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Recollections ... 2
Seven States…Seven Days: SAAC 31
GT350’s were running laps during a track session; the sound was not the hi-performance 289 that came in the cars. It was suspect that several of them were running Windsor Stroker motors. While walking through the tech area, Hal recognized a fellow he knew from Kershaw. He was in a ’65 Mustang fastback snaking his way through the crowd. We learned that his car, built from used parts out of Mooresville discarded by Nextel Cup teams had a Cup engine making 750 hp at the rear wheels! What a beautiful track car, only the essentials. Plenty of GT40’s, original and replica as well as one de Tomaso Pantera set up for the track. The Pantera shape is as timeless as the Cobra. This example, painted black with small fender flares, no bumpers, cooling vents in the hood, and Halibrand Cobra style wheels looked extremely fast!
One of the most astonishing cars to see in person is Dick Smith’s original Cobra “198.” The car sounds as good as it looks, once clocked at 198 mph at Daytona. It was exciting to see this car on the track doing what it does best. It would be a crime to set this car up in a museum for viewing. There were several FFR Spec Racers turning laps as well as other replicas on the track with our large contingent of Superformance owners.
Unique Motorcars showed up in force with five cars from Knoxville, TN and one Superformance among their group. This Unique group from Knoxville started in 1993 with one enthusiast. The owner had a 428 engine in the garage from a sedan, rebuilt and trimmed out like a Cobra engine. A friend convinced him to go to Gadsden, AL to visit Unique Motorcars. By 1996, he had made a decision to purchase a kit and start building. His effort resulted in a very nice car in silver with bolt-on Halibrand wheels and a C6 automatic. His wife passed away in 1998, but he says she was thrilled with the car and loved to ride in it. He has been to ever Cobra Fest that Unique has sponsored. At 78, he is a very active and adamant Cobra fanatic along with his four other friends that cruise together regularly. This small group of Unique owner’s represents our hobby well.
Factory Five Racing owners showed up in force with several cars representing their coupe, roadster, and spec racer. Vendors offered complete spec racers along with information and advice on the series. It was exciting to see so many reputable replica companies in attendance.
In the shade trees, a contingent of owners of original Cobras gathered. The famous Car & Driver cross-country 289 Slab Side was parked there along with an English 289 coil spring car, a 427 Roadster, and others. The Superformance name would fit nicely on a 289 Slab Side. Several owners who have been around awhile all concur that the initial attraction of the Cobra is the timeless body shape, the outrageous engine sound from the side pipes, wide tires, etc… Time and life with the ‘in your face car’ seem to cause an owner to mellow over time and begin to appreciate the little car that started it all. The slab side is a graceful car that has the same enduring qualities of the 427 S/C. Perhaps, Superformance will someday seize the opportunity to satisfy this market niche.
Saturday morning brought another beautiful day to the Virginia countryside. Will piloted SP604 to the track and parked us in the Superformance Corral. Our goal on Saturday was to watch a few hours of the Vintage practice and then get on the road to Atlanta. A group of Superformance owners went to the observation deck and watched the beginning of the practice session. Everyone began picking favorites and listening for their return on the long straight. Speeds appeared to be at a race pace for several of the cars. It was exciting to see the GT350’s and the occasional Trams Am Mustang battling it out on the track. The next session brought out the original Cobras, Daytona Coupes, and GT40s. At about 10:30 AM Will and I decided to pack it in and head for Atlanta. After a few goodbyes around the paddock, we loaded up and Mark helped us push a car out of line so we could begin our journey toward Atlanta.
After we topped off the gas tank, we took a compass heading south on Hwy 29 into North Carolina. As we passed through Charlotte on the I77 Speedway, Will decided that North Carolina drivers need some lessons. Wow! We were in the Saturday night 600 passing through Charlotte. North Carolina was plagued with State Police similar to our home state! It did not seem like we had been in North Carolina very long when we found ourselves in South Carolina. South Carolina seemed to be at a little slower pace even though we did not see any State Police as we passed through. In South Carolina, we got more complements per mile than anywhere else we visited. Lots of cars on big rims with guys hanging out the windows, dread locks in the wind, thumbs up saying things like “sweet ride”, “that’s a bad car man”, “love your ride dude”, and so many more expressions that I can’t begin to recall them all. All the 70’s Caprice convertibles and big Buick’s are in South Carolina wearing 20” – 24” chrome rims! Now you know where to look for them!
It is a short trip across the corner of South Carolina and then you enter Georgia. Atlanta, here we come! At about 3:00 PM we were on the North edge of Atlanta and realized that in only six hours we could be gazing into the Gulf of Mexico. We called Jerry and cancelled our room for the night in Acworth. Will pointed the nose south and took us through a relatively calm Atlanta, even though we passed through as traffic was building at the exit to Turner Field. Perhaps the Braves were in town, but our radio could not tune in an Atlanta station (Joke, Just a Joke). In Columbus, we stopped for gas so that we would be in range of Panama City Beach. At this stop, the gas station attendant wanted to know if our car still had the original Corvette engine! The questions and comments created by the presence of the Cobra never cease to amaze. Columbus is a quaint town, but the streets are poorly marked and a challenge even with GPS enabled! After finding Eufaula, we enjoyed the scenic tour of the historic district. Eufaula is a beautiful old town, well preserved and worth visiting. Saturday night, our singular mission was to roll into the Gulf Coast around 10:00 PM.
As the sky began to fade, we continued to push toward the coast. Tourist and locals continued to rush along side, thumbs up, to get a quick glimpse of the Mk III. Often, they would fade back, the children’s faces plastered against the windows, eyes locked, and smiles wide. As the traffic thinned, a blue haired granny lady in her Saab entertained us with speeds well above the posted limit making US 431 rather fun. After granny passed us the third time with a black Benz from Montana in our draft, the next 50 miles flew by. In Dothan, we stopped for fast food, really fast food, and back on the road again. The coastal air reeled us in!
We arrived in Panama City around 9:00 PM, the holiday traffic was 4th of July thick. We idled along in 2nd gear crossing the bay bridge, two teenage girls in a Mustang, saw the Mk III and pulled along side. We heard the passenger sigh, “Oh, it’s two old guys!” Well, that didn’t hurt my feelings, but it really made my seventeen year old son feel old! I guess twelve hours in an open roadster can even make a teenager look old, I don’t want to know what I looked like at this point! At about 10:00 PM as planned we rolled into our place on the coast. I backed the car into a space out front, unloaded a few things and went inside. Seven states later and we’re in Florida. Twelve hours on the road and still ready for more. Actually, despite the searing heat, we’re in pretty good shape. We went inside hugged and kissed everybody, told a short version of our road trip and crashed! We spent a few days here on the coast, our deck overlooks the gulf and provides a memorable sunset every evening.
Wednesday morning, day seven, just as daylight began to appear, we loaded up our trusty car, fired up the Windsor, and headed north toward Alabama. The morning air was cool and refreshing. The day to come was going to be hot and humid as we traveled across the length of Alabama. We had left Panama City Beach on the back roads and headed toward Troy. We made fast progress on the deserted back roads flashing past roadside peanut and bonsai tree stands. We were on a long stretch of two lane after exiting a shady, wooded area, the bright morning sun didn’t foretell the next series of events. All instruments were in their normal range, then silence! They say silence is golden, but not when you’re expecting to hear a V8 rumble.
This leg of the trip, Charlotte was riding with me and Will and his cousin were driving the Mustang GT home. Coasting to the side of the road, hand up to signal pulling off the road, my first expectation was that the distributor gear had broken. But, before jumping to conclusions, I checked the cut-off switch in the trunk to insure that it had not accidentally been switched off by luggage. Check. Switch is ok. Next, off with the air breather to determine if fuel is available. A stab at the accelerator proved the primaries were pumping fuel. At this point, I assumed that there was an electrical component problem.
Will and his mom headed to Enterprise about 10 miles north to pick up a new coil and an electronic ignition box. A really nice lady, most likely someone’s grandmother, stopped in her ’83 Pontiac, with a rag tied round her head. She begged me to let her go get me some water, or perhaps ride over to her house with her and wait on my wife and son to return. She pointed across the way to a small, white frame farm house and exclaimed, “child, you’ll be in sight of your little car the whole time!” I declined, even-though the small front porch, rocking chairs and thought of ice tea looked inviting; I thanked her for the hospitality. At this point, I only wanted to concentrate on solving the problem at hand. Time passed slowly as I awaited the return of my family. A few other cars stopped, one family on the way home to North Alabama, as well as others, all offering to help. I had a cooler filled with ice and bottles of water, but graciously, everyone that stopped offered a bottle of water!
In the meantime, to begin a contingency plan, I called Jerry Witt at home in Acworth, Georgia to get any ideas he might have and find out if his trailer was available. I had already popped off the distributor cap and tried to spin the rotor. It wouldn’t spin freely, so I assumed that the gear was intact. Jerry suggested cranking the engine over with the cap off to insure that the rotor would turn. Check. It turns. Problem definitely eliminated. Jerry suggested calling Dennis Olthoff to get any additional ideas. Fortunately, I had the shop number with me. I called and spoke with Dave. Dave suggested checking for fire by pulling a plug wire and letting it ark off a head bolt. When Will returned, we tried this and knew that we definitely had an ignition problem. No sparks!
The Car Quest salesperson told Will to try the ignition module first since we couldn’t return the coil if we tried it. My coil was the original, seven years old. In spite of his money saving advice and to expedite repairs, I tried the coil first. Voila! The Windsor fired right up. With the coil secured by the strap, we headed north again. I called Jerry and Dennis to let them know that the problem was solved. Thanked them both and stepped up the pace a notch to try to make up the time. We lost about two hours facilitating the necessary repairs. After a few miles, I slacked off the pace a little and decided that we had all day to get home and there was no need to rush. Soon, we arrived in Troy, Alabama and got some lunch. At Hardees’, a conversation with a local digressed into a discussion on rock crawling! How do you get from Cobras to off-roading? We headed up US 231 N toward Montgomery, the first capital of the Confederacy and Alabama. Yes Hal, Charlotte piloted us from Troy to Montgomery! We jumped on I65N in Montgomery, racing toward our regular stop at exit 205, Peach Park. A great place to relax for a few minutes.
As soon as we left Peach Park, a friend from home called and said he was heading south on I65 and was passing through Birmingham. We planned a stop at exit 246. He was heading to Panama City Beach with his daughter and her two friends. One of the teenagers saw the Cobra and remarked that those cars are made in South Africa. Looking astonished, I asked how she knew that. She said that her family had moved here recently from South Africa and she recognized the Cobra because her friends at home talked about them! It’s a small world!
We moved on toward home, and soon passed through Birmingham without any problem. When we neared the Tennessee River, we got into an afternoon shower. Not a real soaker, just a shower. Perhaps, an omen of what was to come! Top? Who needs a stinking top? We pressed on. Crossed the Tennessee State Line in the rolling green hills of Southern Middle Tennessee. Feels like home! As we neared our exit for the last thirty mile stretch of TN840, we ran in a rain shower that followed us all the way home. No Top! A top is not really necessary, unless you have to stop. There’s only one traffic light on my route between TN840 and home. We had to stop briefly until the traffic was flowing again. By now, the rain had slacked and we cruised home in the dry.
Fantastic trip! Seven Days…Seven States! Over 2,000 miles! Next time I’ll take along a few ‘more’ extra parts just in case. As soon as we started unloading the car in the garage, we were planning the next road trip!
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TSSRA
Bill A.
Superformance MkIII
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