
WINDSOR
- FOX TELLS ALL
This
year we decided
early on that we
would vacation in
Washington state
and planned our
travel routes so
that we would end
up at Seattle
International
Raceway for the
Northwest Ford
National Drag
event on June 25th
and 26th.
We
left our home in
Apple Valley,
California and
drove west eleven
miles to State
Highway 395. We
traveled north to
Kennewick,
Washington to
visit a cousin.
After arriving in
Kennewick and then
traveling
throughout the
state, we had
already driven
1800 miles in our
5 liter equipped
'88 Thunderbird
Turbo Coupe in
complete comfort.
Our Turbocoupes
are optioned with
ride control
suspension, air
conditioning,
cruise control,
electric seats,
premium sound
system, full
mufflers and
catalytic
converters and
tail pipes, etc.
When
we arrived at the
track I proceeded
to remove
everything from
the trunk that had
not already been
left at the motel.
After being
completely
awestruck by the
beautiful racing
facility and the
surrounding pine
trees, I started
making
preparations to
compete with the
best competitors
in the area. I
dropped the air
pressure in my
Dunlop 245/50/16
radials from 32
pounds to 15 to
help in the
traction
department. I
added a can of
octane boost just
for insurance to
prevent unwanted
detonation in my
daily driver.
After teching in I
put on my helmet
and pulled into
the staging lanes
feeling a little
nervous about the
likes of the
competition I'd
seen that I would
be racing. After
no burnout; hey,
these tires were brand
new before
starting this
vacation I pulled
up and staged at
this track for the
first time in my
life. I cut a good
light but spun the
tires bad coming
out of the gate to
run a 13.22 at
109.4 MPH. Feeling
somewhat
disappointed, I
pulled back to our
spot in the pits
south of the
staging lanes. I
knew I was going
to have to come
out with less
rpm's and baby
this 3,700 pound
car on those
street tires!
I
decided
to let another
pound of air out
of the rear tires
remembering that
my best previous
runs were with 14
pounds of air on
tap. After about
30 minutes of cool
down time, I
headed back to
give it another
shot;
concentrating on
my 60 foot time.
This time I came
out at 1900 rpm
and the heavy car
launched fairly
well. It pulled
through all the
gears (it's a 5
speed manual car)
and ran 13. 10 at
112.7 MPH.
Satisfied but
realizing that a
car like this
doesn't get any
respect unless it
runs 12's; I
decided to throw
out the mini spare
tire since I had a
full 22 gallons of
gas in the tank
for good measure
anyhow.
I
let the car cool
down for about an
hour and told
myself this next
run I was going to
give it my best
shot. After
letting the clutch
go and dragging
the four wheel
disc brakes nearly
to the staging
beams; I took a
deep breath and
staged shallow and
waited for the
third yellow and
let the clutch go!
It hooked good and
pulled so hard in
the first two
gears, I knew this
had to be my best
run. Sure enough!
I pulled up to the
E.T. ticket booth
and was greeted
with a smile from
a young woman who
handed me my time
slip. "Nice
run," she
said. Well, now a
12.90 at 112.8 MPH
is quite
respectable for
any American
touring car of
this size. And I
have to tell you I
am justifiably
proud of my Ford!!
I
suppose you are
wondering right
now just what kind
of five liter is
this? Well, it's
your basic stock
block, stock cam,
5.0 from a Wrecked
'90, Mustang, with
power steering,
air conditioning
and JBA
unequal length
shorty headers
mated to a factory
stock Mustang
catalytic
converter and Dyno
Max mufflers. I
have iron GT-40
heads worked over
quite a bit,
topped off with a
GT-40 induction
package and 65mm
throttle body. The
SN89 paxton
supercharger that
was on my other
car bolted on to
this mild mannered
little engine with
the help of a 77mm
Pro-M mass air
meter set up for
the 30 lb.
injectors. The MSD
boost retard
allows variations
in pump gas while
driving on the
street and saves
money on octane
boost. This
combination
obviously works
well and brings in
24 miles per
gallon highway
cruise conditions
with 3.73 rear
gears and my world
class T-5 trans
with a .63 5th
gear ratio.
Now
I felt confident
that I had my
launching
technique down but
wished my traction
lock was working
better after
noting my 2.2
second 60 foot
time. This car
would go 12.50's
all day long on
small slicks and a
tightly repacked
traction lock in
the good Northwest
air. After
spending the rest
of the day walking
around, I headed
back to the old
T-Bird to pump up
the tires and pack
everything back in
the big trunk and
head back to the
motel.
After
a good night's
rest, we returned
to the track with
reservation that
the weather would
hold up. There
were more
people on hand
Sunday, probably
due in part to the
jet cars and
monster truck
exhibitions
planned later in
the race schedule.
We unloaded the
trunk and spare
tire and let the
air down n to 14
pounds. I thought
I should make one
run Sunday before
eliminations began
in my bracket
(12.01-14.50). The
T-Bird ran 12.93
at 112 MPH and
while this was
definitely
confidence
inspiring, the
trailered cars
competing in my
bracket gave me
reason for
concern. I let the
car cool
thoroughly with
the hood up in the
74 degree weather,
listening intently
to the PA speaker
to be called to
the staging lanes
for eliminations.
I wasted no time
when the word was
passed and was
about the 5th car
back in the line
up in lane four.
Immediately, a
nice looking
Fairlane with a
big block, C6 and
slicks pulled up
to my left. The
driver got out
donned in a fire
suit and I noticed
the car had a full
cage roll bar,
line lock and one
driver's seat, no
interior;
basically your
full tilt purpose
built trailered
drag car!! I
looked at my wife,
Jeannine and said,
"We're
finished."
After driving
1,800 miles to get
to this point, I
had to draw a
competitor like
this the very
first round! How
could I get so
lucky?! My wife
reminded me we
came to have fun
and suggested that
as far as luck was
concerned, I had
the same chance of
winning.
The
Fairlane hadn't
dialed yet and it
became clear to me
he had been
waiting for me to
dial-in first. I
watched him get in
his car; suddenly
it hit me, he had
purposely picked
me to match up
with due to the
stock looking
appearance of our
plain white car.
Probably the only
inkling that
something worthy
might be under our
hood were Paxton
decals above the
rear tire quarter
panels of the big
touring coupe. I
looked over at the
helmet donned
driver in the
Fairlane and as
his eyes met mine,
I grinned
sheepishly and
looked away. I
never looked at
him again.
Jeannine watched
the wife or
girlfriend of the
Fairlane dial in
and then change
their dial-in
twice before he
reached the bleach
box. The
Fairlane's side
window showed a
dial-in of 12.41
as he brought on
the first
pre-stage light. I
crept our big Ford
up and my
pre-stage light
came on and I
immediately got my
second (staged
light). He staged
and then went the
tree. I was out
and he was right
with me and
slightly pulling
away after the
1,000 foot mark to
beat me. I could
only hope he broke
out, I thought. I
grabbed my time
slip and the girl
put a single dot
on my windshield
and immediately I
knew that somehow
I had won. A quick
check of the
time slip told
the story. The
Fairlane had red
lighted by .06
seconds. Whew!! I
was relieved and
then immediately
ecstatic. The
Fairlane closely
followed me back
to the pits and
drove his
beautiful car
right back on the
trailer. I had
beat him! Maybe I
psyched him out?!
I had won and had
to immediately
return to the
staging lanes for
the next round.
People
came over to our
T-Bird wanting to
find out what I
was running. I
told them a stock
block 302. 1
opened the hood
and people would
just stare, as if
to see something
exotic. After
waiting for some
time, it was
announced over the
PA to clear the
staging lanes for
the exhibition jet
cars. So I pulled
the T-Bird up to
our little pile of
stuff on the
tarmac that marked
our place in the
pits. After all
the hoopla, we
were called back
to the staging
lanes when I drew
a 70's Torino on
slicks. I didn't
have time to check
it out as the line
was moving up
quickly. I
repeated the
earlier burnout
procedure and went
to the line. The
tree flashed and
off I went. The
car pulled good
all the way and it
appeared as though
I just edged the
Torino out at the
1320 ft. mark. I
hoped I hadn't
broken out. I went
to the booth to
get my time slip
and another dot
was put on my
windshield. I did
it again! The car
ran a 13 flat and
110 MPH. I pulled
past the edge of
the bleachers to
hear a small group
of people rooting
for me as I made
the sharp left
hand turn to the
pits. That made me
feel pretty good!
These Washington
people are really
nice, I thought.
By
the time I pulled
up to the front of
the staging lanes,
I was looking over
at a 428 Super
Cobra Jet. With as
much confidence as
I could garner, I
pulled up to the
burnout area. I
heated the tires
up even more than
before and pulled
to the line,
wishing that I
could of had a
chance for some
cool down time.
The lights flashed
and I dropped the
clutch with 1900
rpm showing on the
tach. The T-Bird
leaped out and
then bogged so
hard I thought it
had stalled. The
428
was gone and I
just couldn't
catch him. With a
60 foot time of
2.6 and my
opponent showing a
trap time of two
one/hundredth's
slower than his
dial, I knew it
would have been
all over with
anyhow. Somewhat
disappointed, I
thought about how
I had driven a
street car 1,800
miles to get there
and then simply
let air out of the
rear tires to
compete with some
very formidable
opponents. I had
nothing to be
ashamed of! With
great pride
in my
accomplishments
and perseverance,
I pulled the big
car up to give her
a rest and watch
the remainder of
the racing. I was
damned proud, I
thought!
This story almost sounds like fiction. But I have the time slips to back it up and the memory of the best vacation I've had in many years. I know in my heart that no car competing that day could have done all of the things as well as our T-Bird did overall. When you consider it traveled over 2,900 miles in eleven days on this trip with excellent drivability and mileage; through cats and mufflers, on street tires!! I've never owned a big block, but I'm certainly proud of my little Ford engine. You don't have to have a full blown race car to win and have fun. I feel like my car's a real winner and I drive it nearly every day! The Paxton gives me the best of both worlds, 1960's big block performance, smog legal and without having to stop at every gas station along the way!
This great story
comes to us from
Ed Marsh of
Windsor - Fox
Performance
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