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One of my mentors when young raced a 57 chevy in some now obsolete stock drag racing class. He would paint a stripe all the way down the axles, when the stripe did one full turn it was time to replace the axle.
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In a fit of 16 year old genius, I looked down through the carb while cranking it to see if fuel was flowing, and it was. Flowing straight up in a vapor cloud, around my head, on fire.
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