"In less enlightened times, the best way to impress women was to own a hot car. But women wised up and realized it was better to buy their own hot cars so they wouldn't have to ride around with jerks." - Scott Adams, Creator of Dilbert.
I'm the type of girl who hugs her car...
But the things that might surprise you about it; it's a stick shift, it has no back seat, and it's no push over. This isn't some little red Ford Focus that belongs to the girl downstairs, it's a 350Z, a magnificent machine in the Nissan dynasty. A lineage traced to the 70s as the original company name of Datsun broke into the US auto market to make a name for themselves not just in efficient commuter cars, but prove that their was passion under the hood. The Z's intended concept by Katayama himself was a GT car that was the epitome of style giving it's owner the upgrade options and modifications through a wide variety of aftermarket parts. The Z was meant to be a "tuner" and I have forever been in love. It was the love for the Z that took my life from average to extraordinary.
It started with the "kid" version of the Z cars, the 200SX from the 80s. A little known 2-door sports compact with rear wheel drive and a spirited 4 cylinder turbo engine. Black and white in trim I dubbed the car "Panda" and badged it so. Somehow I earned my car's moniker, guilt by association I suppose, but no amount of heckling from the mid-life crisis Corvette driving crowd on the autocross track was going to phase me. I dated mechanics and picked up what knowledge I could. My dad, love him, was about as mechanically inclined as a turnip. I can recall many a road side fiasco that had I known what I know now probably wouldn't have been quite so dramatic. People ask how I got into this hobby and I truly don't know when it happened or how it happened. When I was 15 years old I was terrified of getting my driver's license. Some unexplainable feeling when behind the wheel of the car on a back road that winds and twists for miles where you are open to push as hard and as fast as you can. Before long your movements are as mechanical as the cars and you've built a relationship with a hunk of metal. Suddenly it's no longer just a car, it's taken on human characteristics, it has a personality, before you know it you've named it and you greet it as if it were your best friend every morning you open the garage door. Welcome Gearheads to the tales of the Panda Racer.
Love, Peace and Grease
How I wish I hadn't forgotten my sunscreen this weekend. The myth's about Seattle's forever rainy weather shattered by a weekend of scorching hot sun, not a cloud in the bright blue skies and fun at Import Face-Off 2011. Upon arrival to the hotel I was greeted by Nigel, Jen and Elliot who were lacking in lodging for the evening. Bottles of 151, Dry Fly Vodka, Smirnoff and microwave pizza kicked off our mini party. It was hard getting in much sleep, especially with Nigel's turbo dreams as his occasional snores sound just like a blow off valve.
An early morning scramble to the car wash to clean the insect genocide from my front bumper before the cruise out to Pacific Raceways with Nigel and Brandon. I carefully waxed my car from nose to tail, it's hard to not feel outclassed by some of the cars around you. By the time I pulled up there was already people there with huge displays lifting their cars on blocks off the ground, mirrors placed under the car to reflect the suspension. While these displays draw attention this is not something I will likely ever do since my car still gets driven daily during summers and my undercarriage looks like it too. Engine swaps outrageous, paint jobs even more eye popping, and some cars over all we're just too much but most competitors know that is what wins shows even if you can't stand how riced your car is by the time you get done with it.
I could feel my skin start to seer as we sat in the stands watching the qualifying rounds. Among the amatuers and their 16 second cars there were some of the big players there including English Racing, Speed Factory, and Kaizen Speed. I saw a DSM run an 8.56 quarter mile in the qualifiers and continue running it all day, I was shocked. Then again they had a whole trailer and probably 5 mechanics standing around it so who knows what parts they replaced in that day. The burnout competition, sadly, was not so popular this year, I really was hoping that 350Z would take another win. A 350Z did win the Best Nissan category though, one of the Team Menace cars with an obscene amount of work done to it. I saw that roll up and knew I didn't have a chance but I did enjoy talking to it's owner, Ken, and getting some helpful information.
Though no trophies were won it's hard to be disappointed over a weekend so packed full of racing, over the top show cars, and good company. Not to mention all the free NOS you can ingest... or rather that Nigel could pack in his car to take home. Normally I would hate the long drive home, especially considering the rock caught sideways in my AC condenser cutting off the creature comforts to my already small cramped space, but 77 degrees made for a comfortable ride with the windows down as I hauled ass through the pass and snacked on some fresh watermelon slices.
The summer has finally arrived in the city of Spokane. Took it long enough, it only had to roll over into the month of July before we saw temperatures climb above 80 degrees and put a stop to the rain. Fumes of exhaust are so thick you could choke in downtown as traffic is stalled by over 300 classics, hot rods and tuners taking back the drag on a Friday night. This tradition abandoned years ago when the city police department given excuse to run the youth out in their hordes of vehicles over a shooting in the 80s. The roars from open headers echo off the sides of Spokane's tallest buildings as we reclaim our streets once again.
Spokane is a city of classic, hot rods, and American muscle, you can't imagine how tough it is being an import in what seems like such a small world of a large city. There is far too many kids revving bad exhaust jobs at all the old-timers that makes a bad name for the rest of us, but lets be honest here the average Spokane dwelling import owner has a Honda with a bad exhaust job. Further investigation of these Hondas will reveal an assortment of eBay and AutoZone purchased parts and accessories. Nothing is more distinct than a sound of a modified Honda, I would know... an obnoxious one in my apartment complex wakes me up every morning. As if that extra revv right before you shift into reverse serves any purpose.
If not woken by ricey back-rap it's by chinese flute tones emitting from my cellphone as text messages fill up the inbox. This is the age of drama... if it doesn't have to do with a boy it's has to do with cars and the people who drive them. Area car club's produce some of the worst cat fights I've ever seen, but then again it's also domain to some of the biggest pussies around too. Knowing who to make friends with here is like a game of Russian Roulette with your social life. The wrong person thrown into the mix and suddenly you're worrying about your baby everytime you leave it in a parking lot or denying rumors about sleeping with some random guy. 10 years out of high school and not much has changed for them, but I've done my share of growing up. While many of them are still resenting their parents I'm still resenting at least one of mine while the other has passed away. Already engaged with an epic battle with the big "C" by the age of 24. I'll find time for more details about my life later but it's no secret life's little experiences can turn you cynical so as you read keep in mind some of this textual verse maybe dripping with sarcasm.
