Every year we used to high tail it up to the Monterey Historics. It usually revolved around me getting my own Targa ready the afternoon of the day we left. (usually had been working on my buddies cars so they were always ready) So this provided the impetus to "make up for lost time" when we hit the highways.
Well... one year we had 5 of us ; A black RS clone with a 2.8 RS/R mfi, me with a 3 liter installed for the year , our red 77 turbo, a friend in a 2.4 T, and maniac buddy (RIP) in his tweaked 924 GTS clone (yeah, big turbo, big brakes, intercooler, lots of goodies) < we will call him Wes.
Our route would take us from the San Fernando Valley up the 101, to the coast where Hwy 1 would be liberally enjoyed.
So off we go. Wes is leading and from his extensive Cannonball Run experience (honest!) he is flying thru and around traffic. It was the most bizarre and somewhat scary thing. He had figured out that by AVERAGING 90 thru traffic, that they would not over react (no cell phone invented yet) as he would be gone in a flash. We attempted to do the same and made it to Santa Barbara just as it got dark. That is where we lost his tailamps and our nerve to keep up.
Emboldened by his flight, we took to San Marcos pass with some verve and streaked across well into 3 digits whenever clear roads allowed.
When we came up on slower traffic, we would "sneak up" at 70-75 to see what the clump was made up of, then dispatch ourselves ahead when it was clear again. If we had followed this tactic, we probably would have never experienced what followed.
Once we hit the 101 north again, we were using the clear spots to sprint, and work traffic smoothly to get ahead again. That's when some guy comes flying up in a V6 Chevy S10 pickup with this grin on his face. Not being ones with common sense or lack of testosterone, 4 feet went to the floor almost simultaneously to show this americun iron how teutonic metal can muster.
Dang if he did not stay with us to 125 or so! What the $%^&* ? So we hit it harder and this time really left him. Well at these rates you get speed drunk; it feels soo right when the cars are running smooth and the rhythm is going good. We covered the space between Los Olivos and San Luis Obispo in very short period of time. We slowed down as traffic was building getting into town and settled to the more sedate rate of 75 or so.
We exited for a quick stop at the Madonna Inn.
As we were sitting there waiting for the light to change, this strange loud voice shattered the night air "YOU, IN THE PORSCHES! WHEN THE LIGHT CHANGES TURN LEFT. DON'T TRY TO RUN AS WE HAVE YOUR LICENSE PLATE NUMBERS !!"
Oh... Holy mother of god !! There was the CHP sitting there right behind our little group on the ramp. The Teflon had worn thru. We were in deep you know what.
So we pull into the Madonna lot , and no sooner than we had stopped, it was a black and white circus. CHP cruisers, bikes, CHP Mustangs- " You got em all?" was overheard. Uh.. Oh... This was bigger than a regular stop (ya think?!)
" Why you guys slow down?" Huh? " why did you guys slow down?! I'd been chasing you since Los Olivos and thought you lost me till you slowed down coming into town. Heck you guys are real lucky because we were setting up a road block about a mile up!"
uh... this is not good. We had heard about when they set up road blocks. Cars impounded, huge fines, make the papers....
The driver of the CHP car on the ramp was all lit up. He was going to see us hang. Fortunately for us , his partner was a more experienced (and lenient) officer. He chatted with us for a little bit, putting fear into our brains (the teflon was coming back though- more later). As a group he asked what speed we felt was a good average. We crept up from 60 (absolute speed limit was 55 at the time) to 75, and "struck a deal"
No one would go to court over this and take our punishment at 75 mph (which just so happened to be the limit of traffic school at the time- phew!!)
Okay.. you think we would have learned from this? About an hour later while behaving ourselves on highway 1 leaving San Luis Obispo, Dan Hagerty (yeah, Grizzly Adams) and a friend of his go screaming by us in their 308's. Now you just know that if a Chevy S 10 could light us up, what a pair of pasta machines would do.
But that's another story for another time
