Jan 10, 2021
This post was inspired by Slownstddys drag race post. Unfortunately, this story is from a time before youtube and dash cams proliferated, so I'll have to relay it in written form.
I was once challenged to a race in my dads old 88. It was a red with white stripe dual tone, automatic with the 5.0. The competition was a 2000s Lincoln Mk LT. The race, a 10 mile sprint from the outskirts of town back to downtown. We lined up, locked eyes... and slammed the pedal to the medal. Tires chirped, the heavy Bronco lurched back on its rear wheels desperately searching for grip. Immediately they pulled away, and through the twists and turns I quickly lost sight of them. They gapped us so badly that after after losing sight of us in the rear view, they eventually pulled over thinking we broke down or crashed. Slowly but surely however, we were still charging up from behind, gaining speed the entire time. Eventually I hit a straight away that allowed me to get up to 85, the last number on the speedo, when something strange happened. The Speedometer needle suddenly rolled backwards to about the 3 oclock position, and then proceeded to rise again, indicating that we were somehow still gaining speed. In an incredible testament to Ford Tough engineering, we had just broken the fabled Bronco Speed limit.... 90...95.... 100! Before I knew it we had caught my friends and completely blew their doors off as we roared past them and into the lead.
It didn't take long for them to catch us, but now it was time for driving skill to win the day. Finally in the lead, I knew I could never outrun them, so I used every inch of that fullsize body to block the twisty, 2-lane country road and keep them from passing. Left, right, left right, we jostled for position with him on my tailgate the entire time. We played cat and mouse for awhile as I tried to keep him at bay. I anticipated every move he made, frustrating him at every turn. My strategy was flawless, until he did something I wasn't prepared for.... I left him an inch too much and he found a hole big enough to squeeze the LT onto the shoulder, somehow avoiding wiping out in the ditch he retook the lead. That was it, it was over. He shot off and I knew there was no way I could catch him... until one final unexpected turn. Literally actually, he turned a street too early, which took him in the wrong direction. I was still in the race!
I pressed forward towards a T intersection, a car unexpectedly stopped for a yellow light, directly in my path. I slammed the tired brakes and locked the wheels desperately trying to stop. It wasn't enough, I turned the wheels towards the sidewalk and narrowly avoided disaster. Our heads snapped forward as we bounced up the curb, just slow enough. No damage done.The car drove away and I quickly followed and passed him. I took a left to get off the main road and out of sight... I was almost there. The downtown loop was our destination, a parking lot designating the finish line.... and it was empty! I pulled in screeching to a stop, adrenaline rushing and in complete disbelief. I turned off the engine and pumped my first in sweet, sweet victory!
A couple minutes later my friend pulled up absolutely livid. He called bullshit, and said there was no way I should have beaten him, and he was right.... if it was a drag race. But he took that wrong turn, got confused and lost it in the final mile, and it was just enough for me to catch him again and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. We decided to part, just in case we had attracted unwanted attention, I turned the key... and nothing. The Bronco refused, overexerted and overheated, she made us wait. My heart sank, and my head dropped, resting on the steering wheel. Had I pushed the Bronco too hard? I sat there waiting, and after 10 minutes I tried again, and this time she reluctantly agreed. Yes! I rolled out and made it home, victorous
It was one of the greatest races in Bronco history. Not since Bill Stroppes Bronco won the Baja 1000 has there been a more cunning and improbable victory. I proved that day that speed isn't everything, and even an old truck can surprise you with the right driver.
I was once challenged to a race in my dads old 88. It was a red with white stripe dual tone, automatic with the 5.0. The competition was a 2000s Lincoln Mk LT. The race, a 10 mile sprint from the outskirts of town back to downtown. We lined up, locked eyes... and slammed the pedal to the medal. Tires chirped, the heavy Bronco lurched back on its rear wheels desperately searching for grip. Immediately they pulled away, and through the twists and turns I quickly lost sight of them. They gapped us so badly that after after losing sight of us in the rear view, they eventually pulled over thinking we broke down or crashed. Slowly but surely however, we were still charging up from behind, gaining speed the entire time. Eventually I hit a straight away that allowed me to get up to 85, the last number on the speedo, when something strange happened. The Speedometer needle suddenly rolled backwards to about the 3 oclock position, and then proceeded to rise again, indicating that we were somehow still gaining speed. In an incredible testament to Ford Tough engineering, we had just broken the fabled Bronco Speed limit.... 90...95.... 100! Before I knew it we had caught my friends and completely blew their doors off as we roared past them and into the lead.
It didn't take long for them to catch us, but now it was time for driving skill to win the day. Finally in the lead, I knew I could never outrun them, so I used every inch of that fullsize body to block the twisty, 2-lane country road and keep them from passing. Left, right, left right, we jostled for position with him on my tailgate the entire time. We played cat and mouse for awhile as I tried to keep him at bay. I anticipated every move he made, frustrating him at every turn. My strategy was flawless, until he did something I wasn't prepared for.... I left him an inch too much and he found a hole big enough to squeeze the LT onto the shoulder, somehow avoiding wiping out in the ditch he retook the lead. That was it, it was over. He shot off and I knew there was no way I could catch him... until one final unexpected turn. Literally actually, he turned a street too early, which took him in the wrong direction. I was still in the race!
I pressed forward towards a T intersection, a car unexpectedly stopped for a yellow light, directly in my path. I slammed the tired brakes and locked the wheels desperately trying to stop. It wasn't enough, I turned the wheels towards the sidewalk and narrowly avoided disaster. Our heads snapped forward as we bounced up the curb, just slow enough. No damage done.The car drove away and I quickly followed and passed him. I took a left to get off the main road and out of sight... I was almost there. The downtown loop was our destination, a parking lot designating the finish line.... and it was empty! I pulled in screeching to a stop, adrenaline rushing and in complete disbelief. I turned off the engine and pumped my first in sweet, sweet victory!
A couple minutes later my friend pulled up absolutely livid. He called bullshit, and said there was no way I should have beaten him, and he was right.... if it was a drag race. But he took that wrong turn, got confused and lost it in the final mile, and it was just enough for me to catch him again and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. We decided to part, just in case we had attracted unwanted attention, I turned the key... and nothing. The Bronco refused, overexerted and overheated, she made us wait. My heart sank, and my head dropped, resting on the steering wheel. Had I pushed the Bronco too hard? I sat there waiting, and after 10 minutes I tried again, and this time she reluctantly agreed. Yes! I rolled out and made it home, victorous
It was one of the greatest races in Bronco history. Not since Bill Stroppes Bronco won the Baja 1000 has there been a more cunning and improbable victory. I proved that day that speed isn't everything, and even an old truck can surprise you with the right driver.
TorgSurv, Jakob1972