Well I was gonna post up an elaborate story concerning my EVO kill two weekends ago however this last Satuday night events I find are more interesting to write about.
As most of you know, I recently lost to an STi on the freeway. As a result of this, I went through many stages of anger, denial, frustration and ultimately confusion.
I had lost faith in the GSX. I was no longer confident in the 400 angry ponies I kept under the OEM hood.
After dropping off the girlfriend, I noticed an abundant amount of rice on the freeway heading the other direction. Being awake and bored, I decided to turn around and follow. Long story short, I went up to Ravensdale, a local track/highway out in the middle of nowhere. No exciting races were taking place when I got there, just a bunch of standing around/smack talking.
I was eager to prove the GSXs worthiness. I was seeking redemption and yes, I wanted to run something fast. So I just shouted "who wants to run an 11 sec GSX?!?" The crowd starts talking. I roll up to the line, somewhat complacent in my own little world with 'The Game' playing out of my Bose speakers providing a thugged out soundtrack. Sure enough, rice lines up next to me. A white gutted hatch. I smoke him bad. Very bad. I saw this more as launch practice than an actual race. It was fun flying down the highway with my wastegate blasting off the spectating ricers. Oohs and awws were heard from the crowd.
Next was a 300zx, then an Integra. Each seemingly slaughtered worse than the last. Yes these were all slow cars, but I was again beginning to find confidence in my ride. Then the white EVO MR rolls through. I immediately call him out. He is naturally cocky, and accepts. The asian flager annouces the matchup to the spectators as if it was the main fight at the MGM grand. I look over at the EVO driver and ask "what you got done?" "A few little things" he replies with a smirk on his face. I knew it was stock turbo, I could feel it. Relief washes over me.
The flagger drops his arms. At 6500rpm I slip the clutch out. it was the launch of the century. I swear it was a 1.6 60" The EVO gets an impressive launch also, being only a car back at the end of first gear. After that, I just straight out muscled him pulling 4-6 cars up to 110mph where I shut it down. He never came up beside me. That was fine, I made my point and I went home with a new strange satisfaction.
Well that satisfaction stayed with me until last Saturday. A meetup was arranged with some SRT-4 driving friends over on SRT forums. We were to meet at the local spot at 11. I showed up early with two friends. Nothing worthy seemed to be present. I cruised along the backside of they neighboring Jack in the Box when I unintentionally drove directly into what seemed to be a trap. 3 domestics blocking the way. A blue/grey 5.0, a red/sliver striped SS, and a black Mach 1. They were even pointed intentionally in a half circle. I imagine for intimidation purposes. I roll up to the Mach 1. "Wanna run?"
"Okay." is all he says.
"Coulon?" i ask.
"Sure" he says.
Now this seems too easy. Fast cars ready to run. It never works out like this. Not one to complain, I head out to the track with the three domestics close behind. I start playing out scenarios in my head. If the Mach is not spraying, he's mine. But I was definitely concerned with the SS. Heads/cam or 150 shot would take me if he hooked up. These thought were immediately dismissed by the sound of aftermarket V8 exhaust in the fast lane of the freeway. The Mach 1 wanted to try me on the way there, and I had 600lbs worth of additional weight in the GSX. Well I hit it anyway and he follows suit. Due to getting the jump I instantly put 1-2 cars on him which is followed by 4-6 more. Not even close. This Mach 1 was close to stock. Relief again washes over me.
We get to the track and check for police. My friends get out and I line up. As long as I don't completely mess up I have this. My buddy drops his arms and I launch too hard. The rpms stay at redline throughout first gear. I look to my speedometer and wait for 35mph. It comes and hit the rev limiter. Damn. Big backfire. Slam second and continue on. I had about 10 cars at the end of 3rd gear so I shut it down. On the way back, I signal to the spectating SS to bring it. He does.
We line up and he stages. I must say I am intimidated by this display of power. It is times like this that two liters of displacement just makes you feel inadequate.
Well, my buddy once again drops his arms and I get a good launch. Took the SS of the line by about 2 cars I would say. Slammed second and he was still back there. Third gear comes and he is coming up on me. Damn. This car was soo loud it completely drowned out my external wastegate at WOT.
I saw it in the rear view, and damn it looked fast. Then I realized I was ahead, and thought "Damn I'm fast!" He got a car back by the time I shut it down right at 4th gear. A little less than a quarter, but the end of the track nonetheless. He was a car back and if we had taken to the middle of fourth we probably would have been dead even. Great race.
We stop at the end just in time and he says "fast car" or something to that effect.
"Yeah good run, let's go again" I reply. These domestic guys were surprisingly cool.
We line up again and I get a great launch this time putting the SS back. As I hit third I realize the SS got off it. I come back and they say they think they broke something yet don't pop the hood, just stare at the Camaro's exhaust. He said had a cam, 4.10's and bolt-ons. In retrospect, I think the SS smelled defeat and gave up. Either way, the four banger that could came out on top. I relayed the 'broken SS' story to my friends who said that he must've broken his ego and had to go home to fix it
For some reason I thought the 5.0 would be the fastest, but he didn't want any. Apparently it was the slowest. We headed out, and I was more than satisfied with the state of the GSX. That SS did out trap me, but I won.