CHAPTER NINE Doing It  Go To Main Table  Go To More Book Chapters

Homily of the Rally Master

                By George J. Kimble


“Hearken!” The Wicked Rally Master Pleads

“Lords and Ladies of Iron and Fiberglass Steeds

Each crook and bend alas uncharted

Will menace those not lion hearted”


“Before thee looms an adventure of epic proportion

Which hath signs of deviltry and distortion

Fair thee well to enumerate and reckon

All attribute and symbol that may gravely beckon”


“You must go forth at your appointed hour

Stray not, and avoid temptation of excessive horsepower

Fortify your beings against doubtful whim

You must consummate ere the day light falls dim”


“Though the itinerary is branched and winding,

To the pathway your oath is binding

Godspeed and safety do not forsake

Amid pestilence of traffic contemplate the brake”


“If you covet to drink from the victory chalice

Unto thyne rivals promote no malice

For each antagonist hath his own hell to pay

To toil over scrolls and documents along the way


“Prudence ‘tis eminently the surest keeper

That shields the contestant from the reaper

Yet, indecision and vacillation, plague the meek

Thus, pilots must consult navigators and wisdom seek”


“If may haps you are lost and filled with anguish

Unfurl the panic scabbard and extinguish

No shame will befall your grace

Others may carry the same shadow upon their face”


“Crusaders abreast your smoldering mounts

Now, Know ye, every heartbeat counts

Tarry not, while abundant clue you contemplate

Time is of the essence, do not be late”


“The quest of the byways is upon us nigh

Within thyne route no missionary can hear your cry

Into awesome sojourns, tempestuous neophytes blindly fly

Toward the marauders keep ever-watchful thyne naked eye


One second of thought ‘tis oft most sly

Some, assuredly will partake of the crow baked within the pie

‘Tis abject to conspire unto lies

Amass, Lords and Ladies, endeavor unto the rally, your noblest try”


Some Like It Hot

                By George J. Kimble

Blinding bright Sun

Great day for Corvette fun

Heat waves shimmering over blacktop

Small butterflies fluttering, won’t stop

Air off, Five point tight

Full face secure, wait for the green light

Tached up, Deep breath, inhale

Launch! Squawl, Smoke, don’t lose the tail

Brake Heel, Toe gas

Up shift, turn right, pedal down, kick ass

Turn some more, brake, right pedal down

Up shift, turn in, turn out, rear end comes around

Tight gate!

Not too late

Brake, gear down, gear down, brake harder

Rumble! Smoke! Gotta drive smarter

Gas, more gas, up gear, up gear, don’t swerve

Turn in, tighter, full lock, test your nerve

More power, more gas, apex reached

Break loose, Screech!

Brake, down shift, down shift, other lock,

Loud rumble, Shaking! Depressed shocks

Paste it, up shift, turn left, now turn hard right

Brake, down shift, front end is too damned tight

Turn, turn more, damn it more

Flog it to the floor

Stop! Squeals!

Now you know how a Rat in a Drainpipe feels

Check time! You did all right

You are FTD, smile of delight.

Now get back in line

Try to do a better time

All this in a Parking lot

Wow, some like it Hot!

Rice Anyone?

                By George J. Kimble


It was June of '89 or maybe it was '90

The weather was hot and the Sun was shinny

I had just bought the black Chevy truck

And my '89 Vette still had the new look


My son and I loaded the Vette onto the trailer

It was polished, cleaned, and under a cover custom tailored

Our destination was Bowling Green, Kentucky

To try win the Corvette Home Coming Show, if we were lucky


We arrived at our destination, Beech Bend Park

The sun was setting, it was getting dark

We dropped the Vette at the show field

Then to the camping area the truck we wheeled


Preparing to sleep there under the stars

We marveled at the vast number of Corvette cars

Hundreds parked under the shade trees

And at the gate a line as far as we could see


My, 15 year old, son was filled with fret

The perceived competition had him a nervous wreck

I consoled him, we still had one more day

The judging wasn't scheduled until Sunday


Saturday morning came covered with dew

Everything was wet even our shoes

We drove the pick-up to get something to eat

My son was still worried about the Vette getting beat


We sat near a window eating eggs and toast

The Corvettes were arriving from coast to coast

We returned to the park without making a stop

The vendors were now open and I decided to shop


Still worried my son began to wail

He might have forgotten to polish some minor detail

He ran back to the Vette and removed the cover

If anything was missed he was going to discover


He was all over that Vette like a duck on a bug

He crawled inside and vacuumed the rugs

Then in the distance we heard a roar

Like a fighter jet starting to soar

A racing Vette's burners were fully lit

I hollered," Let's see what's up with it"

We jumped into the truck and drove to the side of the park

On our way there, we passed an original Mako Shark


My son yelled, "What's going on?", To some one who looked official

He replied, "Corvette Challenge", Quick as a whistle

Our eyes popped out, when we saw the staging lanes

My son poked me and said, "Pop, That looks kind of lame"


There in the rows of Vettes set a 300 ZX Nissan

"He should not be allowed to get in and run"

But, there were a couple of Mustangs and a GTO too

We wondered if they were going to run through


Again, the official looking guy was questioned

He said, "You can run too, just pay your admission"

My boy wanted to race our Corvette car

But, didn't want to pick up any dirt or tar


Then a light came over his face

"Let's enter the truck, it will be fun to race"

I winced but couldn't resist his look

I drove to the gate and signed the book


I said, "Okay let's give it a shot"

"Boy, if your mother finds out, she is going to be hot"

Then a guy wrote a number on my window

My son was elated, hollering, "Dad let's go!"


We were staged with an '84 Vette

I gambled a 454SS could win, But, I lost that bet

I was excited and my reaction time was poor

We finished with our bumper along side his door


Three runs against Vettes showed similar result

Then we were paired with the ZX, a final insult

"Pop", He said, "losing to Vettes that's OK"

"But, You had better blow that rice burner away"


We left the line in my usual style

He was ahead of us at the eighth mile

Each time he shifted he lost some space

When we reached the line we had won the race


We were happy as two pigs taking a dip

When we pulled up to get our timing slip

Oh, But, not the guy in the Nissan Z

He was mad as hell and screaming at me


He mentioned my ancestors from the past

And screamed that his Z was supposed to be fast

Getting smoked by a truck was such a crock!

Then I told him it was pure stock


Now, On Sunday our Vette won it's class

Our aim for a great weekend had come to pass

The show Judges presented us with a great plaque

But, The rice burner's loss was what we talked about all the back


Many years have came and went

Off to college my son was sent

Still when we see a 300 Z machine

We wonder at the people who don’t drive the American Dream















Muscle Vs. Hustle

                By George J. Kimble


Friday night, five o’clock traffic, Its all jammed

I’m in a hurry. I’ll be damned

I’d like to know the name of the stupid jerk

That laid out the plan for this interstate work


I’ve pointed my Corvette north out of Nashville

I have a date with a road course near Louisville

There is a ton of prep on race day

I do this for the glory not for the pay


I test, I tune, and tires I try

I tweak and adjust to beat the other guy

I want to get there tonight and get some sleep

This line of behemoths is moving at a glacial creep


Three hundred and forty horses under my hood

All that power, and it is doing me no good

Oozing along at a three mile per hour clip

On the horizon the sun is starting to dip


To the right I see a ramp and decide to gamble

Up the darkened exit slowly I ramble

I am not alone when I come to the stop

There is an old Mopar in primer and a ragtop


He turns to the right with a chirp

I think hurry up, Mopar don’t be a jerk

This dark road is narrow, but I’m ready to pass

He lays down rubber and I smell fumes of gas


I keep his winged tail close to my hood

One of his taillights doesn’t work too good

This road is very curvy and not well lit

As I narrow the gap he gives the pedal another hit


We go on like that for several miles

I start to appreciate his driving style

He looks ahead to see if the bends are clear

He crosses lanes and onto the shoulder often veers


This all reminds me of an episode at Watkins Glen

I was just a puppy way back then

I was peddling a 1958 Corvette

Another and I snuck onto the track to settle a bet


My nemesis was a Dodge powered by a Hemi

What I lacked in power, He lost in heavy

I chased him around and around that closed track

He skillfully used it all and kept me in back


Now, this was different because I have plenty of muscle

Everyone knows about Corvettes cornering in a hustle

While handling advantage, now, might be mine

He is a local, and he knows the best line


I chase and dip and nearly rub his rear

I’m glued so tight I can see him smile in his mirror

He’s driving, like a Matador. He has no fear

I’m tossing and turning and using every gear


Miles slip by like a midnight dream

That ol’ Hemi roars like an assassin’s scream

Suddenly we burst onto a straight

I catch sixth gear, the speedo says one thirty eight


I felt he let me pass him, I didn’t know why

There was an upcoming ninety screaming slow down or die

I down loaded the gears in one hell of a hurry

My Corvette began to shudder like a ship in a fury


He dropped to the inside and, in a glance, was past

Though better equipped, in this two-car race, I was last

The Corvette technology saved me from disaster

But, his experience and knowledge crowned him the master


I settled down and began to follow

My Corvette pride I had to swallow

We came to fork, I took left, and he took right

I flashed my high beams, as a salute, to the best driver that night