Never the Same IC#30 Kirk: Feeling Pretty Good

For a change, Kirk felt good about himself because the major factors in his life took a turn for the best.

 

Kirk piloted his hot, loud Firebird down the country roads at breakneck speeds, going twice over the posted limits around curves primarily because he knew that he could without difficulty. Surprisingly, the police never caught him doing it because this was how he usually drove. He made the last turn towards Sarah Elizabeth’s home, but there lay a long straight road extending out before him so he put the hammer down relishing the power and sound of his powerful 400 cubic inch Ram Air IV V-8.

As he neared Sarah’s home, he firmly gripped the stout shifter of the Rock Crusher four-speed transmission. He smoothly downshifted from fourth to third forcing the engine to roar up in RPMs, in moments as the car slowed, he went down to second, and finally, going a little fast for first gear he put steady pressure on the shifter making the first gears sing and whine as they spun up to speed and scrubbed off his forward momentum. After the shifter slipped in firmly, he quickly let the clutch out producing a short, sharp chirp from the tires. Afterall, he didn’t want to arrive at Sarah’s unannounced!

Kirk swerved into Sarah’s driveway, immediately spying her standing against the garage smoking a cigarette looking all the bohemian hippie chick. To Kirk, Sarah appeared as a heaven-sent foxy girl in her bellbottoms and hooded sweatshirt. Barely stopping, Kirk cut the ignition and jumped out of the Firebird slamming the door behind him.

“Hey, just happened to be out here having a smoke when I came over? How fortuitous.” Kirk said, forming a lop-sided smirk.

“Nope,” Sarah said, flaunting a devilish smile of her own. He leaned over and kissed her succulent lips.

“Then what?” Kirk asked, standing up and taking her whole stimulating form in. 

“Oh, I was painting in my bedroom and my father yelled that the TV had fuzzed out. I knew it had to be you. And besides, I sensed you getting closer. I got that ability, you know,” she said, with a smug self-possessed expression.

“So that’s what it is about you. I thought there was something…” Kirk said, with his best mellow smile.

“Taking me for a ride in your hot car?”

“You betcha!” They headed to the car. He paused.  “Shouldn’t you tell your parents that you’re leaving?”

“Nah, they don’t care when and where I go.”

Being a gentleman, a persona Kirk assumed sometimes, he opened and closed the passenger door for Sarah. By the time he got around and in on the driver’s side, Sarah was already sitting on the solid metal center console right next to him just like Farah did. That comparison flittered through Kirk’s thoughts and momentarily bothered him, that is, leaving Farah in an extended lurch.

***

Well, after a hard-fought battle on the stock car track, Kirk passed that old sedan number 039. As you know, that accomplishment was not a major breakthrough for Kirk, but he took it as a step in the right direction as racing goes, and he needed all the boosts to his self-esteem he could gather. The real takeaway from passing another car in the heat of battle on the track was not so much the one, single car pass, but what he found out about his car as a result of that pass. That being revealed, he was able to squeeze just a little more out of his car with just a little tweaking and no cash outlay. It also boosted Kirk’s desire to go faster, push harder, work harder on his car with the possibility of taking down other victims on the track. Best of all, it also boosted his overall opinion of himself not to mention the added effect of that little foxy Sarah who seemed to like him for whatever reason!

His defeat of old 039 had been on Saturday night at Holland Speedway, so the continued trial of going faster still lay ahead on Sunday afternoon at Perry Raceway. All along this early season of racing, Kirk had been bringing up the rear in the heat and consolation races while his brother-in-law Mike had relatively moderate success. Mike had in every case qualified for the feature races in his heat races so wasn’t required to run in the consolation races with Kirk. There wasn’t, for some unknown reason, much sharing between the two guys in the way of go-fast hints, secrets and suggestions. So the pair existed as teammates, more or less, mostly less.

Anyway, besides the frustrating problem of chronic engine oil leaks that seemed inherent in those Dodge engines that Kirk and Mike ran and despite the upgrades Mike had made on his engine didn’t wield Mike the horsepower required to win feature races. Mike occasionally raced to a top five finish but usually ended up with a mid-pack finish around the dozen mark. It went without saying that running those engines wasn’t the best idea when the Chevys and Fords ran so much faster, but Chuck’s sponsorship forced them to stick with what they had to support their sponsor and Dodge dealership. Kirk didn’t like it being an apparent afterthought with the whole sponsorship arrangement, nevertheless he bided his time. Kirk, always eager to see his name in the racing bulletin, found himself hovering in the 25^th spot with Mike up at eleventh. Kirk found himself pleased that he wasn’t last in the overall standings, but as the season rolled on would his position hold, rise or fall?  

The Sunday afternoon races at Perry always seemed to be more of a laid back affair than the high octane atmosphere at Holland.  The track was smaller, the facilities more low-dollar and the pit area less professional. Kirk seemed to like the track for those exact reasons. Even though the haul to the track proved rather long and tedious having to avoid the steep descent and steeper ascent, Kirk thought Sunday afternoons at the track became a sort of relaxing way to race, if that was at all possible. Well, it was undoubtedly better than afternoons at the farmstead after attending church and Sunday School as he had been imposed into during his formative years.

Back at the track, Kirk patiently waited for the Mini and Charger classes to finish racing, he once again mindlessly examined his car. He didn’t have anything to do on it, there were no adjustments that he could think of to make it handle better or go faster. He simply examined it. Kirk had become rather lackadaisical about the races early this season, but now that he beat one single car in a head-to-head and thought with the tweak, he perhaps gained some more power and speed, he could maybe pass even more cars and that felt exciting to him hence the agitated sensation. Perhaps it was because he had finally gained some real enthusiasm about racing.

As usual, Mike his brother-in-law went out in the first heat, Kirk was in the second. He wasn’t sure if they lined them up that way because they were teammates or the difference in performance, that is, speed demons in the first heat, slugs in the second. Kirk preferred it that way anyway whatever the reasoning. Again, Mike qualified for the feature, but he didn’t win his heat as Kirk found out as his heat filed out. Interestingly because of his standings, Kirk figured, he lined up in his heat actually stuck on the inside line with a car beside him and two behind him. Never before had he been shoehorned in between cars like that. Yeah, it put him farther up forward from the start, but it made him nervous reducing his maneuvering room. So as he tried to take down those cars in front of him, he’d have to remain aware that the one car beside him and the two behind were trying to take him down. Yeah, paranoia inducing for a wannabe racer. As always, his heat had one lap warm up which wasn’t enough time for a warm up in reality for tires and engines and the drivers, too.

Winding up on the third turn, they came roaring off the fourth turn with a wave and light of green! Kirk plastered his foot to the floor while he remained laser focused on the yellow car in front of him. He was well aware of the orange car beside him which he determined would not, could not go around him on the outside. Whoa! Kirk cranked into the first turn going faster than ever. The tires didn’t squeal or break loose, but Kirk thought, felt like they just might. He sensed that he drove a real race car even though the increase in speed was subtle. On the straights, the car felt a little more powerful only losing half a car length on the yellow car in front of him so the orange car couldn’t get around him to drop in front of him. He was determined to maintain his position with a wish the yellow car would slip high on the turn so he could go underneath him for the pass.

Another lap and the orange car dropped down and snuck in behind Kirk. He tailed the yellow car like a shadow under broad-day light. The orange car swerved back and forth behind Kirk trying for an opening or maybe psyche Kirk out to lose his nerve and resolve, but with Kirk going high in the straights and ducking down on the corner, he didn’t worry about the orange car. He should have. Focused hard on the yellow car in front of him that he wanted desperately to pass, he missed the orange car driver’s move. Apparently, the orange car stayed a bit high on the turn and slingshot with more speed lower on the straight getting below with his front wheels beside Kirk as they dove into the turn. Kirk had no option but to stay on the higher second groove and let the orange car have the inside groove. Kirk maintained his speed on the higher groove.

Suddenly, he sensed his car rear slip out sideways with oversteer! Kirk chopped the throttle allowing his car to get back into control. The orange car surged ahead of Kirk who dropped further behind.  Another half lap and the checkered waved. His fingers trembling from the near spin, Kirk kicked himself for the loss of his position though still finished ahead of two cars, but adding insult to injury, the yellow and orange cars made the feature, just leaving him out. He’d have to race in the consolation if he wanted a chance at the feature.

Kirk started in third position out of six cars. Par for the course, at least for his class, two cars from the consolation would qualify for the feature. He’d have to pass only one car! Excitedly, he lined up waiting for the gate to open really wanting, craving to run the feature for the first time. Consolation races were very short, only six laps, so it didn’t leave much time to gain positions, but Kirk believed he was up to the challenge. The sting of the loss just minutes prior made Kirk worry about those two cars behind him. He scolded himself for thinking about them behind when he had only one car to take out in front. He didn’t know it until his heat rolled around the first turn that the car sitting on pole position was one of the hot dogs, a gray car, who usually finished in the top three in the features. In the features! Kirk could write off seeing that car once the green flag dropped because he was out classed by that one for sure. With a warm up lap, the green flag dropped and Kirk, with his mind unfocused saw the gray car just walk away from the others ahead of Kirk. Snapping Kirk out came the sound of another race car beside him. Kirk dove hard into the turn with total abandon. Without a sound or warning, his car slipped sideways in massive oversteer worse than in the heat!

Bang! His rear bumper struck the car inching up beside him. Kirk fought the wheel, steering into the turn, maybe a bit late and the car stayed sideways until Kirk let off the gas. The car on the outside was already gone and the two cars behind slipped by him on the inside. With his heart pounding, he lined up for the straight and fed the gas on but not full on as before. He saw the gray leader way out front with another car close behind. Focus! Kirk now stood at fifth place with the last car breathing down his back. The cars that passed him weren’t that far ahead of him, but with another two laps the race would be over and Kirk’s feature quest was kaput. Kirk in his eternal optimism knew he shouldn’t have set his goals as high as a chance at the feature. For him the weekend was effectively over, but he then grasped that he must tweak the suspension now that his car was a little bit faster. Suddenly, Kirk thought of the car as his at this point.

Back in the pits, Kirk decided to check out his suspension. On four corners, stock cars use shock absorbers that have the piston shaft exposed opposed to covered in a metal tube like on passenger vehicles. With the shaft exposed, there is a rubber grommet that can be slid up and down on the shaft. Kirk always knew what these were for on stock cars but never paid any attention to them on his car since he started racing. In operation, what you do is shove the grommet all the way down before a race and then afterwards you can see how much each corner of the suspension has traveled during the race. Kirk kicked himself for not presetting the grommets before any of the races so he could have maybe tweaked his suspension accordingly.

Basically in the dark and starting from zero, he saw that both right hand suspension grommets had moved quite a bit more than the left side meaning that the car wasn’t riding flat going around the track. Should he trust and act on that observation without consciously presetting the grommets? If he made major adjustments based on what he thought the grommets indicated, he could make the car handle even worse. Handling worse could mean a crash into the wall if he tried to push, push and go fast. It’s something he’d have to think about so he moseyed over to pick up his vinegar fries, a racing program, and watch the races. When he sat down the first thing he had to do was to see his name in print. Sure enough there he was now at 21^st place in his class. He smirked to himself thinking that he’ll be in the top ten before he knew it. Maybe by the mid-season championships? Oh yeah, right; he better start winning some races and not just finishing them!

***

 

Meanwhile, away from the track, Kirk had come to a solution to his quandary over his van’s paint job, that is, how to hide that metal etching from the old advertising sign. Having primered the entire van, then hitting it in spots with putty to fill minor imperfections, and lightly, oh so lightly sanding those spots, he thought that enough work had been spent on body work. For one evening with a pile of newspaper and a roll of three-quarter inch masking tape in hand, he set about to mask off the glass and lights. What little chrome trim that had been on the van Kirk had removed and filled the holes. He was all ready for step one in his vision of a paint job for his “Keep on Truckin’” van.

With a garden hose, Kirk wet the floor of the garage to settle the dust. In that offending upper panel of the van, he took a sticky tack cloth and carefully worked front to back to make sure all dust had been removed. With a pint of bright red he had recently purchased, he mixed the paint with thinner, ran it through a filter, rechecked the ratio with a stir stick, and he poured it into the sprayer canister. He clamped down the gun attachment, plugged the air hose in, and he set to the job.

Here and there on the offending panels on both sides of the van, he sprayed various sized and shaped patches of red roughly the size of basketballs. He wasn’t picky about the sizes or locations, but they were only on the upper panel with a little overspray along the edges of the panel. Dumping away the little red paint left over, he cleaned the spray gun with thinner and mixed up some bright blue. Where he hadn’t painted the red, Kirk now painted blue so the entire offending panel was covered with haphazardly placed blotches of red and blue completely covering the primer.

Standing back and taking it in, Kirk experienced a real sense of pride in his peculiar paint work. By implementing an innovative solution to cover the etchings, he thought no one else would paint such a strange pattern. But what the heck was he doing? 

Was Kirk’ van actually going to spell out “Keep on Truckin’” in red and blue?  Whatever he was doing would leave him never the same.