Todd Mullins writes:
>Therein lies the yin and yang of it. Of the many methods mankind has
>used to scoot himself about over the years, nothing quite matches the
>rumble of a BIG 'murrican V8. Driving milady's Mustang ('65
>convertible, with the 2V 289 and Cruise-O-Matic) is certainly enjoyable,
>but it also sharply focuses the reasons that I like my MGB so much.
>But man, that torque. Nudge those butterflies open and you're THERE.
>The throttle really becomes more of an on/off switch; the whole driving
>And the flip side of that coin is represented by the nimble little
>racers we usually talk about here. One the one hand you have a massive
>One man blasts the most direct route through; the other gracefully picks
>his line with the care of a choreographer. One driver needs only a few
>simple controls and a vast reserve of power; the other chooses instead
>the car that lets him fine-tune to the demands of the road.
How true, how true. Travelled to Summit Point this past summer to see
vintage car racing. The difference was just as Todd describes. The MG's,
Triumphs, formula 4's etc. would zip around the track squeeling rubber
in the turns and accelerate away. Then came the Corvettes, Mustangs,
(a few) Barracudas, V-12 Jags and a Ferrari with their ear drum break-
ing, thundering exhaust. The stands, literally vibrated and you could
barely hear yourself think, much less talk to the person next to you.
Both had their own appeal. Choices, choices. "If I were a rich man...."
Mike Lambdin
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