It was Junior year of high school, and I had already decided cars would be an active obsession of mine for a life. Having already leased my first vehicle by then, a new Dodge Dakota, black, with the 4.7L V8, I found when it came to cars passion trumped logic. You see, this was a lease vehicle, as in not mine to own, and yet I had equipped it with different wheels and tires, a body lift, intake, milled throttle body, tubular headers, cat back, tune and tonneau cover. I didn't seem to mind much that this was money down the drain, this was my baby, my first "car," something special to me. I have to admit, the truck was pretty quick and cool and sounded great after all that work. Was it wise? Probably not, but undoubtedly fun to experience that transformation and know it was my own creation. Sure, the truck worked for the weather and winters here in New York, and came in handy for my other hobbies like mountain biking, but I caught another bug about a year into ownership. What bit me was speed, I wanted to go fast, I wanted to feel the pull of torque and the scream of horsepower.
Don't get me wrong, the truck had some balls, but it was in no way sporty. I needed something different, something credible with a pedigree of performance. I began to research my options, Corvettes out of reach, Camaros not my style, German imports too high maintenance, and sport Japanese models lacking the clenched fist power I craved. Finally I stumbled upon my answer, not by specs alone, not with visual appearance, but with a sound. You see, I always liked Mustangs, as many young men do, but there was something too common about them. That's when I heard a Mustang that sounded unlike any of the others I was used to. That's when I heard the 32V variant of the modular 4.6L V8 that they only drop in a very special Mustang variant. That model was the SVT Cobra of 2001, and wound up being the car I was determined to buy. Everything in that car was just a bit sweeter than your average Mustang, from the suede-laden interior, to premium sound system, to beautiful hand-built motor, and stout 5-speed manual transmission. Only issue was, I didn't know how to drive that manual transmission.
Undeterred by this small fact, I finally found the car I wanted in Long Island; a stock, silver on black, one owner car with low miles. Still unable to drive manual, I had to bring the mechanic, and now friend that worked on my truck to test-drive the car for me. I played the whole thing off like "I know how they drive" and I just wanted my mechanic to drive it to diagnose any issues. Car checked out, loan came through, and my father was kind enough to drive it home for me as I still couldn't drive what was now my car. First stop? Parking lot. Time to learn how to row gears. This should be the point that you start to get an idea of how my car habit resides in my heart and not my head. I had, here in the story, spent a little over $4000 to terminate the lease for the truck I spent even more modifying, to turn around and buy a sports car I couldn't drive with the intent to learn in said sports car. Back to the parking lot, I took the wheel and worked through a few hours, and a decent amount of clutch, learning how to operate a manual transmission. Luckily, I was a bit of a natural, and was moving through 1st, 2nd and 3rd with a modicum of ease by the time we left. I thought this to be the moment I would switch back with my father to have him drive home, but he had other plans. Gesturing toward the exit, he made it clear that my second lesson was a full blown road test. During that trip I learned two things, one being how quickly I can start the car again after stalling at an intersection. Two was just how fast my new toy was.
Turning onto the Saw Mill Parkway during a large break in traffic, I looked at my dad and half shrugged, the universal sign for "should I?" My father responded with a quick thumbs up, which is the last thing I remember before burying the pedal in first gear. Tires squealed as the car rocketed forward at what felt then like supersonic speeds. In my euphoric mix of delight and terror I forgot all of my lessons and within a couple of seconds the car was bouncing off the rev limiter with my dad pointing at the stick shouting "shift!" I couldn't help it, the car just got there faster than I ever anticipated.
Faster, a word that would define my automotive pursuits from that point on. I built that car out over time with a list of modifications that could take pages to write, and still stands as the car I did the most work to of any I have ever owned. I knew then that this was going to be an interest that would define me from then on, determined to drive or own as many cars as I could. I simply wanted to, and still want to experience every kind I can. I'm on my way, 10 cars later, and have no intention of stopping. There's just far too many amazing vehicles to try, and life, like that first gear in the Cobra, is simply too short.
See you on the road,
Alexander
No comments:
Post a Comment