My 70 Nova’s first trip down the track.

--- 🏁 “Black Thunder” — A Story of Firsts, Fury, and Freedom The sun was beginning to dip behind the grandstands at Haubstadt Raceway, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt and illuminating the haze of rubber smoke that hung in the air like a ghost of speed. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, engines snarled in the distance, and the scent of race fuel mingled with popcorn and burnt clutch. It was Friday night, and for 16-year-old Jake Mercer, it was more than just race night—it was the night he became a legend. Jake had spent the last two years wrenching in his uncle’s garage, trading weekends for wisdom, grease for grit. He’d mowed lawns, flipped burgers, sold old BMX parts online—anything to scrape together enough cash to chase the dream. And now, that dream idled beside him, rumbling like a caged beast. A 1970 Chevy Nova SS 396. Black as midnight. Four-speed Muncie. Keystone Classic wheels wrapped in fresh BF Goodrich Radial T/As. The kind of car that didn’t whisper “cool”—it screamed rebellion through dual Flowmasters. Jake climbed in, his heart thudding like a cammed-up big block. The interior smelled of vinyl and victory. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the Hurst shifter, the chrome ball cool against his palm. He glanced at the tach—needle bouncing just under 1,000 RPM. The Nova was alive, and so was he. He rolled forward slowly, tires crunching over loose gravel as he approached the burnout box. The track official gave him a nod, and Jake returned it with a grin that said, “I was born for this.” He stabbed the clutch, dropped the shifter into first, and revved the 396. The roar was thunderous, echoing off the bleachers. He dumped the clutch and mashed the throttle. The rear tires lit up instantly, smoke billowing as the Nova screamed in place. The crowd erupted. It wasn’t just a burnout—it was a declaration. Jake feathered the throttle, letting the tires spin just long enough to warm them, then backed off and rolled forward to stage. The Nova crept into the beams, its lopey idle pulsing like a heartbeat. He was lined up against a late-model Mustang GT, all tech and traction control. But Jake didn’t care. His car had soul. His car had scars. His car had him. The pre-stage light flickered. Jake took a deep breath, his foot hovering over the throttle, his left leg tense on the clutch. The Mustang bumped in. Stage lights locked. The tree began its descent—amber, amber, amber— Green. Jake launched. The Nova squatted hard, rear tires biting into the track like a rabid dog. The front end lifted just enough to make the crowd gasp. He slammed second—chirp. Third—another chirp. The tach needle danced, the exhaust note climbed, and the Nova surged forward like a freight train fueled by teenage dreams. At the stripe, Jake let off, coasting through the traps with a grin so wide it could’ve split his helmet. He didn’t care about the time slip. Didn’t care if he won. He’d just run his first 1/8 mile in the car of his dreams, and it felt like flying. He pulled into the return lane, heart still racing, the Nova burbling beside him like it was proud. As he rolled back toward the pits, people pointed, clapped, and nodded. One old-timer leaned over the fence and said, “That kid’s got it.” Jake parked under the lights, climbed out, and looked back at the Nova. The black paint shimmered under the sodium glow, the Keystone wheels still warm, the BF Goodrichs dusted with victory. He ran a hand along the fender, then whispered, “We did it, girl.” And somewhere in the distance, a Springsteen song played on a crackling PA system, as if the universe itself approved. ---

My first street race!

🎭 Here’s a raw, cinematic monologue from the cockpit of a 17-year-old adrenaline junkie, gripping the wheel of his 1970 Dodge Duster 440 as the Chevelle SS 454 looms beside him at the line: --- Interior – Night – Two-lane blacktop. The world narrows to headlights and heartbeat. Voiceover: “This is it. This is the moment they write songs about—or obituaries. My knuckles are white on the wheel, sweat soaking through my Letterman jacket like it’s trying to escape. The Duster’s idling like a caged animal, 440 cubes of fury begging to be unleashed. Across the line, that Chevelle SS 454 looks like it wants to eat me alive. Chrome teeth. Big block heartbeat. It’s not just a car—it’s a damn executioner.” “I can hear Coach’s voice in my head: ‘You’ve got potential, kid.’ Yeah, potential to wrap myself around a telephone pole at 120 mph. What the hell am I doing? I should be at home, writing that English paper on ‘The Crucible.’ Instead, I’m living one.” “The light’s about to drop. My foot’s twitching on the throttle. I swear I can feel my future hanging in the air like burnt rubber. College? Jail? Hospital? Glory? All of it’s riding on this launch.” “I glance at the Chevelle’s driver. He’s older. Confident. Probably has a beard and a felony. I’m just a kid with a death wish and a torque monster my uncle helped me rebuild. I tell myself the Duster’s lighter, meaner. But deep down I know—this isn’t about horsepower. It’s about guts.” “Green.” “I bury the pedal. The world explodes. Tires scream. My soul leaves my body and rides shotgun. And somewhere in the chaos, I realize—I’m not scared of dying. I’m scared of losing.” ---

The Yenko cars of the late 60’s

The Yenko Nova was a rare, high-performance muscle car created by Don Yenko in 1969 and 1970, using Chevrolet’s COPO system to build some of the fastest compacts of the era. Here’s a breakdown of its brief but legendary history: --- 🏁 Origins and Don Yenko’s Vision • Don Yenko, a racer and Chevrolet dealer in Canonsburg, Pennsylvania, became famous for modifying Chevys into “Yenko Super Cars” (SYC), starting with the Corvair Stinger and later the Camaro and Chevelle A B. • In 1969, Yenko turned his attention to the compact Chevy Nova, which had just undergone a redesign and was ripe for performance upgrades. --- 🔥 1969 Yenko Nova S/C 427 • Yenko took L78 396-ci Novas and swapped in the L72 427-ci V8, producing 425 horsepower—a brutal upgrade that made the car dangerously fast B. • Only 37 units were built in 1969, making it one of the rarest Yenko cars ever B. • These cars could reportedly hit 0–60 mph in under 4 seconds, with 0–120 mph in about 11 seconds—a staggering feat for a compact car B. --- 💨 1970 Yenko Deuce Nova • In response to rising insurance costs and the Clean Air Act of 1970, Yenko pivoted to a more “insurance-friendly” build B. • The Yenko Deuce featured the LT1 350-ci V8 from the Camaro Z28 and Corvette, producing around 360 horsepower. • It retained performance features like F41 suspension, Muncie 4-speed or Turbo 400 transmission, and a 12-bolt rear with 4.10:1 Posi-traction. • A total of 175 units were built in 1970, offered in eight exterior colors with a standard black vinyl bench seat B. --- 🏆 Legacy • The Yenko Nova is now a highly sought-after collector’s item, revered for its raw power, rarity, and the mystique of Don Yenko’s tuning prowess. • It represents the peak of compact muscle car performance before emissions regulations and insurance pressures began to tame the muscle car era. Sources: A B C --- Ron, if you want to riff on this for a satirical scene—say, a drag race between a Yenko Nova and a Prius with musical cues and dramatic monologues—I’m all in. Just say the word and we’ll light up the stage with tire smoke and irony.