GuapOh
06-25-2004, 04:43 PM
Splendid day for motoring in rural Nor Cal. I'm heading southbound on CA Route 70 from Chico area towards Marysville when I hear a very loud droning exhaust note coming from my rear.
Check the rearview....early 90's Prelude, canary yellow with a 10 foot tall CB antenna. WTF I'm thinking. These 2 dorks roll past at about 70 mph and they are all about lookin' cool. The honda's fart can is singing it's soprano exhaust song and I'm ready to heave a lung from all the black smoke this thing is pouring out. I've got Roy Orboson in the CD player and sunroof lettin' the glorious Nor Cal sunshine in. These weenies are a complete assault on my senses.
I drop to 3rd and mash the gas. The M54 motor is eating up the roadway and the punks of the day are left feeling all alone in less than 30 seconds. After shifting into 4th and holdin' it down for a few seconds I lift out of the gas about 300 yards past them going 105 mph and figure I'm free to enjoy my cruise once more.
No such luck. These human mistakes chase me down once I slow down to double digits. As Joe Dirt comes motor'n up he's got his CB mic in hand and seems to be lookin' at me as if I should answer his "breaker breaker". Accordingly I pick up my cell phone and show him that I am without his 1975 state of the art mobile communications device. He seems pissed-off now cuz' some yuppie lookin' dude in a suit and bright red european machine is making him rue the day. His partner in the "rio's" seat is telling him to do some of the "pilot shit".
The canary yellow Prelude pulls forward and as I am just watching this saga unfold I get the 3,2,1 finger countdown from these superheros. Fine, I just press the peddle down slowly, no need to downshift, the M54 has easily double the torque of this cracked up canary ricer. We are side by side until about 100. I'm not even trying to kill this guy at this point but am rather toying him like a cat does a mouse its already killed.
As we move through 100 mph on a long, straight and level piece of Highway 70 Mr. Prelude begins wandering in his lane way too much for my comfort so I quickly downshift to 4th, move out on him to 115 mph and establish some minimum safe distance for myself.
Damn good thing I did. Do you know what happens next? Yep, you guessed it, 110MPH was the break away speed for the Honda's magnetic antenna mast. Wind resistance on this dork's CB mast causes the damn thing to become dislodged from the roof center and swing on its cable tether which is going into the car through the passenger door. The magnetic mast is being dragged and flung all over the roadway at over 100 mph. (ouch) The picture in my rearview is beautifully funny and I'm laughin' at the top of my lungs.
The co-pilot then gets the great idea to roll down his window and pull in the antenna. Yeah right.
As soon as the driver slows down below 100 and his passenger reels in about 3 feet of antenna cable guess what happens next? The damn magnetic mast base becomes attracted to the first metal it can smell and WHACK!!, it attaches itself to the lower portion of the Prelude's right rear quarter panel aimed at a downwards angle. Accordingly, the magnetic base holds the mast on the earth while it is ground away into nothing by the blacktop.
At this point I nearly have to pull over from lack of O2 cuz' I've been laughin' so damn hard I can hardly inhale and my eyes are choked with tears.
All of this took place near Oroville, CA. For those who don't know it. Oroville is CA's welfare and disability fraud capital and is considered as a resort town by the majority of its citizens which relocated there from Arkansas.
Damn, I love my Dinan 5 and am simply amazed at the stupidity of people who think they can best the e39 in a 10 year old piece of rice garbage or a General Lee horn Mullit packin' Dodge Truck.
The only time I get to have realistic runs is when I'm down in the city where I can always find a willing participant but up here in the Nor Cal Sierra Foothills european sports cars are few and far between.
Check the rearview....early 90's Prelude, canary yellow with a 10 foot tall CB antenna. WTF I'm thinking. These 2 dorks roll past at about 70 mph and they are all about lookin' cool. The honda's fart can is singing it's soprano exhaust song and I'm ready to heave a lung from all the black smoke this thing is pouring out. I've got Roy Orboson in the CD player and sunroof lettin' the glorious Nor Cal sunshine in. These weenies are a complete assault on my senses.
I drop to 3rd and mash the gas. The M54 motor is eating up the roadway and the punks of the day are left feeling all alone in less than 30 seconds. After shifting into 4th and holdin' it down for a few seconds I lift out of the gas about 300 yards past them going 105 mph and figure I'm free to enjoy my cruise once more.
No such luck. These human mistakes chase me down once I slow down to double digits. As Joe Dirt comes motor'n up he's got his CB mic in hand and seems to be lookin' at me as if I should answer his "breaker breaker". Accordingly I pick up my cell phone and show him that I am without his 1975 state of the art mobile communications device. He seems pissed-off now cuz' some yuppie lookin' dude in a suit and bright red european machine is making him rue the day. His partner in the "rio's" seat is telling him to do some of the "pilot shit".
The canary yellow Prelude pulls forward and as I am just watching this saga unfold I get the 3,2,1 finger countdown from these superheros. Fine, I just press the peddle down slowly, no need to downshift, the M54 has easily double the torque of this cracked up canary ricer. We are side by side until about 100. I'm not even trying to kill this guy at this point but am rather toying him like a cat does a mouse its already killed.
As we move through 100 mph on a long, straight and level piece of Highway 70 Mr. Prelude begins wandering in his lane way too much for my comfort so I quickly downshift to 4th, move out on him to 115 mph and establish some minimum safe distance for myself.
Damn good thing I did. Do you know what happens next? Yep, you guessed it, 110MPH was the break away speed for the Honda's magnetic antenna mast. Wind resistance on this dork's CB mast causes the damn thing to become dislodged from the roof center and swing on its cable tether which is going into the car through the passenger door. The magnetic mast is being dragged and flung all over the roadway at over 100 mph. (ouch) The picture in my rearview is beautifully funny and I'm laughin' at the top of my lungs.
The co-pilot then gets the great idea to roll down his window and pull in the antenna. Yeah right.
As soon as the driver slows down below 100 and his passenger reels in about 3 feet of antenna cable guess what happens next? The damn magnetic mast base becomes attracted to the first metal it can smell and WHACK!!, it attaches itself to the lower portion of the Prelude's right rear quarter panel aimed at a downwards angle. Accordingly, the magnetic base holds the mast on the earth while it is ground away into nothing by the blacktop.
At this point I nearly have to pull over from lack of O2 cuz' I've been laughin' so damn hard I can hardly inhale and my eyes are choked with tears.
All of this took place near Oroville, CA. For those who don't know it. Oroville is CA's welfare and disability fraud capital and is considered as a resort town by the majority of its citizens which relocated there from Arkansas.
Damn, I love my Dinan 5 and am simply amazed at the stupidity of people who think they can best the e39 in a 10 year old piece of rice garbage or a General Lee horn Mullit packin' Dodge Truck.
The only time I get to have realistic runs is when I'm down in the city where I can always find a willing participant but up here in the Nor Cal Sierra Foothills european sports cars are few and far between.