Bit by the bug

[Hotdogand6pack]

When I bought my Z from Charley, I swore to myself that I would never abuse her. I swore I would only cruise her. I swore that I'd only enjoy her beauty and elegance on the street. I swore to myself I would only adorn her with beauty and show her to the world. I would be a gentle proprietor, Dress her up nice and let her be what she is, eye candy. Little did I know that she was a dirty little woman and that I had entered into a deal with the Devil...

It was three days after pulling her out of the trailer that I waited. Three days of bated breath before I took her out. Three days until I experienced her climactic screams above 6000. It was on that third day that I knew I was unequivocally in love.

She was my secret. One which that I musn't share. Sure everyone had inklings about her, but she was mine. I hid her talents away lest I was the only one to fully experience her to her full. She taught me much, but she was mine and her lessons were for me alone. I would find myself quivering at the thought of her touch, quivering at the adrenaline which coursed through my veins when I gave myself to her.

We bonded as I thoroughly massaged into her skin the lotions which made her glisten, over, and over, and over again. I could hear her cooing to my gentle touch all the while my mind spun progressively deeper into thoughts of her exalted screams.

I had for months considered her a treasure, one to be kept locked in a chest for safe keeping. But the mere thought of her kept hidden irked me in a manner which beckoned me to call he forth and present her. That thought persisted through the winter as I could hear her calling, but to no avail. She was in my dreams, my thoughts, my being as a whole. Her calling I could endure no more. She was my Mistress and it was my duty to satisfy her desires as much as it was hers to satisfy mine.

She cooed and rumbled every time I started her over the winter but not so much as the day she knew she was leaving her confinement. She purred. she sang the most eloquent song the entire way home. She knew she was loved, and she showed it. She received her full lavish treatment of new fluids and filters and pomp and circumstance and she reveled in it. But all the wile she had her leg out with the luring finger pointing at the throttle.

I persisted in my reluctance, but to no avail. Her claws were too deeply set into my skin and I was too eager to experience the thousand natural shocks which flesh is heir to. Her call was resounding and my resilience too weak. I had no choice but to sign up for Watkins Glen.

[EWest]

Ummm...yeah - Glad you enjoy your Z.

[Paul Workman]

I'm always looking for members that write well and can inspire to write articles for the News Letter. Well, I'm not sure I'm reading a ZR-1 forum or a "crotch novel", but you definitely can write!

Well, the next step is a "make-over", FBI style!

[WB9MCW]

Very nice -- you did a great job on the inner thoughts we all (well most of us) have with the Z and the LT-5. She does make a good "Mistress" indeed.

Definition of MISTRESS
1: a woman who has power, authority, or ownership: as
a : the female head of a household
b : a woman who employs or supervises servants
c : a woman who is in charge of a school or other establishment
d : a woman of the Scottish nobility having a status comparable to that of a master

2: a chiefly British : a female teacher or tutor
b : a woman who has achieved mastery in some field

3: something personified as female that rules, directs, or dominates <when Rome was mistress of the world>

4a : a woman other than his wife with whom a married man has a continuing sexual relationship
b archaic : sweetheart

5a —used archaically as a title prefixed to the name of a married or unmarried woman
b chiefly Southern & Midland : mrs. 1a

[Hotdogand6pack]

For some, the Z is just a piece of hardware much like a wrench or a door hinge. For those like me, born in 84, it was a dream. I was't interested in Testarossa's, or Countaches or Diablo's. It was the ZR-1. Screw the Eurotrash, the Z was home grown and bred and made the rest look at their own folly. Sure the engine was British and built by a boat manufacturer. But at that time it was proudly accepted to utilise the talents and expertise of multicultural and multinational engineers to design superior products versus the xenophobic attitudes of the modern world. And for those who merely look at a Z as an assemblage of fiberglass, metal, and plastic, sell it to someone who truly appreciates it. I saved every penny I had for 10 years to buy and bring to fruition, my dream. Sure the c6 z06 and zr1 put it to shame performance wise. But that's not the point. Nobody has those posters on the wall, nobody growing up is telling themselves that 'someday, it will be mine.' They are but a fleeting fancy. But the C4 ZR-1, well that's the real deal. That's the dream that I am living that I spent so long to enjoy. 'Some day it will be mine.' Some dreams come true.

[EWest]

Help me, Jeebus!

[EWest]

Couldn't agree with you more about the dream of owning a Zr1. I was born in '76, so my early years of high school coincided with the Z's birth. While others were drooling over the high 14s a Mustang 5.0 could run, I had other ideas. I can remember flipping to the back of Motor Trend where they listed performance numbers of reviewed cars, and being blown away at the low 4s and 13s they had recorded for the Zr1. Someday it would be mine. 20 years later, my dream came true. Every time I think about it, I can't help but smile. Now if I could just get a damn 5.0 to roll up next to me...

[rhipsher]

Originally Posted by Hotdogand6pack

When I bought my Z from Charley, I swore to myself that I would never abuse her. I swore I would only cruise her. I swore that I'd only enjoy her beauty and elegance on the street. I swore to myself I would only adorn her with beauty and show her to the world. I would be a gentle proprietor, Dress her up nice and let her be what she is, eye candy. Little did I know that she was a dirty little woman and that I had entered into a deal with the Devil...

It was three days after pulling her out of the trailer that I waited. Three days of bated breath before I took her out. Three days until I experienced her climactic screams above 6000. It was on that third day that I knew I was unequivocally in love.

She was my secret. One which that I musn't share. Sure everyone had inklings about her, but she was mine. I hid her talents away lest I was the only one to fully experience her to her full. She taught me much, but she was mine and her lessons were for me alone. I would find myself quivering at the thought of her touch, quivering at the adrenaline which coursed through my veins when I gave myself to her.

We bonded as I thoroughly massaged into her skin the lotions which made her glisten, over, and over, and over again. I could hear her cooing to my gentle touch all the while my mind spun progressively deeper into thoughts of her exalted screams.

I had for months considered her a treasure, one to be kept locked in a chest for safe keeping. But the mere thought of her kept hidden irked me in a manner which beckoned me to call he forth and present her. That thought persisted through the winter as I could hear her calling, but to no avail. She was in my dreams, my thoughts, my being as a whole. Her calling I could endure no more. She was my Mistress and it was my duty to satisfy her desires as much as it was hers to satisfy mine.

She cooed and rumbled every time I started her over the winter but not so much as the day she knew she was leaving her confinement. She purred. she sang the most eloquent song the entire way home. She knew she was loved, and she showed it. She received her full lavish treatment of new fluids and filters and pomp and circumstance and she reveled in it. But all the wile she had her leg out with the luring finger pointing at the throttle.

I persisted in my reluctance, but to no avail. Her claws were too deeply set into my skin and I was too eager to experience the thousand natural shocks which flesh is heir to. Her call was resounding and my resilience too weak. I had no choice but to sign up for Watkins Glen.

Its OK to love a car but if you catch yourself driving it naked then its gone to far.

[Fully Vetted]

Originally Posted by EWest

...I can remember flipping to the back of Motor Trend where they listed performance numbers of reviewed cars, and being blown away at the low 4s and 13s they had recorded for the Zr1.

I was thinking about that the other day. I wish they would bring that back. I could spend an hour bench racing with that list. I remember, like you, looking at the number the ZR-1, Viper, and Callaways would put up thinking, "How much faster can we go?" And now look at the numbers. Sub 3 sec 0-60 times from a Nissan for crying out loud.

And here I am again 20 years later asking, "How much faster can we go?"

[LancePearson]

David,
Like it or not, boost, boost, boost....whine, whistle and huge horsepower. Will they last, be trouble free relatively? I have my concerns and wonder about the merits in general of over 600 hp in anything of a car nature but it is what it is. In my view the GM folks at Corvette are getting bypassed sticking with the two valve pushrod and thinking 455 hp is just reason to buy a new C7 Vette. Heck, our tuned Z's beat a non tuned modern supercharged zr1 already at 638 hp. Kids just don't buy our cars anymore. a ricer, add a turbo or two and a big exhaust and tune it. Cheaper and they like it just fine.

Me, I love my 1991 Z but the 1/2 mile in Chicago really opened my eyes. We aren't that fast anymore relatively as we are naturally aspirated. However, my car is way more than fast enough for me so it does not matter but facts being what they are, we simply aren't anywhere near the top of the heap with this technology.

The question is: is the heap worth fighting for to go faster? Depends on your views, not worth it for me. Besides, I'd rather hear a rumble than either a whine or a whistle. Not a fighter jet pilot, a car owner who likes sound, wind and speed. Old fart is the other way to say it but I is what I is and I likes it.