Now, I don't normally remember a lot of detail in my dreams, and I rarely dream about building things. That said, I woke up with a bolt-by-bolt memory of building and driving a little track roadster.
The flatty was nearly stock, save for a set of Edelbrock heads and a two-pot manifold. It was pretty gutless, and the dry-lakes gearing didn't do that ol' three speed any favors as I slipped the clutch to get it rolling around the streets of Ventura. A deep bellypan allowed me to sit low in the bucket body, down between the rails. Loads of patina - only the newly fabbed parts in primer. The track nose was sloping with a low, eliptical opening. A big steering wheel looked like it started out on a farm truck or tractor. The wheels were 17" spokes with tall and taller skinny blackwalls. The home-made bucket seats were well-worn leather on padded plywood forms... no aluminum bomber seats for this ride.
I don't know - maybe it's a vision of the futute, or maybe it's just what I wish my latest soapbox project could be.
