[Spridgets] Fun with RHD - PtII

[HealeyRick]

We took the "shortcut" to Lime Rock, a winding back road through some of
the prettiest scenery in the Berkshires. If some movie producer wanted 
to
cast the part of "Sports Car Road" this one would get the lead.
Unfortunately, on race weekends it is the gathering place for every 
local
yokel for miles around who are trying to enrich the coffers of 
their
picturesque southwestern Massachusetts and northeastern 
Connecticut villages
at the expense of those rich sporty car fellas.
     
As Bob was showing me what a GT40 could do on this particular stretch of
God's-own sports car playground, which happened to be about four times 
the
legal limit and half the speed that Dan Gurney could have driven it,
 a
helpful soul gave us the universal sign that a speed trap awaited 
over the
top of the next hill. With heroic braking and downshifting, Bob
 managed to
get us under the speed limit before we crested the rise and 
we motored
sedately past the radar officer.
     
I knew this wasn't going to go well. Just imagine you're some small town
cop seeing a white race car with blue over-the-roof stripes pass by. By
 the
soul of Buford T. Justice, I intuit we're going to be having a 
conversation
on the side of the road in the very near future. So I stare
 into the fender
mirror and ... wait for it ... there they are ... we're
 lit up.
    
The nice officer approaches the driver's window, I slide open the tiny
window (no real race car would have roll down windows) and direct him 
over to
the passenger's side to talk to Bob. Wait a minute, Rick. You 
said Bob was
driving, but now you're sitting on the driver's side? What 
gives? You forgot
I said this was a British race car with the steering 
wheel on the right-hand
side where God and the Queen intended it. As 
soon as the officer gets to
Bob's side he notices the four six-packs of 
beer I have lined up next to me
on top of the fuel tank in the side 
sill. Are any of those open, he asks me.
Since it was 9:00 am, luckily 
none were. (Note to self, when your buddies ask
you to bring beer to the
 track on Sunday because all the liquor stores are
closed, bring a car 
that has a trunk).
                                                
(more coming)

Rick


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