Originally Posted By: Stuart Hughes
Circa 1970: My car was an honest to goodness 1957 Chevy Bel-Air 2-dr HT.(Talk about cars I should have kept!
) It had been converted from the factory PowerGlide ATx to a 3-speed manual trans, with the world's oldest Hurst Shifter on it. Engine, 283 ci V8 with Carter WCFB 4-bbl carb- with oil bath air cleaner! Those who knew for sure assured me it had the good PowerPak heads on it. It was no screamer, but fairly healthy for a high school boy's car. Tires were whatever bias plys were around in the stock 14" size- poor choices for high speed running or cornering. Heck, I used to run Sears recaps on it.
Heading north out of my tiny hometown was a long staight stretch of 2-lane highway that went downhill for about a mile, then uphill with a curve at the hilltop- where you could also turn off the road to the local small hospital! Late one night I'd spotted the local police at the other end of town a few minutes before, & opened the Chevy up.
About halfway up the hill the speedo read ~105 mph. I backed off the gas pedal- and the throttle hung wide open! All I could think of was to turn off the ignition, and did so. The inside of the car instantly lit up from all the fire shooting out of the rear added-on glasspacks dual exhaust. I made it safely around the hilltop curve, but not by much. Got it shut down past the bottom of the far side of the hill, on the next straight stretch leading to a small bridge. Whew!
I found & fixed the throttle problem the next day. But I didn't do anything that fast & stupid again for a very long time.
Insert Toyota Recall joke here.
