The Smoke

The convention's meetings, events and vendor displays helped Rick keep his mind off the Concours results. In the picture at right, he shares a moment with the guru of the small-block Chevy engine, Smokey Yunick. He had briefly met Smokey at the Charlotte AutoFair years earlier, and this time he was able to spend more time with him and collect an autographed poster for his shop.

"The Smoke's forgotten more about the small-block than most people will ever know," Rick told me. "It was an honor to meet him."

"I just had to get some photos of the 'vair in front of Smokey's shop," Rick told me. "Although it is rather unimposing, I think about the innovation and history that came out of there; all the famous go-fast hot shoes and engineering types along with the wannabes... probably a few babes, too!"

Rick took me along for the ride to Smokey's, as I also attended the convention (see the feature on Corvair Speedweek in the Extra! section). I too was struck by a sense of awe standing out in front of the Best Damn Garage In Town.

I had spotted and photographed the Corv-8 on arrival at the convention on Wednesday, the day before the Concours. I found Rick in the host hotel restaurant, and was itching to ask him for a ride, but decided to wait until after the competition. On Friday morning, we met again, I asked, and a few minutes later, we strapped ourselves in for a tour in the near 100 degree heat and humidity of midday Daytona. The car performed flawlessly, and we managed to find a  spot to safely make a full throttle pass through the gears to the red line in high. With approximately 340 horsepower at the crankshaft and 258 SAE net horsepower at the rear wheels, it made sweet music and sent our cheeks back into our ears. This sucker hauls ass!

The car is an attention-getter, too. While we sedately cruised a residential neighborhood for a scenic spot to take a few pictures, a local resident jumped out of his lawn chair, into his ride and headed in the direction of our disappearing white chariot. He came along a couple of minutes after we stopped, and enthusiastically blurted, "I knew it was a Corvair, but when I heard the exhaust, I had to take a closer look."

While he and Rick traded high performance chatter, it occurred to me that this was the perfect therapy for a man waiting for the Concours results to be announced the following evening at the CORSA banquet.