They pushed the beaten Jalopy up to the victory podium, the winner firmly wedged in his single seat cockpit, heart still pounding from the fight. Lap after lap, and mile after mile as oil and dirt accumulated on the racer's face, he pressed on toward... <BR><BR>To read the rest of this blog entry from The Jalopy Journal, click here.
Thanks for sharing these. Those were the days......I can't imagine the sounds and smells of the races in those days. How cool would it have been to just stroll through the pits at any given race back then.
Thanks Jay! Nothin' beats a late 40's track roadster in my book..... the spoils at the end of the race just add to it! click-on-um
Why not trophy girls in the work place? Beat a deadline;trophy and a kiss. Come through in the clutch;trophy and a kiss. Talk about a motivated workforce!
All photos of, and courtesy from the late, great, Rosie Roussel, RIP. </O <O</O <O </O <O </O <O</O <O </O <O</O