This is a friend's story. A very quiet kinda guy. Not really a racing story, but I liked it anyway. He had a GTO which everyone called a "goat" in those days. I guess it was a gutsy car.

Took place prolly 30+ years ago on a Sandy Eggo freeway at 2:00 in the morning. He's a fairly new Navy pilot. On the freeway, pretty much all alone when two cars pass him on the right. First car pulls in ahead of him, second car drops back a little, and they've got him boxed in. Then they both start slowing. By the time they were down to about 25 mph, he decided he'd had enough. Moved his car up to the one in front, made contact, then floored it. Guy in front was braking, but it wasn't doing him much good. Then he trys to out accelerate, but that just allowed the speed to jump that much faster. Guy along side was keeping up, not too hard considering the goat was accelerating two cars at the same time.

He stayed on the guy until they hit 120 mph at which time he chopped the throttle and layed on the brakes. The other two kept on going, then shot down the first off-ramp they came to. Friend swears they had to have rolled or crashed at the bottom considering the speed they were going.

Yep, quiet kinda guy. Just the kind that could climb a tower some day and start shooting.

Although he was navy, there had to be some marine training there. Typical marine battlefield situation: You've got your back to a 50 foot cliff. There are three of the enemy to the front, five to the left, and two to the right. All you have is a 75 foot rope and a bayonet. What do you do?

Correct answer is one word: ATTACK.

Regards, Gary in Sandy Eggo