I finally arrived at the Bristol Track around 1:30pm after my detour. But of course, its not a solo road trip, unless I arrive with some sort of whacky or great story to tell. This trip is no exception.
Shortly after I stopped for gas outside of Nashville, I ran into another black Mustang… A 99, with some good sounding exhaust and cobra wheels. Well, I noticed he had a radar detector, and I was having fun playing chase with him down I-40. Cat and mouse… he’d take off, get through traffic, and I hang with him. Or I’d take the lead for awhile and play too. At one point, I pulled along side him with a note written on a piece of paper:
“GOING TO FFW?”
I figured that a car with Virginia plates, with cool exhaust, headed the same direction had a good chance of going to the same place. But he yelled back that he didn’t know what this was and I told him it was a race in Bristol (all while doing 80 mph down the interstate). I wasn’t sure how long he’d be going my way…. but he hung with me all through Knoxville and onto I-81 before he got off on exit 10 or so. I waved and he threw his hands up as I passed as if to asks why I didn’t stop. I was running late, and I had to get to the track. Oh well, now I had to slow down to 80 mph since my radar detector and new found road buddy had abandoned me.
That is until he came flying back up on me around 40 miles later. (figure out that equation on how fast he had to be traveling to do THAT, math whizzes!) This time, he had a note, it said:
“HAD 2 PEE”.
Too funny! I about pee’d my own pants I was laughing so hard.
Sadly, he got too far ahead of me in traffic right before my exit, so my new friend didn’t get a good bye. Darn! And I was going to try and convince him to go to the race!
