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No one could ever figure out why the thing was so damned fast, especially considering we were running it on regular pump gas. (~the old man...) LOL

LOL, you know Landru, your comment about pump gas reminded me of an incident that still gives me the sh*ts and grins even now, I was working in a Sunoco station in high school, and this was back when it was still fairly common to run 11 to 1 compression on the street, the gas was leaded, the sky was the limit. Anyway, we used to mix Sunoco 260 with Amoco Super Premium and that was one terrific street fuel if you were running a high compression engine. But what makes me laugh is remembering how this one local genius with a '67 Camaro, 327/365 was running 12 to 1 pop-up pistons and he wanted *maximum power* so he got the bright idea to add some aviation fuel from the local air park to that Sunoco 260 & Amoco Super-Premium mix. I remember when he pulled into the station one Friday evening, and he was all grins until he tried to shut the engine off and it just kept on running, and running, and running, it didn't stop until those TRW forged aluminum pistons began to melt and started to weld themselves to the cylinders, it was a case of 'too hot a fuel' for 'not enough engine' and while the mechanical mayhem was frightening to behold, it was still funny as hell although we dared not laugh ('cuz the car's owner was MUCH bigger than we were, lol).

Damn, I should be writing a book about this.

"LOL, you know Landru, your comment about pump gas reminded me of an incident that still gives me the sh*ts and grins even now, I was working in a Sunoco station in high school, and this was back when it was still fairly common to run 11 to 1 compression on the street, the gas was leaded, the sky was the limit. Anyway, we used to mix Sunoco 260 with Amoco Super Premium and that was one terrific street fuel if you were running a high compression engine. But what makes me laugh is remembering how this one local genius with a '67 Camaro, 327/365 was running 12 to 1 pop-up pistons and he wanted *maximum power* so he got the bright idea to add some aviation fuel from the local air park to that Sunoco 260 & Amoco Super-Premium mix. I remember when he pulled into the station one Friday evening, and he was all grins until he tried to shut the engine off and it just kept on running, and running, and running, it didn't stop until those TRW forged aluminum pistons began to melt and started to weld themselves to the cylinders, it was a case of 'too hot a fuel' for 'not enough engine' and while the mechanical mayhem was frightening to behold, it was still funny as hell although we dared not laugh ('cuz the car's owner was MUCH bigger than we were, lol)."

BWWWWWWWWHAAAAAAAA!!!
Sweet Jesus that's so funny I can stand it!!!!!!!!

mk, meet "Dem Guard"...grew up with "Dem Guard". The crap he & I got into together are legion, make excellent chapters for [that] book you'd like to write. This is only one of those stories.

Anyway DG had a '57 MG, a real rattle trap but hey, it beat the hell outa walking. Of course we were always broke and DG's car, affectionatley called "Little Bear" by DG, 'tho only he knows why, was small & cheap to run. It was only a matter of coming up for $$ for gas.

It wasn't uncommon when we couldn't scrape together a few bucks for gas to pull up next to another car in some parking lot real close adjacent to *that* gas tank; and, since L'il Bear (& by extension, LB's gas tank) was so low?
Just run a hose from the higher car's tank to Li'l Bear's lower tank and voila'...*our* own personal "Gas Station".

Thing is, mk?
We knew damned well if we ever got caught they'd cut our nutz clean off; so, we were nothing if not overly cautious.

OK so one very broke night we're out looking for a victim, and everything that looked plausible [read: high enough relative to Li'l Bear] was also well lit. All except some dump trucks by a construction site. Admittedly a last choice, but WTH, thieves can't be choosers and since it was very dark? *Perfect*.

With lights out we pull up to the target truck with hose in hand, pop the cap off the truck's tank. Sniff it...look at one another, shrug, and say WTF it's either this or hoof. Proceed to pilfer 'til we were satisfied Li'l Bear had been fed enough to provide an evening's worth of running around. Thought best not to push our luck, thinking a cop could come along at anytime we folded up and pulled out.

Dem Guard starts L'il Bear and away we go, all's well.
Once on the road turn on the headlights, same ol' sequence and now feeling very smug about our larcenous ways begin to pat one another on the backs. Who says crime doesn't pay?

Then Li'l bear begins bucking like a wild horse. DG screams "LOOK AT THAT!", pointing to his rear-view mirror.
I turn around & in the headlights of the cars behind are *plumes* of diesel smoke.
My memory blanks-out after that, honest.

Care to finish the story, Dem Guard.
We all assume you had to drain the tank; but, did we ever make it home? LOLOL!!!

"Damn, I should be writing a book about this."

YES!!
"American Graffiti", myass.
We LIVED it! LOL

OK *now* I gotto go!! LOL