‘Course, we needed a car. We figured a big car was better than one of those small tinny imports, so we “borrowed” (which helped keep expenses well within our allotted budget) a 4600-pound Dodge Monaco that the owner had done up to look like the Bluesmobile. Following the broken-English directions that came with the JATO kit, we wired (OK, we did break down and use some bolts) the 80-pound rocket to the roof, rigged the “string pull go” cable to the igniter, and pumped our tires to the maximum pressure that was indicated on the sidewall to minimize rolling resistance.

We were set. We had our crew (some migrant farm workers who thought they were going to pick grapes) and our test track (a deserted stretch of Route 30 in upstate New York). One of the farm workers, Pancho something or other, said that he knew how to drive, so we put him behind the wheel and gave him specific instructions on what to do, including pulling the “string pull go cable” at the desired time.

We tell Pancho that we’re doing emissions and fuel mileage testing for the EPA, who wants to learn if speeds over 250 MPH will save on gas and cut down on unburned hydrocarbons. We offer Pancho a small bonus over his usual day rate, because we’re just good guys. We even rent him a helmet. Then we take up our photo position.

Pancho something or other decided that picking grapes for an entire day was better than driving for 20 seconds—for the same amount of pay. Go figure!

Pancho cranks up the 440 so he can use the power steering and brakes which would not be operable under JATO power alone. We have our team, equipped with radios and radar guns, positioned at the one, two, three and four-mile markers, so we can keep track of Pancho’s progress.

Pancho takes off and pulls the “string pull go” cable at about the 1/8-mile mark. The JATO is supposed to give us about 1000 pounds of thrust (some 25,000 horsepower) for 12-15 seconds. There’s a loud bang, and The Monaco accelerates rapidly—very rapidly, in fact. Pancho is holding the car remarkably straight at 205.6 MPH as he passes the one-mile marker. Everything looks good for a really great run...except for the dip.

We hadn’t noticed the dip at about the 1-1/2 mile mark when we first inspected our “test track,” and set up our Detour signs. But, something that might appear insignificant at 60 MPH, takes on a whole new perspective at 260 MPH. You should keep that in mind with your own driving.

Pancho hits the dip, the suspension unloads and the Monaco is now airborne—and Pancho doesn’t have a pilot’s license. Boy, is he gonna be in trouble with the FAA.

We call our guy stationed at the 2-mile mark. No, Pancho never came this way, but something flew overhead behind him pretty low. We jump into our chase car and scream down Route 30. Then we see it. The Monaco, or what’s left of it, is sticking ass end out of Bucky Green’s home that his forefathers had hand-hewed out of selected cigar box wood. It’s listed in a national registry of some sort.

Pancho, surprisingly, is unscathed--which is more than we can say for the Monaco. We pry away the splinters of wood, help Pancho out of the car and collect our helmet rental fee. We feel satisfied that our escapade has proved something, but we’re not quite sure exactly what. The crew is satisfied after we pay them their $6 full day rate, even though they’ve only worked a half-day.

And Pancho? He’s gonna stick to just picking grapes.

Cliff Notes [8-29-05] So you want to be an automotive journalist, eh?