Hey Jackie,
Your '67 Malibu sounds healthy! And that boat sure looks like it'd get the adrenaline going. Also, your fuel burning Harley really hits home with me, of course! Riding a dragbike is easy - as long as it's going straight. When they get out of shape, however, all bets are off. Sounds like yours bit you hard..
And a question for you, from one dragbiker to another - do you ever get annoyed when the loose screw that's bouncing around inside your head lands on two live wires and shorts out? Just curious.. 8^)
Mike
I have quite a few screws that held parts together while healing. My orthopedic surgeon back then told me I really had no business being alive.
the story on my crash goes like this.
back in the early ‘80’s, we were still running the old 10” wide Firestone wrinkle wall slick. My bike was built on a Kosman frame, Goodyear came out with a new tire for bikes that was really proving to be good.
I got one, but had to modify the frame on the right side to get chain clearance. It took a couple of weeks to get things together. We decided to take it out on a Wednesday night test night.
We got to the track around 5, told the track manager we wanted to make some test runs.
Goodyear recommended from 6 to 9 psi in the tire, the first run was with 9. As the clutch began locking up as the bike went down the track, I could still feel a little fishtailing as the tire slipped.
That run produced the quickest time ever, 8.61 at over 160.
my partner towed me back, we changed the piston rings out, (you had to do this just about every run), and around 8, we were ready again. This time, we put the tire pressure at around 7 psi.
I did my burnout, it felt great. I staged and watch the tree come down.
The tire bit great, she came back on the wheelie bars hard. The bike kinda leaped into the far lefthand side of the lane. It felt so goor, All I could see was 8.50.
In that left hand lane, at about 3/4 track right on the line, there was a bump. I as riding the line, trying to body steer the bike toward the end.
I hit that bump. I was so loose on the bike, I just fell of, or at last that seems what happened. I woke up in the Life Flight Chopper heading to Hermann Hospitol.
I had rolled over 300 feet straight down the track. but I did not hit anything, like a guard rail or timing cone.
I dislocated both shoulders, broke my left arm, knock the knee cap on my right leg, off. And tore the Achilles’ tendon from my right leg. Plus, all of my organs got moved around a lot.
But it didn’t kill me. No head injury. It took them a while to get everything back in place and make a reasonably good human being.
That ended my racing days. I promised my wife that that was it. No more.
But that’s not to say I don’t like romping down on the Malibu’s gas pedal every now and then.