| Page 3 of 3 < |
Fall Driving, From the Top Down
|
Discussion Policy
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
|
Along Route 340, outside Waynesboro, we heard the unmistakable sound of slightly bigger car engines being revved in anger. We pulled into Eastside Speedway to watch the drag racing.
The MGA looked like an ant among elephants. But seeing the cars in close proximity -- the vest-pocket MGA in the same parking lot as the scoop-hooded, wheelie-popping Camaros, Mavericks and Mustangs -- reminded us of the plasticity of the automotive form. The same impulse that led early man to transform the mangy canines that crept near his campfire into both Chihauhaus and Bernese mountain dogs explains the kinship we felt for our Eastside brethren and their Super Pro machines.
By the time we left, the sun had gotten low and the air had cooled. The warmth from the engine that earlier in the day had seemed almost oppressive now was toasty and welcome as it seeped through the cockpit of the MGA.
We still hadn't answered that question -- why, against our better judgment, did we like cars like this? -- but we were having fun trying.
Details: Blue Ridge Motoring




