Got the Nats in OH and Carlisle out in PA - either one is a long haul from the west coast and mountain west states. I always wished that the big national shows were more "centrally" located - someplace like KC, St Lou, or even Chicago.
Back when I had a young butt and could stay in the saddle for days on end, marathon road trips were a way of life for me. Back in '85 I drove my '70 Cuda from Sacramento to LA (to pick up a beautiful blonde "copilot" ) then on to Chelsea (Chrysler Proving Grounds) Michigan and back for the Nats. The first "day" (it was more like 36 hrs or so) I did Sac to LA to Denver - it was exhausting Took two more days to get to Chelsea from Denver.
Got a little exciting in Colorado. Climbing up the I-70 grade to Loveland pass (11,000') the air got thin and the carb mixture got real rich. The engine was loading up, chugging and belching out a black cloud behind us. For the last part of the climb I wasn't sure it was going to make it to the top. Then coming down the the Front Range my copilot was driving and the brakes went to the floor. We're flying down the highway with no break in the downhill grade and I'm yelling "pump 'em! pump 'em!"
Fortunately pumping the pedal worked and we were able to get safely off the road and into a rest stop. After we changed our underwear it took a little while to find the problem. I had done a complete brake job just before I left Sac. The Cuda had drums on the front and when I reassembled the brakes I mistakenly swapped the self-adjusters from side to side. So instead of automatically adjusting the shoe towards the drum, the adjusters were moving the shoes away from the drum. As fate would have it, by the time we got to the Loveland pass the clearance had become so great that one stroke of the brake pedal simply wasn't enough to effect the brake. We were lucky that we didn't wreck with that one. Fortunately the rest of the road trip was pretty uneventful.
There...fixed it for ya.
Back when I had a young butt and could stay in the saddle for days on end. Marathons were a way of life for me.
Back in '85 I drove my '70 Cuda from Sacramento to LA (to pick up a beautiful blonde "copilot"
)
The first "day" (it was more like 36 hrs or so.
it was exhausting
Got a little exciting in Colorado.
Then coming, my copilot was driving and the I went to the floor.
We're flying down with no break and I'm yelling "pump 'em! pump 'em!"
Fortunately pumping worked and we were able to get into a rest stop.
After we changed our underwear it took a little while to find the problem.
As fate would have it, by the time we got to the Love passage the clearance had become so great that one stroke simply wasn't enough.
We were lucky that we didn't wreck.
Fortunately the rest of the road trip was pretty uneventful.