Quote:I learned from our last venture into New Jersey. This time I was prepared with my brandy new Alpine Nav System. We wouldn’t get lost this time. The only problem was I forgot about those NJ jug handles, made a wrong turn and got lost within five minutes after getting off the turnpike, “I guess a $1,000.00 doesn’t buy what it used to, huh?�? said Jim Wirt. It’s always fun to be abused and embarrassed before sunrise. My Dad taught me never to hit a girl. Good thing because after listening to that Nav System female voice telling me what to do through about twenty turns my patience was paper thin. We finally arrived, albeit at the wrong gate.



We met Dale Kulp there and headed to registration. Steve McMorn had asked the NNJ SCCA to put us in a class by ourselves to make our RTR championship scoring easier. We were to use the XP class. Apparently, there were not many cars in this class so we would be scored separately. What we didn’t know is that the XP[/b] stands for eX[/b]tremely P[/b]repared. These are cars that are NOT[/b] street legal and barely resemble anything that would roll off an assembly line.



After every heat I have a habit of popping my hood. In short order several drivers were looking at my engine. I introduced myself and then they said, “ what makes this car an XP?�? I tried to explain the whole RTR Road Show, we wanted to be in a class by ourselves for our championship thing. The more I talked, the more confused they looked. “Porsche guys�?, one mumbled, walking away.

For those of you that don’t know me, my mechanical knowledge ends with gas on the right, brake on the left. I couldn’t talk my way out of this one. They were looking for an explanation of how I installed an over thruster or fusion reactor or whatever to make this an XP. I could offer no clarification.

After my second heat I kept my hood closed in hopes of dodging further embarrassment. No such luck. A fresh group of SCCA’ers came over. This time I thought my strategy should be to change the subject. I quickly channeled my inner Homer Simpson and said “I dunno, where’s the jelly donuts?�?

We were to work the course after our second heat. Jim was hungry and heard of a concession stand on the other side of the stadium. We were sharing the lot with a Ford Mustang rally. On the way to the concession stand we passed rows of Mustangs with their proud owners. Most didn’t have too many tattoos and were probably employed. One of these owners was of female persuasion. “Hey there Mustang Sally!�? Jim exclaimed. Neither she nor her rather burly companion weren’t amused. We couldn’t discern her companion’s gender. We quickened our pace.

Sanitation standards appear to become lower as the season’s end nears. A health certificate unreadable due to food splotches is usually a clue. Jim being of braver fiber than me asked, “What are those?�?, pointing to what appeared to be pieces of burnt crumpled cardboard in grease stained paper trays. “Chicken strips�?, the alert attendant replied. “Made’em fresh last week for the Chevy guys�?, he added while using his pimpled forearm for a facial tissue. “Great, “I’ll take one and a Coke,�? said Jim. I chose to stick with only bottled water and OREOS.

The afternoon was uneventful accept for the constant spinning. It seems that the lot only has a rough coat of macadam instead of finished asphalt. Good fun for Autocrosses. Bad news for those shagging the cones.

The afternoon brought drag racing by the Mustangs. I must admit, even though I have chosen the Path of Porsche, the roar of V-8 American iron elicits a visceral response. Noise to most, music to me. After one particularly loud run by two ‘Stangs, I let out several ape like grunts. Jim was nearby, quickly glanced at me, took three steps away and looked skyward pretending not to know me. No one could have blamed him.

The afternoon brought a fresh group of XP inquisitors. These ones were much younger. Again, they looked into my engine compartment. A little tired and annoyed, I just said while pointing, “Look, there’s the particle accelerator hooked directly into the hyperdrive. It makes the flux capacitor boost the power in the turns by controlling the regenerative cooling in the main combustion chamber. The whole thing was designed by Wernher Von Braun and his V2 rocket team at Peenemunde.�? Impressed they exclaimed “Cool, geez those Germans are great engineers.�?


And my wife says watching the SciFi and History Channel is a waste of time.