History Do you remember your first street race?

In high school I had a stock '64 Dodge 330, 318 Poly/auto. Another guy in my auto shop class had a '65 Olds F85 ( I presume was stock) He talked all kinds of smack so finally I challenged him to a race to shut him up. We set a date and time, I was very nervous because a lot of the guys from shop were going to watch, before the race, I double checked my timing and removed the air cleaner (pulled out all the stops!) We got there my friend flagged us, I dropped the hammer and left him in the dust . . . never heard a peep from him again. That old Poly ran pretty hard and it would even bark the tires shifting into second. My favorite thing to do with it was to push start it - nobody believed an automatic equipped car could be push started, but you could with the early 727's it really wowed some of the guys. It probably wasn't good for it but I never had a problem with the trans. One day the engine started making a weird banging/squeaking noise (rod knock) so I called my Dad - he says "drive it home if it blows it blows" It made it home bangin' all the way. I was in the process of building a 383 for it and also was going to convert it to a 4-speed so it didn't matter if it blew. When it was time to do the upgrade I purposely tried to blow it up on the way to my dads shop, but I just couldn't kill it. After the 383/4-speed swap I went on to win a more street races, never lost one either!

 

Boy do I ever......17 coming home at 10 oclock one night in my 55 Chevy.Long straight road in town.Some guy in a much newer car came along side,and well....it was off to the races.well over the 25mph speed limit when a cop pulled us over. Do you think I just got a ticket? Hell no.Cop knew my father.He took me home,and had words with my old man.I felt like a rat doing it to him.On the up side............no ticket! Did that cure me of speed contests....nope.Only thing that saved my license was going in the service.Cant get in car trouble when your at sea all year.By the time I got out I had all 4 points back.

 

One I forgot was my last visit to Bike Week , Port Orange , Florida . US1 headed from Tiki Hut to the Cabbage Patch . I pull up to the light , riding a hand jammin Shovel . A dude pulls up on an Evo , a real egg head . Him and his crew kinda snickering at the old tank I was on . He revs it up a couple of times . Light changes , smoke is rollin off my tire and I’m flat gone , about 5 blocks down the street between 2 houses sit , 2 locals on bikes , just as I fly by on go the lights . I was so far ahead , I could of lost them , at the Cabbage Patch .

I just halled the old tank down to the curb , climbed off , sit there waiting with license and paper work in hand . One of the biker cops stalled out on the chase . The remaining cop , pulls up walks up to me , I could see my face reflecting in his shiny riding boots . He says “ shut it off “ . I told him sure , but you may have to help me kick the old tank to life again . He chuckled and I guess could tell , I was not all jacked up . He asks “ what happened to the other bike ? “ I ask “ your partner “? He again chuckles and says “ the guy you left the light with , Hell he lost before you hit second ! “
I explained I have no idea about racing .
He says “ I clocked you at 61 in a 45 do you want to see it ?” I naturally say NO . I know I was in the throttle as hard as a big Shovel would spin , I passed them at near 90 MPH . I got my coupon , and talked to the cop for a few minutes before his partner finally pulled up . They gave me a huge break , and chucked at me kickin it back to life .
I missed the first bout of cole slaw wrestling at the Patch , but the next one was just starting when I arrived . My Buds , were all laughing , saying “ you showed the Top Cat , how a real Harley runs !” I’m thinkin , WTH is wrong with me ? I’m riding on a rollin coffin anyway , it’s not cool to drive like I’m headed straight to Hell with a one way pass !
I grew up rather fast after that trip to bike week . Drivin a hand jammer at that speed , racing is just about as close to putting a loaded gun to your own head and snapping the hammer .
Hand Jammer is gone , brain bucket is on every ride , and still no drinking and driving . Oh , the memories , it’s just a gift from God , we all have made it as long as we have with the crazy stuff we have done and lived to share .

My only friendly wish , to all of you is “ be safe as you possibly can , the people you end up hurting worst is your family . “

 

Honestly, I don’t remember my first race. I had lots of them though and am thankful that I never got a ticket and never had any real problems. The main thing I remember from my street racing days was getting a ticket for my exhaust too loud one time out at the street races. I was in my Chevelle, and it was after the local car show when we always raced, which means the cops also knew that. I was just watching that night, but when the cops busted us up, one of them yelled at me and told me to pull over and shut the car off. Anyway, he gave me a ticket that I am sure I could have fought, but I also figured if I did, I would get pulled over about any time I drove the car through town. So, I just paid it and went on...

 

I lost my first street race. I was five years old. Rode my bike to the top of this hill in the neighborhood where we lived back then. One of the neighbors rode up next to me in his car and yelled out, "YOU'RE GONNA GET IN TROUBLE!"

I turned around and pedaled as fast as I could back to my house, but the neighbor beat me there. Had an ass whooping waiting for me...

 

Nothing exciting but still my first. 1975 and sixteen years old, i had a 62 Beetle and a school friend had a 64 Beetle. We raced at lunch time and i lost. JW

 

Hello,

We were in a friend’s 57 Chevy Bel Air Hardtop and he was driving. It was fun, as it was a fast car for the times. I did not have my 58 Impala as yet, so I always got a ride from someone. My friend was slightly older and he was one of the first to get a license and car. We were cruising around Bixby Knolls and of course, went to one of the two drive-in restaurants to get our favorite gravy poured on some classic French fries, plus great hamburgers.

Another episode for the 57 Chevy Bel Air in Bixby Knolls.

While we were eating, several guys from someplace came in and pretended to have a fast car. No one knew who they were as our whole cruising scene in Long Beach had one major drive-in restaurant hang out for every quadrant of the city. In Bixby Knolls, we had two, Grissinger’s on the corner and just around the block to the next big street, Ken’s Burger Place.

But, in East Long Beach, there was Oscar’s, in Southwest Long Beach was Hody’s and in north/north Long Beach/Paramount, was an A&W Drive In hangout. (Bixby Knolls was on the border of North Long Beach, but for some reason, those NLB teenagers hung out someplace else. )

At any rate we were novices to drag racing, but had been witnesses to plenty of races on our home court, Cherry Avenue, located about a mile away from Grissinger’s, running right through two large cemeteries. For us and plenty of teenagers prior to our high school years, there were plenty of stories coming out of this area that go into the history books. Even my brother’s three years in high school had different stories than our age group or the class before them from 55-59.

Somehow everyone or almost everyone knew when it was time to move on from the scene. But, while we were in “our teenage times” we had learned how to race and it was fun while it lasted. It was usually a guy jumping out on the street to set up the two cars before the next stop light change around the corner. Then, it started with everyone on the curb or street looking at the two disappearing cars.

Jnaki

It was certainly different from being on the street watching and being in the passenger seat watching my friend go through his 3 speeds with a powerful acceleration from the start. A Ford sedan on a mean rake was the one from another neighborhood that made our friends wonder what was under the hood.

At the time, no one wanted to meet the challenge, until my friend said that he would race. So, all or most all of the cars parked in the lot drove out in a caravan to the local “Cherry Avenue Drags.”

Usually, there isn’t a big contingent in any race as that draws a lot of attention from the local police. Most of our future races were two cars or the maximum, 4 cars (two races or three races for the eliminator, one in each lane). But this time, almost the whole lot left to see the action. We knew we would only have one race as the crowd was too open and drew too much attention.

The race started with some revving and when the starter lowered his hands, we took off with a whiplash of power. I could see the other car a little behind us and my friend had this sh—eating grin on his face as he shifted to the next gear and next. With each gear, the distance the opponent got farther behind until we crossed the finish line.

Epilogue: Near the finish line, we could see some flashing lights back at the beginning of the course. It happened so fast, but we won, and kept driving to the first secret exit, cross street into a darken neighborhood street. We knew exactly where to park and hide until it was all clear. We could see the B/W cruising down the entrance to this little neighborhood, but they did not go down every side street, nook and cranny.

They went all the way out of the one street they were on to the next big neighborhood. It pays to live in those neighborhoods or to have several of our friends living in that part of Bixby Knolls. We knew every side street and hiding place, so all was good. We were safe.

The Ford sedan was never seen again and we knew why… It was exciting in being in a race and then more exciting for the adrenaline still running high when we were hiding. All in a nights work of upholding the reputation of Bixby Knolls and the hot rod racers/cars/race history that went along over the passing years.

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