I wrote up a long article on my adventures to, at, and from Memphis Motorsport Park, but it's still at work and I'm home on vacation, so I'll do it over:

I changed the Mazda radiator out for the original Maverick radiator, which required some new brackets and removal of some of the underhood braces. The car *still* ran 200+. The radiator was damned near clogged, and it would take three days to get a new one or a new core, and I had two days before I had to leave. Screw it, I could bring plenty of water just in case.

Ron managed to come through with the trailer, and even with a license plate for it. Then I hooked it up to the Bel Air. The mondo heavy duty hitch sagged about four inches before the bumper moved. Mondo heavy duty hitch was a piece of shit. No time to get it fixed. Screw it, I have plates and insurance, and a buddy who owns a wrecker business, if it comes down to that. TRX's shakedown run was to work Thursday, a 50 mile round trip. I got a cellular phone at lunch, but lunch was at 4 in the afternoon - by the time I found out the phone didn't work they were closed.

Coming back from work the car began to surge badly. It also started to rain. I pulled it into the shop and went to bed, got up at 5 AM, and started tracing the fuel system. The fuel filter back at the tank was clogged, among other things. I replaced it, blew the lines out with air, bled the brakes, packed the wheel bearings, wired up the tach, and a dozen other things, then got into the shower by 10. I'd already called the cellular people as soon as they opened. They called back finally and walked me through programming the phone. They'd given me the wrong phone. Still didn't work. I called again, they said they had to set some stuff up at their end. I loaded the car, gassed up, and rolled out of town at 11 AM. Damned phone still didn't work. 45 minute drive to the cellular office, was waiting in the lobby when they finally did whatever they had to do, and it started working. Jumped back in the car and rolled out of Little Rock at 12:04 Friday.

3.91 gears and 13" tires suck. Cruised all the way to Memphis at 4000 RPM, over in the right lane, with traffic zooming by on the left. Got to Jay's, unloaded, and we drove across town to get the cars teched.

The PCA inspector was dubious. The car was obviously not finished. My fancy billet bracketry and bellcrank on the throttle linkage was fine, but the piece of wire connecting the bellcrank to the carb got a frown. He worked the linkage several times. I had rod ends and tubing at home, but had had no time to finish. He called some others over. They turn turns working the linkage. Finally emptied the accelerator pump well. Finally decided he would pass it if I'd run the wire differently. No problem. He affixed a red sticker to the windshield to show it had passed tech, walked away, and then came back almost at a trot. "That's not a rotary!"

"No, that's a small block Ford."

His face went through many expressions in a couple of seconds, culminating in something equivalent to, "Oh shit, and I just cleared this thing through tech."

"I've been on the track before, and I'm not going to get crazy - it's a long way back to Little Rock," I told him. He was only partially reassured. "Don't worry, I don't drive like him," I said, pointing at Jay. The tech guy looked a little less distressed. Jay looked irritated. The PCA guys all know Jay is a red-haze type. Not a good character reference for a newbie.

Saturday morning, classroom stuff. First spin on the track after lunch. This is a PCA driver's school and this is the first time I've run with them, so I have to go through the class and get an instructor through the whole two day event, which is fine by me. Kathy Atkinson strapped herself into the passenger seat and we idled up to the staging line. "This thing is geared real short, so I'll have to point traffic around on the straight," I said. "Also, I just put a small block Ford in, and I've driven it to work once, then out from Little Rock, so I have absolutely no idea how it will behave on the track. And we're running on four different brands of Treadwear 400 tires, but they all have lots of tread." Kathy didn't say anything, just slid her seat forward so she could brace against the firewall. The flagger waved the car in front of us off. "Uh, I used to autocross, and I know I have a bad stab and steer problem." She wedged one knee against the console and the other against the door. The flagger waved us off.

Zoop! Leap onto the track and head for the Carrousel. Looked down at the tach. 6200 RPM. Hmm. Maybe a little excessive for 145,000 mile stock valve springs. Backed off to 5500, then let up to enter the Carrousel at about 4000, maybe 65 mph. With the noise and helmets it's hard to communicate, particularly since I have about 20% hearing in the right ear. Turns out Kathy has a problem on the left. She winds up using hand signals to point out the line and braking zones. When we get to the front straight I guide right, slow down, and point cars around while we put our helmets together for discussion.

We made two laps and the fuel problem started again, cutting and surging. At the end of four the car loses power. I think to look down at the temp guage, taped to the console by the shifter. Pegged. We turn in the pit lane and roll to a stop, steam fountaining.

"Is that it for the day?" Kathy asked.

"No, it'll be OK once it cools down. We'll probably only get two or three laps per session, though.

"That's too bad. You're not nearly as bad as you made it sound."

After the car cooled a bit we drove back to the parking area, then rode shotgun with Kathy in her run group. Novice group eventually came back up, and we got two laps before the guage pegged. Same on the third run. I believe she thought I was braking too late, but she didn't say anything. At least, that's my theory after finding the passenger side carpet ripped loose from the screws under the sill plate and console, and shoved forward on the firewall.

Jay offered his Corvette for the last session. What the hell. Kathy and I strapped in and were first in line at the flag station. No problem, I thought. I have a fair amount of time on this track, in this car, autocrossing. The flagger waved us off and we're off, zoom, full bore launch onto the course, over to the left near the guard rail, brake, let the ABS drop us down to 80mph, ride up high on the banked turn, then turn right, floor it, and dive down the bank to the apex, 3/4 of the way around. Grass on the inside, grass on the outside, still floored, curb on the inside, whomp the ABS, into the Ms, using the new line Kathy showed me, back straight, ABS before the Nineties, through Grant's Tomb and back onto the dragstrip, the Carrousel shimmering in the distance, 3/4 mile away. Not a bad car for a Chevy. Kathy leans over. "You might slow down a bit."

Duh. "Sorry about that. The only time I ever drive this car is at autocrosses, and you only get one shot." I let off some more and we ambled down the straight and into the Carrousel at a much lower speed than before. Kathy is happy with my performance in the Carrousel, but she thinks there's lots of room for improvement in the Ms. I'm having more trouble hearing her in the Corvette since it's a convertible, and we're traveling *much* slower than before. I'm not paying attention to my driving as we coast through Turn 3. We're only doing 50 or 60, but the entrance to the Ms is more like 30, and even though the Miracle of ABS could take care of the speed, it can't do anything about the fact that I'm on the wrong frigging side of the road. I nail the brakes and let the ABS suck off some velocity. Hell, we *might* make it. I actually started to turn right before it hit me. There's *traffic* back there, and it's probably closing fast, because we've been dawdling along on the fast spots. I straightened the wheel and jumped the curb. These are low FIA curbs, not street curbs, but it's still a goodly thump. We cut through the M the short way, throwing grass and dirt, then back on the track, pointed perfectly to continue through the Ms. Hot shit, how about that? Right foot reflexively goes down. I'm expecting to rocket out of the Ms and onto the back straight, where we'll mosey along until we get to one of the areas where we can get off the track to see if anything is falling off the car.

I'm glad nobody had a video camera to catch my expression. Foot went down, but instead of going forward, the Corvette did a 180 and we went over the far curb backwards, then did another 360 in the grass. I sat in shock and watched a Porsche go by before I pulled a little further off the track to make sure I was clear of the runoff zone, then shut the car off while I tried to figure out what happened. Grass and mud in the tires, and when I punched it the car wasn't completely straight, so it swapped ends instead of going where it was pointed. Made perfect sense in retrospect.

"Do you know what you did?" Kathy asked.

"I wasn't paying attention to the track."

Kathy dropped a wad of grass over the side. "That's not the best line through the Ms."

The Corvette was unhurt, but by the time we checked the car out and got back on the track, it was the end of the run session, and that was my last session of the day.

Back to Memphis. We're up until one in the morning, pull the radiator out of the RX, flush and backflush, then run two cans of old EPA-outlawed oxylic acid radiator cleaner through the cooling system. Back up at 5AM, shower, dress, head back to the track.

Red group is up first this morning. Track's still slick with dew. Kathy and I are first in line, the flagger waves us off. It's cold as hell. Maybe we'll get an extra lap before the temp guage pegs. The Tomb and and launch pad are almost like ice. Temp guage is steady on 210. I add a little more speed, still working on smooth. Two laps. Still steady on 210. Hot damn. We're up to my arbitrary 5500 RPM redline through most of the track, coming up on traffic. Surging problem comes back with a vengeance, and I have to back off to 4000. The Mazda pump is dying - the plugs were snow white when I checked them the night before. Working very hard on smooth. The Capri's rock hard suspension let me get away with a lot, but the RX is not only stock, but has the original 165,000 mile shocks on it. Every tiny control input is instantly obvious to my instructor. Temp guage drops back to 200. Kathy and I both lean over to check it on the back straight. "Do you think it's going to make it?" she asks. "Looks like it!" I replied. We work on smooth some more, and then the idiot flagger guy is waving the checkered at us. Come on, we only got a few laps! I check my watch. 25 minutes? Already? We made it!

Later I'm rooting around in one of the ice chests when I heard a squeal and a crunch. Someone cooked into the Nineties too hot, went through the verge, and into the guardrail. The paramedics help the driver out of the car. "Who's that?" someone asked.

"I think it's my instructor," I replied.

My run group was up next, so I walked over to see if she wanted me to find another instructor. I caught her attention. "How embarrassing," I said. She turned and pointed at one of the other bystanders. "There! THAT's what you say when someone hits the guard rail!"

She was still a bit rattled, but wanted to make the group, so I walked back to the car, picked her up, and we went back out on the track. Kathy was a good instructor; she picked up right where she'd left off on the previous session. The RX made the whole thing again. By the end of that session I was running up on people on the back section of the track. Lots of people coming out of Turn 3 on the wrong side, which pretty well mungs the Ms, though none of them went off the course. Ahem. So we'd wind up poking along behind someone through the back section, blast past them coming out onto the strip, and then point them back around when we ran out of RPM.

We made the rest of the sessions with no further problems. I had a lot of fun and learned some new stuff. Despite radiator and fuel pump problems, the RX soldiered through valiantly. It also made it 175 miles back home without missing a lick.

People kept coming over and asking, "Does that thing really have a V8 in it?" Then I'd lift the hood and show them. I finally just left it up when in the pits. A number of people commented on how quiet it was - several people said, "You can't hear the exhaust at all when it's on the track." People could hear it in the Tomb, though.

Grant's Tomb is the drag strip staging area, an increasing radius 180. It has concrete walls on both sides, and looks more like an aqueduct than track. Since I hadn't had time to finish the airbox, TRX was running with one of AB's old nylons pulled over the carb inlet to keep the buzzards out. "Every time you went through the Tomb," one guy said, "I could gear the four barrel open up when you started turning in. I haven't heard anything like that in years!"

So, everything turned out well.

The brakes and tires are fine. My new 3-row radiator is in place. The front end is ripped out while I put in new shocks, inner and outer tierod ends, bushings, and ball joints. The big front bar should come in this week. A new high capacity fuel pump is in the stack. Memphis Region SCCA is holding a two day event next weekend, and they already have my check.

Yes, we're having fun now.

[email protected]========================DoD#978=======
can you help me...help me get out of this place?...slow sedation...
ain't my style, ain't my pace...giving me a number...NINE, SEVEN, EIGHT
==5.0 RX7 -> Tyrannosaurus RX! == SAE '82 == Denizens of Doom M/C '92==

[and the second half of the description of TRX' second track event. The first half... uh... my dog ate the diskette, yeah... This one was actually an SCCA Solo I event.]

Date: Sun, 12 Nov 1995 21:22:00 +0000
From: [email protected] (Dave Williams)
Subject: track 2
To: [email protected]

Tyrannosaurus RX lost the left rear wheel bearing late Saturday afternoon. It made it the rest of the event, but we didn't feel like trying to chase a Mazda axle bearing and installation Saturday evening, particularly since the storm the previous night had knocked out Jay's electricity, which was still off Saturday night.

Temps stayed steadfastly down at 180. However, considering the weather when the track opened was a brisk 28 degrees, with gentle 30 mph winds, the cooling system hardly got a workout.

There were several other first generation RXs at the event, mostly IT cars getting some seat time. Surprisingly, none of them were holy rotors. "What kind of gears are you running in that?"

"3.91s, but I'm going to 3.00s soon."

"I'm running 5.18s. It must be nice to have torque."

The old 302 ran 350 miles at 4000 RPM to and from the event, plus six 20 minute sessions, either redlined or firewalled, and used just under half a quart of oil, almost all of that at the track. Not bad for 145,000 miles.

With the long drive home looming, caution took the better part of valor. I left TRX at Jay's and we doubled up in the Corvette, which soldiered through fifteen back to back 20-minute sessions with only the usual tire rotation and the sacrifice of a 13x1.1 rotor to the Brake Gods.

My other car project had a financial setback over the weekend. When we were having the rain tires mounted at a local tire store, Jay said something about how nice it would be to be able to mount tires himself. The tire guy said he knew where some equipment might be for sale and gave us a name and address. For grins we stopped by. One tire store chain had bought out another, closed a bunch of stores, and had a snotload of extra equipment taking up space. I got a Coats digital wheel balancer and a four jaw, overhead arm, side break rotating table tire machine, both fully equipped, for $1200. Now, if only I can figure out where to *put* them...

[email protected]========================DoD#978=======
can you help me...help me get out of this place?...slow sedation...
ain't my style, ain't my pace...giving me a number...NINE, SEVEN, EIGHT
==5.0 RX7 -> Tyrannosaurus RX! == SAE '82 == Denizens of Doom M/C '92==