This all reminds me of the time I got my Tookus handed to me, but good, by a guy in a '65 Ford Falcon. I was cruising along in my new '89 Mustang LX 5 liter hatchback thinking I was DA MAN. 302 ci of raw muscle (for that day and time, anyway) and I was looking for trouble on Atlanta's hwy 285, a big 10 lane circle around the city. I catch a glimpse of a bright yellow streak up ahead and I gun it to catch up. I pull along side what had to be the worse looking piece of shade tree Rod building I had ever seen. None of the wheels matched, there was NO interior, hell, I think he was sitting on a milk crate and the thing sounded as if there was also NO exhaust installed. Needless to say I made the mistake of giving him the "Go" sign. He was 4 cars out and still pulling away by the time I completed my move from 5th to 3rd.

That wasn't the 1st time I had heard a small block screaming past 7000 rpm but it still made the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I'd still swear I heard the tires break loose... I pull up to him again, but this time I'm ready. I'm in third now and no way he pulls me like that again. The second the hood of my car lifted he was out on me 2 cars. I remember how silly I felt when I realized that if he didn't slow down there was no way I could catch him. I sheepishly cruise up to him trying hard not trigger another beat-down. Fortunately, he slows and I sign language to him that I wasn't trying to race. I was out Gunned and out matched and, finally, I knew it. Turns out he had dropped a built 347 (289 bored and stroked) producing something like 450HP at the wheels in a car weighing 2400lbs. He was out on a shake down run. My first lesson in power to weight ratio.

What really stuck with me was how willing I would have been to trade my optioned up Mustang for that bare bones Falcon.