MicVelo

Sorry a vague segue....

While I have zero issues with anyone driving an A/T equipped Z, what does irk me some is my looking (shopping, hmm?) at newish Z34N's ('16+) and NOT ONE on the local market is a manual+synchrorev! All are A/T cars and my preference is manual. Ehhh.

Bad enough that people are relying so heavily on tech these days - making bad drivers THINK they're good drivers - and when the art/skill of car control is left to the mechanical/electronic accoutrements of the car and not the kinetic motion and software behind the wheel, I weep for the future of sharing the road with these people.

(But I'm not so old and set in my ways to recognize that such safety features will actually save lives. I just feel many are missing the true joys of driving and controlling the physics using a deft touch of brain/hands/feet. Oh well.)

Get off my lawn ya whippersnapper hooligans! Hahahahahaha.

Sorry, I threadjacked, David. Back to "The Tracker"! Sorry, here, let me collab witchu...

"And as the Tracker head off towards the West upon his trusty AX6 Redline steed, his fthful srvnt and cook, WhoooFat(that's me, in case you weren't following the continued adventures of The Tracker), followed in the CTS-V wagon, with the wood stove kept afire upon a flat tow trailer attached via his class 3 tow hitch. The smell of chicken chow mein wafting behind, attracting the ravenous masses in a caravan destined to become hungry again after an hour... following his declaration: 'Sorry, we're out of fortune cookies.'"

carbuffguy

hahah - your wife has good taste. Not real indicative of the 72 hand-me-down I had though. Yep, my first car was a 3mt 72 Maverick (speaking of ponies) I remember the first time she broke ME in. Two minutes into a solo drive I found myself on a forty degree incline sitting at a red light with a car right behind me...after waving the other car back, way back, I gave it a go...stall, stall, stall - rolling back, back, back (clutch burning, horns a honkin) light turns red again Used the emergency brake for assistance. Without it I'd still be sitting there
I broke the clutch fork in that beast and drove it till payday (4/5 days) without a clutch. No better way to learn how to time shifts, rpm/synchronicity etc. Stop and start involved pull out of gear (at that moment of inertia) ignition off - start in 1st,(real good for the clutch) clutch-less shifts. Down gear into 1st, not doable. Anyway, it was my pride and joy. Sticking with the format, it got road hard and put away wet like an old horse

dkmura

iTrader: (64)

The winter winds were biting as the tracker moved rapidly along the Santa Fe trail. It wasn't a full gallop-- there was no need to wear out his steed. But a steady 3/4 stride was more than enough to make the ride south both easy and quick. The tracker reveled in the pace and appreciated the speed his big grey stallion had found. Even after years of being in the saddle, he enjoyed everything about crossing the mountains and prairie into the high desert. He'd come to notice how the light changed in subtle ways as the southern route proceeded- from yellow to white and into a pinkish tint as the sunset began to drop near the mountain ranges. Better yet, the weather--while cold--wasn't wet except for a few snow bursts near the mountain pass.

Despite the pace, the tracker had learned it was always wise to rest each night and unrolled his saddle pack and build a fire each evening. Getting tired could be deadly in his business, as he'd learned all too well in the past. Still, it was a calming sight to see all those stars in the dark, clear skies, before he shut his weary eyes each night. It was always a good sign when his mount was ready and eager for the new day when he awoke. After cleaning and packing, he left the land as untouched as possible before hitting the trail once again.

All these mundane details made up the life of the tracker. The freedom to ride the high ranges and choose his own path across the wide desert were what he'd always craved. While some jobs paid only a few pieces of gold, the fact that he simply enjoyed using his speed and skills to get the jobs done were what really kept him on the road.

dkmura

iTrader: (64)

Just as the sun was rising, the tracker was riding hard to the west. He had business in the Colorado mountains, and his red steed was eager to gallop. Some might have found it hard to be comfortable in the saddle, but the tracker had always found a sense of ease and security here. Years of riding long distances had taught him to trust the feelings and sensations (Koni Sport shocks, Eibach Prokit springs and Nismo S-tune sways) his mount was communicating to his hindquarters. The smooth power and easy gait made the miles easy to put away (6th gear cruising still gets 33 MPG) even as the trail moved up the Continental Divide.

The tracker reflected on past trips made westward in years past. Riding with others with similar mounts (Z33 meetups in the mountains), they swept through towns like Empire, Steamboat Springs and Leadville. Those were heady days and their gang came from far and wide to share adventures. But these days, he rarely saw any steeds like his, and most of those rarely ventured far from their barns. On this day, some smaller steeds came rushing past (a brace of Mini Coopers running at 15 MPH over the speed limit) and his steed goaded him into a faster pace. Through the switchbacks and sweepers they rode, keeping a sharp eye out for the sheriff in these parts.

Arriving at the small hamlet of Avon, the tracker went about his business, while his mount took a break in the shade. He marveled at how well the red horse had handled the (15 going on 16) years. With a sleek profile and shiny coat, other riders took notice, even though their newer steeds (BMWs and Audis) were hitched nearby. Regular applications of Blackfire worked well, and reminded the tracker that one was due later this summer. Once business was concluded, the tracker found he was more than willing to return home, even though there was no real need to hurry. Rainstorms were on the horizon, and it would take more than thunder and lightening to dampen the joy his spirit continued to feel.