Discussion
What a fantastic road. I went along to G-force to drop the car off and meet up with the Turbo register. TurboFree came along in his motor and what fun did we have...
The look on BMW drivers faces, dawdling along at 100, as we came screaming up behind them. Unfortunately, by the time they'd done the double-take we were hard on the brakes trying to scrub off 50+ mph
Loads of nice cars turned up, a number of tuned GT2's and lots of 930's...
Anyway TF gave me a lift home, and decided to nail it all the way down the A41
Fucking hell his car is quick. Redline in 5th and it was still pulling like its arse was on fire...
Looking forward to picking the car up next week and doing it all over again...
fyi all speeds are obviously complete works of fiction Mr plod
The look on BMW drivers faces, dawdling along at 100, as we came screaming up behind them. Unfortunately, by the time they'd done the double-take we were hard on the brakes trying to scrub off 50+ mph
Loads of nice cars turned up, a number of tuned GT2's and lots of 930's...
Anyway TF gave me a lift home, and decided to nail it all the way down the A41
Fucking hell his car is quick. Redline in 5th and it was still pulling like its arse was on fire... Looking forward to picking the car up next week and doing it all over again...
fyi all speeds are obviously complete works of fiction Mr plod
Well done, UV.
Nice to see some extreme non-enforcement of limit observation c/o the blown community.
I was 'tootling' in the last rays of yesterday's half decent sunlight, attempting a little enforcement of my own, praying that the DIY mob had cleared orf to allow some, how would Tiff put it, "serious, high speed motoring."
Unfortunately, they hadn't and despite the odd bit of life threatening multiple numpty eliminating overtaking manouevering, even the most challenging back roads were choked with the flotsam of a hundred thousand God awful retail park ejectees, trundling back home and ruining my hallowed quest for suspension testing velocities.
There was only one thing to do: pull over, stick some of Tony Iommi's solo Sabbath craft on and wait for the Highway to Hell to wave me on...
Minutes past as one trilby after another farted by, my tortured gaze in the rear view waiting for a blank canvass of tarmac that mirrored the runway ahead. Then it was time.
Dial in the revs; 3000 or 3500? Oh b*ll*cks, let's go for it: side stepping the clutch produced an unholy stench as the burning vapouirs signalled the mechanical aprobation; this melded with a cloud of rubber induced smoke and some backfiring the like of which I hadn't induced before.
Traction somehow gained entrance to the party and before I could even think about timing the proceedings I was doing 85 and realised I'd missed the opportunity.
So back to a bit more riffmeistery from the Brumster of Metal and wait patiently. The moment was quite perfect: A track called 'In For The Kill' had just fired up and the speed demon was flickering with pure, lusty desire.
Dial in, step off; floor it. Holy sh1t! 60 was gone in an instant and before I could think 'death to mid-laners' the beetle was squirming past 120 and things were puckering up in the butt department. This was a B-road and the surface was not of Germanic composition.
Slamming on the brakes, I marvelled at their retardation, despite a little chassis shimmying. I yelped with delight and then drove home at about 35, slighty shaky but fundamentally refreshed; nicely quaffed on the juice of pistonic orgasm and satiated for another week...
In for the kill, no quarter be shown;
Live for the thrill, of [speed] alone...
Dear me.
Nice to see some extreme non-enforcement of limit observation c/o the blown community.
I was 'tootling' in the last rays of yesterday's half decent sunlight, attempting a little enforcement of my own, praying that the DIY mob had cleared orf to allow some, how would Tiff put it, "serious, high speed motoring."
Unfortunately, they hadn't and despite the odd bit of life threatening multiple numpty eliminating overtaking manouevering, even the most challenging back roads were choked with the flotsam of a hundred thousand God awful retail park ejectees, trundling back home and ruining my hallowed quest for suspension testing velocities.
There was only one thing to do: pull over, stick some of Tony Iommi's solo Sabbath craft on and wait for the Highway to Hell to wave me on...
Minutes past as one trilby after another farted by, my tortured gaze in the rear view waiting for a blank canvass of tarmac that mirrored the runway ahead. Then it was time.
Dial in the revs; 3000 or 3500? Oh b*ll*cks, let's go for it: side stepping the clutch produced an unholy stench as the burning vapouirs signalled the mechanical aprobation; this melded with a cloud of rubber induced smoke and some backfiring the like of which I hadn't induced before.
Traction somehow gained entrance to the party and before I could even think about timing the proceedings I was doing 85 and realised I'd missed the opportunity.
So back to a bit more riffmeistery from the Brumster of Metal and wait patiently. The moment was quite perfect: A track called 'In For The Kill' had just fired up and the speed demon was flickering with pure, lusty desire.
Dial in, step off; floor it. Holy sh1t! 60 was gone in an instant and before I could think 'death to mid-laners' the beetle was squirming past 120 and things were puckering up in the butt department. This was a B-road and the surface was not of Germanic composition.
Slamming on the brakes, I marvelled at their retardation, despite a little chassis shimmying. I yelped with delight and then drove home at about 35, slighty shaky but fundamentally refreshed; nicely quaffed on the juice of pistonic orgasm and satiated for another week...
In for the kill, no quarter be shown;
Live for the thrill, of [speed] alone...
Dear me.
quote:
I do love Derestrictors posts, its like one of them flowery ohh Mr Darcy type Jane Austen books, but about thrashing cars. He is like the Lawrence Llwellyin Bowen of descrptive writing!!! fabo-tastic. Sod off Clarkson there is a new kid in town!
Does Derestrictor realise he was up for entertainer of the year in the Pistonheads Awards? He will be a worthy winner if he gets the votes. He has me in stitches half the time, and if I didn't write for a living, I'd need a dictionary to translate his posts. Anyone who hasn't voted for entertainer of the year, and the other awards, can find the awards link on the home page.
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