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drags 004A Camshaft Profiledrags 006

...And He was MOON EQUIPT.


TO Shasmu Menu

The painstakingly polished Thrush side pipes barked their authority as the engine roared to life.

With the hand choke pulled halfway out, the Holley double pumper rocked side to side in cadence with the erratic heartbeat that was conducted by the Mallory dual point distributer.

The Edelbrock ''Torker'' single plane intake manifold featured a canted carburetor mounting angle and tuned runners that offered little resistance to airflow at mid to high rpm range.

Unburned Hi-test hydrocarbons filled the air as the sloppy rich mixture stumbled from poor atomization and lack of adequate vacuum and compression. This engine was definitely not designed to develop its peak torque at the low end. The mechanical bumpstick's rockers rattled, clattered and clicked as if to shiver, from the cold engine's excessive tolerances.

Begging for rpms, the temperamental powerplant felt as a caged tiger awakened and clawing his confinement, yearning for the opportunity to run wild with strength and power. It was obvious this engine was built to perform.

The stiff clutch pedal assured the driver of it's capability to handle the twisting force imposed upon it at any given moment.

Under ride traction bars braced the rear axle to help prevent that violent wheel hopping when the low geared no-slip differential fed power to the excessively wide rear meats.

Truly there was no mistaking this vehicles attitude or intent.

Creeping out of the driveway, the wild stallion bucked and snarled as hydrocarbons were purged from within by the barefoot accelerator pedal.

Deep and monotonous thundering bass filled the cockpit while the whole vehicle vibrated and rocked.

With his adrenalin production off the scale, the driver suddenly unleashes the cam's potential! The rear tires begin to scream in agony from the pavements shredding and burning of their skin in their futile attempt to gain traction.

G forces imposed on the driver were considerable, he felt pinned to his seat. The pungent stench of burning rubber encroached the interior as the vehicle accelerated at an amazing pace.

Thirty-five miles an hour was exceeded quickly, the officer cruising just down the next cross street noted, when the hot rod went carelessly and wrecklessly screaming past.

''Oh crap, not again'', the driver thought to himself, as he pulled slowly to the curb.