We knew the Imperial was a
fighter when the doors had to be kicked off -- even
after the hinges had been removed. |
The Imperial really was a car that did not want to die. It
challenged us at every turn. The door hinges alone weighed
some 30 pounds apiece and could have supported the Brooklyn
Bridge. Even after we removed all the mounting bolts -- some
four per hinge more than usual -- the doors still didn't want
to come off. Strong man Crecco finally karate-kicked them
loose. Yup, this was one car that was going to go down fighting
—- if it was going to go down at all.
Each section of Imperial that we managed to hack off was
like a small victory, which we celebrated by recording the
car's new weight and quarter-mile times. Progress was painfully
slow, and the Imp was wearing us down. E-Booger figured we
could speed things up by peeling the entire rear section of
the body off the frame, from just behind the driver's seat
back to the rear bumper. Removing all the body bolts, and
cutting on the dotted line from rocker to rocker, we were
stopped dead in our tracks by bumper bolts that cleaved to
the frame in a weird mechanical death grip.
The Booger figured we could attach the rear body section
to some stationary object and simply drive the chassis out
from underneath it. He pointed to one of the Raceway Park
light poles. But, I could see the pole collapsing before
the car would give up its hindparts.
Then I spotted the trailer section of a tractor-trailer rig
parked at the edge of the pits. That's what we use, I said.
We borrowed a length of heavy chain that was hanging on one
of E-Town's pieces of earth moving equipment, and connected
the Imp's body to the trailer. But the normally fearless Booger,
and strong man Crecco both declined the driving chores. There
was no telling what might happen. That left me to get into
the (literally) hot seat. "Just put it in Low and punch
it," chuckled the tech guru bubbling over with friendly
advice.
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The Imp had no roof at this point, and as I punched the
Low button and gunned it, I braced myself for the unknown
-- like something really heavy to land on my head and crush
my skull. The car leaped forward and then bogged for an instant
as the chain went taut and the entire back of the body tore
off and sailed 20-feet in the air. It landed upside down,
with 15-year old gasoline pouring from the smashed tank.
We installed a 2-gallon jug in front of the radiator to supply
the go-juice.
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