Seems like I’m last again. Looking at the other driver’s blogs on NHRA.com, I clearly have fallen behind my fellow racers, but not for long. Also, it’s definitely not due to laziness (I’ll save that excuse for something later), I just haven’t been home or had computer access. Lest you think I’ve just been lying around on the couch, here goes a two-parter.

I finally finished Jenna’s dragster, and her mom Cindy came out to the shop to help me load it in the trailer. Of course it was raining heavily, and of course I had to pack up all of my toolboxes from the shop to finish moving out. The plan was for me to tow the trailer to the trucking yard where it is stored, and for Cindy to follow me in my Nissan pickup. You may remember it, the famous tree-pulling, 233,000 mile beauty with not a single straight panel on it, but it purrs like a kitten thanks to Valvoline. I forgot to tell Cindy that the clutch was starting to wear and that she should baby it since it was loaded down. Oops. I’m not sure what she noticed first, the engine screaming while the truck chugged down to 35 mph, or the pungent aroma of fried clutch, but she didn’t get far. Thanks to the Automobile Club of Southern California the truck is safely in her garage until I can get it back home. Let’s see, maybe our clutch man Terry can help me throw a new unit in it. It takes him about 25 minutes to do the clutch in the Funny Car, and I’m predicting mid-February for me to get the Red Rocket back on the road.

Though it seems like a month or more, our drive in the motorhome to Phoenix was less than two weeks ago. After catching up on all of our chores, we didn’t get on the road until late, and arrived at the track at 3 a.m. If you know me, this really wouldn’t be a big surprise. It just makes 8 a.m. seem that much earlier.

Testing was interesting. Jenna and Jason usually stayed in the motor home and watched the runs, as it was fairly cold all weekend. We parked next to the track, and Jason would sit up on the dash and watch Daddy run. Sometimes he cheered, sometimes he just licked the windshield. He is starting to point at things now, and his laugh is so funny. He looks silly with the gaps between his upper teeth, and I love him to pieces. The track was extremely tricky from Friday through at least Monday. With the cold weather and moisture in the area, it was just plain tough to negotiate. The more cars that went down, the more tire smoke and shutoff runs we saw. It had to be frustrating for many of the teams. Once the track got some heat in it we did see more quick runs, but I’ve never experienced as much tire shake as I did in those six days. My head hurt. My back hurt. Everything hurt. It didn’t help that Sunday was a complete washout with lots of rain, or that the tune-ups were altered with the increase in nitro percentage and additional weight. We made a total of 12 runs (no wonder my head still hurts), and I think our team benefited tremendously from being together and servicing the car so many times. I dig the new crew, and I feel very optimistic in their abilities. Rick and Tommy got lots of data, and we did make several good runs. Though we never went past 1,000 feet under power (intentionally) we did run as quick as 4.85, which would have been a 4.81. Our last run, just around dusk on Wednesday, was very interesting. Apparently the gears in the rear end were starting to “clearance” themselves excessively, and the resulting vibration combined with lack of ambient light was a bit unnerving. Runs like that take the “fun” out of “Funny Car.” We still ran in the fours and loaded up feeling pretty good about Pomona. The new paint scheme looks fantastic, and I can’t wait to get unloaded for our first race together.

Jenna, Jason and I left the track late Wednesday and drove straight through (about 425 miles), arriving back home at 3:30 a.m. (sound familiar?). Finally we can get some rest, or not. We needed to leave that night for Las Vegas and the Division 7 National Open. After a full day catching up with bills, e-mails, shopping and the like, we arrived in Vegas at – here it comes; 3 a.m. I’m like a clock. I just wish I could get off of Rio de Janeiro time. Again, 8 a.m. came very early. I drove Jeff Strunk’s LandShark again, and made shakedown runs in Rodger Comstock’s brand new MTS Top Dragster. Since Rodger had to work, and had zero data with his new 1,200 horsepower digger, I tried to get him some throttle stop information so when he runs Super Comp in Pomona he won’t be lost. I think that we’ll be close. I lost first round in the LandShark after gaining a .007 to .056 reaction advantage and not being able to run the number. I lost first round in Rodger’s car to my surf bud, Rich Camou. I doubt I’ll ever hear the end of that. Now I need to learn to out surf him or I’m in big trouble.