Well, I sort of neglected to update this, but this is it: Picked up the car, started down and about the time we got into the mountains, the brakes on the truck started to get a little strange, i.e. pedal needed to be pumped up, and when it did work it would pull right or left. That, combined with the truck's gutless 7.3 and 3.73 gears made the mountains a rather exciting time. After the mountains, things went smoothly and we dropped Mom off at the hotel while Dad and I took the car to the track, where I was immediately drafted for rookie orientation and then weed-whipping short shutdown. By then, Dad had given up on me and returned to the hotel, so I drove the Escort back and for the first time with the racing seat and seatbelt. Dan Stokes took me and my parents out to dinner, where he did his best to assure my parents that what I was doing was really quite safe. Dad needed little convincing, since his youth involved street racing his 13 second 1965 442. He is tickled that I bother with all the trouble of the safety equipment and taking the car to a track. Mom, well, she needs some reassuring. Saturday morning rolled around and I arrived at the track around 5:30 to prep the car. Then I worked on the starting line till noon, and the after that I finally got into the Escort and rolled around to the line. I definitely had first run jitters, since this was a much bigger and more dangerous deal than my 1/8th mile passes. However, it went without a hitch, or so it seemed.
I just kept the hammer down, didn't miss shifts, and ended up running 100.5. As I rolled into short shutdown, still giddy, Victor waved me over and said "The tower called, they said you dropped something on the track". Crap. It turns out, it was a screwdriver that had fallen through a hole in the floor at the starting line. Oops. I made several other passes that day, netting a best of 102 with the front end taped up. On sunday, I arrived at 5:30 again to make a few small changes to the car, and then I started running laps. I was in search of 103. We had the whole front end of the car taped off, with Russell and Graham providing their tape and expertise. On my last few passes of the day, I beat the snot out of it. I was trying to push the go pedal through the floor. On my second to last pass, I ran 102.8. Before I even got out of the car to grab my timeslip, Kieth just waves me back to the return road. So I line up on more time, and I gave it one more shot. 103.2. It was fun. Sure, it was slow, but it was still an awesome. I will be back next year, so question.