chatting it up with him for a while Kirk took his leave really wanting to at least see Dee, say a couple words to her�"or did he? His feelings toward her remained muddled. Dee’s brother stood there as Kirk pulled away slowly, then he punched it! The tires spun with screeches and smoke, but then he backed off, gently shifting into second and third to continue driving away sedately and serenely. 

Was Dee actually there? Kirk wondered.

One night, almost midnight, Kirk was cruising down main street in the village where he got the ticket for failing to yield with the Pink Bug. He often went out for drives at night. Sometimes to just drive or maybe walk the mall, go out for a donut, or get a late meal just to stay away from home. He loved the way the headlights lit the road, the way the road slid under the car like the car sat stationary eating up the road, as the Earth moved beneath him. At night, he loved the sound of the car reverberating through the interior. He’d watch the tachometer climb up between shifts its light illuminating his face as he drove. Once in a while he’d get challenged to a street race by some hot head driver in a so-called hot car from Road Runners, Mustangs, Camaros, or even Porsches. He never had an urge to take them up on the challenge because he never wanted to race at night because you’d never know where the police might be hiding at that time of night. That particular night, a car came up behind him rather quickly. By the configuration of the headlights and running lights, Kirk knew it was either a Corvette or a VW Microbus. Oddly, they looked distinctly alike.

Well, Kirk figured it was a Corvette judging by the speed it had gained on him. As it drew closer behind him, the driver flashed his headlights twice and pulled out to pass. Kirk thought, no, not again. He just kept cruising. Coming alongside, the driver tapped his horn and blipped his throttle a couple times, so Kirk looked. Oh! It was old drinking buddy Waylon who he hadn’t seen in some time. His buddy Waylon had someone riding with him. Apparently, as he had heard Waylon’s parents had purchased the Corvette for him as a graduation present, so even though Waylon wouldn’t probably ever admit to it, he was not a gearhead by any means.

 Anyway, being quiet on the street Waylon sped up and slowed down a couple times. Kirk sped up a couple times a well, but he was not going to race on that street. They headed out of town towards a more wide-open country road. The two drivers continued to dink around, one passing the other and then the other would pass but never exceeding the speed limit by much. On a straight section with no cars in sight, Kirk took a breath, downshifted, and nailed it.

The Firebird’s front end lifted with the acceleration as it did; he left Waylon a few car lengths back. Kirk shifted easily into fourth and motored on. He soon saw Waylon had taken a couple moments to recover but caught and passed Kirk going like crazy. Kirk didn’t bite. Dropping back to almost the speed limit, Waylon’s taillights grew smaller as he pulled away and apparently not backing off. A long sweeping bend was up ahead, and when Kirk drew closer saw something off: headlights at a skewed angle partly aiming toward him and shining up into the air. Kirk slowed down identifying the car as Waylon’s ‘Vette.

Apparently, he had lost control on the curve by the looks of the black skid marks and the car’s position. Kirk swerved over to the other side shoulder and pulled up close switching his headlights off. Waylon rolled down the window laughing and exclaiming what a crazy ride he had. No doubt, Waylon had too much to drink. He cracked open the door and the ‘Vette’s interior lights came on.  As Kirk thought Waylon’s passenger happened to be a girl so he bent down to look inside. He discerned slim freckled legs extending from a short green dress before bending over farther to see who the pretty legs belonged to.

Oh, my, God! Kirk thought before saying, “Hey, Farrah!”    

“Hi’ya Kirk!” Farrah said sunnily

Their eyes locked for a split-second. Did Kirk detect a longing in her eyes, her expression, her body language? In another split-second Kirk analyzed her beautiful expression and arrived at an assumed conclusion.  

“Hey Uncle Kirk,” Waylon said, breaking Kirk’s spell. “Got a tow strap? I can’t get ‘er out of this loose dirt.”

“Sure do, I’ll get it,” Kirk said, and retrieved it from his trunk.

Positioning the ‘Bird so it and the ‘Vette were nose to nose, Kirk hooked up the cars. He then slowly backed up until the strap tightened and with hardly any effort, the ‘Vette came out to sit flat on the road.

“Hey thanks, Uncle Kirk,” Waylon said, as Kirk stowed the strap.

Farrah stepped out of the ‘Vette and leaned across its top, looking gorgeous. “Thanks for stopping and helping, Kirk. It was really nice seeing you again.”

Kirk became tongue tied momentarily. “Yeah! You too.”

Even though it was dark, he could see or imagined he saw her sparkling green eyes longing for him. Right then, Kirk’s heart twisted up knowing that his friend had taken Farrah out, and they engaged in whatever else. Kirk didn’t want to think about it�"but he did anyway. He wiped his nose. Waylon sped off with Farrah. On the other hand, Kirk introspective, slowly drove home. Life went on for Kirk and his four-wheeled love.  

Well, Kirk didn’t get to see Dee that time he stopped at her house hoping he could show off his new love seeing Dee apparently never loved him, but that reunion wasn’t meant to be, or maybe she hid in the house not wanting to show her face. Her gorgeously pretty face, Kirk thought. Nevertheless, Kirk let everyone know without coming out and saying it that he was always up to hear any news about Dee whether from Kirk’s little sister who was still in school with Dee or Kirk’s pal who lived up the road from Dee. Other than reiterating the already known fact that Dee had become a massive flirt around the boys, Kirk also found out who apparently was Dee’s main squeeze.

Cue: “Speed” https://youtu.be/rd-0LtV5Axo

Kirk kind of knew the guy from his go karting and other high-dollar pursuits that Kirk detested especially after Dee broke up with him. Dee evidently fit into that guy’s must have category. Come to find out through the “round about” news sources, this guy supposedly had a really fast car. Of course, it was a high-dollar car with all kinds of bolt-on, go-fast parts like quick shifting high-torque automatic transmission, an automatic transmission, Kirk scoffed, high-flow intake manifold, headers, and the number one money-wasting add-on, a quick-change differential.

 Briefly, a quick-change differential as the name articulates allows auto racers to make gear ratio changes on the spot to suit track conditions�"not intended for street use unless you have money to burn. Hearing all this burned Kirk to the core. Cruising through town, the many, many times he did so, he expected this nemesis of sorts to show and the ‘Bird, if you recall, was not geared for drag racing. Kirk thought he’d try to avoid the guy and the possibility of a high-powered run off.

Well, we all know how a small town is and sooner or later you run into someone you don’t want to run into. On a quiet Sunday morning, Kirk cruised along minding his own business. Outside of town, there’s a funky intersection where drivers really don’t know how to act, so Kirk slowed down going straight through the intersection. Coming from the left was that guy in his hot car. Kirk’s heartrate went up a few notches when he saw him, and even higher when the guy turned to go the same direction as Kirk and came up behind. Damn!

Going relatively slow in second gear, Kirk didn’t look but saw the guy approach and pull up alongside the ‘Bird. Kirk still didn’t look. Without thinking, he slammed the transmission into first and floored it. His ‘Bird jumped forward maybe a car length. Moving along already, the RPMs jumped up quickly, so quickly that Kirk thought he made a mistake by downshifting. He heard the guy’s car erupt with an extremely loud engine noise, probably running cutouts besides. Kirk saw his tachometer needle quickly poke the redline, and he slammed second gear.

In his peripheral vision, Kirk saw the guy’s car coming up alongside again. The RPMs hit the redline again and Kirk slammed third just as the two cars went over a small knoll. Up and over, the bird’s tires broke loose causing the engine revs to blip up when the car almost left the ground with its weight unloaded from the suspension momentarily. Neither driver backed off. The guy’s car crept up closer evenly nose to nose, but Kirk stepped a little harder as the ‘Bird came onto its own at the high end of its power curve. The pointed beak of the ’Bird crept forward just a little. Up ahead loomed another intersection and after that raised railroad tracks. Kirk didn’t want to go over the tracks at speed. In a split-second, all at once, he let off the gas, hit the brakes hard, downshifted and turned onto the sideroad. The guy just blasted on by to keep on going. Kirk slowly drove on letting his heartrate go back down.

Why’d I even bite on that race? I acted impulsively. I dreaded that someday a match up race was inevitable with that guy did prove anything?

 After a few moments to calm and consider, Kirk patted the Firebird’s dashboard. Good girl! 

Life went on in Kirk’s relatively boring life peppered with exciting high-speed pursuits on the street. He undoubtedly lived to drive his ‘Bird that had been smiled upon by the auto gods. One Saturday night, Kirk had a brainstorm for the next morning, so the next day he rolled out of bed early just as the sun came up.

Starting up the Firebird, he slowly rumbled out the driveway. Taking it easy to town, there weren’t many cars on the road, just a few families heading to church in their Sunday best. Kirk recalled the forced attendance to church and Sunday School as a child when he tried to sabotage the family car so he didn’t have to go. It never worked. Now that all his siblings had grown up, oddly no one in his family went to church.  Kirk headed out of town with an increasing excitement building in him. Several miles and a few turns found him at the toll booths of the New York Thruway. Only one lane was open, one ticket guy. No other cars, trucks, or police cars. Kirk took the ticket, thanked the guy, clicked down to first, pressed down on the accelerator, and let the clutch fly.

With screeching tires, the Firebird leaped out from the toll booth at full bore. Kirk slammed second heading around the curve of the merge lane. Kirk had learned with time and confidence that he and his ‘Bird could handle curves twice the posted speeds. The curve’s sign read thirty-five, and so Kirk scoffed at it and shifted to third, the speedometer heading up past seventy. Hardly any body roll, no squealing tires, Kirk just leaned his body into the curve and shifted into fourth, and he settled in. It was 8:32. Merging onto the thruway, Kirk eased down on the throttle and watched the speedometer climb to one hundred and then one hundred-ten. The tachometer needle was nowhere near the redline, he had plenty of pedal left, and the engine tone sounded�"happy. The stripes on the center line flickered by and the seams in the highway quickly bumped under the tires: Bump-bump, Bump-bump, Bump-bump. Life looked felt good to Kirk on a sunny Sunday morning.  The sign announcing his destination: a large city. Syracuse east one-hundred twenty-five miles away. He pressed on, Kirk and his ‘Bird.

Always peering out as far as he could see, he wondered if the cops were all off work and attending church instead of trying to catch young speeders like himself going almost twice the limit. Roaring under an overpass, he spotted a local cop car up above heading north. Would they contact the state police and warn them about an incoming green bullet? Kirk didn’t let up. A few cars littered the highway in both directions, and he didn’t have to slow for any of them as they stayed out of his way in the right-hand lane, Kirk in the left. At about fifty miles, Kirk’s eye caught a Corvette driver flashing his high-beam headlights going the other direction. Kirk acknowledged with a single headlight blip, and he slowed down to five above the posted limit. He settled down, relaxing in his seat. Thank you, Corvette driver! A couple miles ahead a police car sat hidden behind some trees in the median. Going past, the policeman looked up, facing his way, but Kirk didn’t wave to him even though he really wanted to!

Straightening back up in his bucket seat, Kirk slowly eased the accelerator down as the speedometer eased up. As he approached the city, Kirk needed to fuel up. He whipped down the off-ramp lane and screeched to a stop along the gas pumps. He jumped out, ran over and paid the attendant. He ran back to the ‘Bird to refuel as fast as he could. He finished, hung the nozzle, jumped back in the car, slammed it in gear and took off burning rubber. A nice pit stop he thought with a smile accelerating down the merge lane hitting the redline with every shift while buckling his seat belt. Soon after that, he spotted the off ramp for the exit he needed to take. Checking the clock, it was 9:45. He was a bit disappointed on how long the trip took.

Cooling his jets, you might say. He rechecked the local map to figure out which way he needed to go to his destination. After a lot of slow driving, turns and mistakes he arrived. He checked the street address on the piece of paper he had a couple addresses written on.  This was the home of Jeff, who, if you read the college days episode, owned and built the hyper-speed Dodge Dart. He pulled in, parked, went up, and knocked on the door. There were no cars in the yard, no noises from inside. He knocked on the door again. No response. A bust. No Jeff. Kirk had hoped to show off the Firebird or maybe, maybe have a run off. He noticed a couple kids on skateboards just down the street. He wandered out there.

“Hey you, on the skateboard,” Kirk shouted, and gestured for the kids to come closer.

With a grind of skateboard wheels, the kid spun around and then stopped a ways away from Kirk.

“Yeah?” The kid showed an attitude of a skateboarder.

“You know these people?” Kirk asked, pointing a thumb.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“You know where they might’ve gone?”

“Probably church, you know, oldsters.”

“How about the guy my age with a fast, dark green Dart?”

“Oh, him with the noisy car. Yeah, I know about him. He’s gone. Don’t live there anymore.”

That took Kirk aback, a bit.

“Oh. Okay thanks, kid.”   

The kid ground and scraped away on his board. Kirk sat in his car for a minute wondering if he should ask if the kid knew where Jeff went. Or wait for the parents? He started his car and backed out of the driveway minding where the kids were at the moment. Kirk decided to give it up, thinking it had been a fun ride but really a fool’s errand because everyone he knew had basically moved on after school. After hitting a Burger King for a Whopper and a shake, Kirk headed home though sticking closer to the speed limit. So, that was the end of the college era and any possible connection with his college mates.

One day at work, Kirk noticed a flyer the parts counter guy posted for a car show and auto parts swap in a couple weeks. In the interim, he happened to run into one of his old school buddies, Mack who he hadn’t seen in quite a while. Mack was one guy who wasn’t completely tied down with life, so they decided to go to the car show that upcoming Sunday. Seeing Kirk had the cooler car to take to a car show they took that. Located in the next country, the show was a moderate road trip off. So much the better for a ride in the Firebird. Mack seemed an instant fan of the car. Kirk appreciated the compliments.

As they cruised along minding their own business, Kirk noticed a Corvette coming up behind them. At the time, they were on Countyline Road, though the rough end, so Kirk had been taking it easy. Countyline, as the name implies, runs in a straight line for quite some distance�"the whole length of the county, he thought. Anyway, the Corvette came up closer behind them and Kirk told Mack, who had to take a look. He guessed it was Jeff’s Corvette.

Jeff, not Kirk’s friend, was known by Kirk’s inner circle as well to do with daddy buying the Corvette for Jeff. Rich fathers buy their boys Corvettes it seems. They knew Jeff had a rather big head who liked to brag about how fast his Corvette was. As far as they knew, it was just a stock Corvette. Anyway, Jeff started dinking around by running up close behind, revving his engine, backing off then racing up close again. Kirk became a bit nervous about the messing around or was he angry? Perhaps both. So, as soon as they drove past the intersection to begin on the smoother section of the highway, Jeff quickly swung out and pulled up beside the ‘Bird. Mack bent forward to look at Jeff. Kirk didn’t look, but Mack told him that Jeff gestured in a prompt to race. Kirk then looked and confirmed the gesture for himself. He silently shrugged with a look to Mack who acted noncommittal. Jeff revved the Corvette up for a car length and then dropped back, over and over. Kirk looked out ahead to the straight road, checked the tachometer, and told Mack to hang on.

 As Jeff dropped back, Kirk shifted down to third and stuffed his foot into the accelerator. The Firebird did the best imitation of its namesake. The engine roared to life, the front lifted with acceleration, and they took off. The Corvette instantly dropped way back until Jeff realized what had happened and did the same. The Corvette began to gain on the ‘Bird. Mack hung on with an anxious yet excited expression. Kirk watched the tach as it crept close to 6500 RPM. He slammed fourth gear and noticed that the speedometer approached 100 MPH. The Corvette began to creep up to the ‘Bird’s rear bumper. Kirk kept his foot to the floor and the ‘Bird kept accelerating. 110, then 120, the numbers stopped there, but the needle went a little farther to hit the pin and bounced there. Kirk still had RPMs to go. The Corvette began dropping back as the Firebird’s front end began floating up and down.  The temperature gauge inched up to the “hot” side. The oil pressure remained on the good high side.

 Beginning to worry, Kirk didn’t like the feeling in the wheel because it felt like he aimed the ‘Bird and not steer it with a very light feel. As the RPMs went past 6000 the Corvette just dropped back; obviously Jeff had given up the pursuit. They approached a very small rise in the road, which came up fast and past. It felt like the car would leave the ground. With a glance, Kirk thought Mack might lose it wearing big eyes and desperately hanging on. Kirk kept going because the road looked level and smooth. But with the continuing porpoising action, the front end bobbing up and down repeatedly until suddenly, shockingly, it just stepped aside. Kirk corrected quickly but carefully just aiming the missile on wheels. Nervous himself, Kirk could see Mack had enough, and he feathered back on the accelerator thinking a fast deceleration wasn’t good for the engine. Within a mile they were down to the speed limit and another mile after that Jeff caught up with them and fell in behind. After a couple moments and a couple miles to calm down, Kirk wondered if taking out those heavy Soda Shakers was such a great idea after all. Maybe they were meant for the front end to stay put at higher speeds.  

Kirk and Mack let out a collaborative breath and settled back into their seats. They pressed on following posted speed limits to the fairground and car show. Following directions, they drove to the available parking on a large lawn area. The show seemed rather well attended. Jeff pulled in right beside them as they disembarked from the ‘Bird. Jeff jumped out of his Corvette acting quite out of breath and excited.

“What the heck do you have in your Firebird? That thing is fast. Faster than anything I’ve ever seen on the street!”

“Just a 400,” Kirk nonchalantly said, as they walked toward the show. Mack just grinned widely to Kirk who nodded.

“Man! When you stepped down on it, I thought it had to be a turbo or supercharged engine. You must have something else going on under the hood than just a 400.”

“Well, I got headers, but that’s it.”

“So how fast did you get up to because I ran out of motor at 130, and you just kept going.”

Kirk shrugged. “My speedometer only goes up to 120, so, I don’t know how fast we got to.”

Mack grinned bigger. “Pretty damn fast�"really fast that’s all I can say. I’ve never been in a car that fast before. It is one awesome Firebird!”

“Yeah, I’m impressed with that beast of yours. Take care. Hey! Nice race,” Jeff said, turning back to Kirk and Mack before he split off.  

Kirk and Mack spent the day perusing the Hot Rods, custom cars, and so-called muscle cars, but Kirk knew the best muscle car sat parked out on the grass. From then on, Kirk knew his calling�"he was a wheelman and his chariot had been blessed by the grace of the auto gods.