They're going the distance...

I pulled up to a red light behind a Nissan Sentra on the Boulevard this morning. Then, up the side, came a Toyota Corolla. This was an open challenge to the one who sat at the light, little did I know what was about to unfold. What pure, unfettered excitement played out that cloudy morning on the Boulevard.

The Nissan was a real go-er, I could tell by the plastic wing lovingly retaped to the trunk lid with some fine 200mph tape. The windows were tinted, one could only imagine the steely eyes of the grisled racer, peering out through slits into the cockpit of the adjoining car. The ground thudded with the thunder of the bass tubes in the trunk, whose awesome power may or may not have caused the wing to rattle loose. The windshield was cracked. An obvious racing affliction, it rose up from the base, where the single red wiper blade sat, all the way up to the mirrored tint of the top part of the windshield. All four cylinders revved mightily once, then twice, and once more before it sputtered to a halt. It became clearly evident that this motor was built for speed, and it was displeased with sitting idle. It was quickly restarted and hummed out through the giant muffle tip, it roared with the intensity of a hundred weed whackers. The water dripping from the muffler glistened on the pavement. He meant business.

The Toyota was the sleeper of this particular drag. With two knocked out tail lights, it was obvious that this driver had no need for tail lights, it was just another thing for his poor enemy to look at as he sped away. The back window proudly displayed that this person was a student in good standing at Gateway Community Technical College, and a small sticker in the corner which belied this cars nature...three letters, TRO, the moniker of the Toyota Racing Operations, and I instantly sensed that this was to be no normal race. No, the victor would surely earn this one. The car carried out the sleeper theme all the way down to undoubtedly original tires, bald for better drag traction. It exhaled through the stock exhaust which was disconnected from the catalytic converter back, while the rest dragged on the street. This driver was smart, I saw, with less restriction in the exhaust, his engine would undoubtedly crest the 80 horsepower mark.

Somewhere betwixt the uneven idle of the Sentra and the coughing exhaust of the Corolla lay the secret, both drivers striving to find it. The pilot of the Corolla sneered at the dark tints of the Nissan, and pointed to the traffic light, then a ways down the road. The driver of the Sentra once again revved his motor, and once again, it died. It grudgingly started, no doubt frustrated from not being pushed to its maximum physical limits.

It was on. The driver of the Corolla put down his cup of coffee and shoved the car into first gear. The Sentra's stereo was shut off; the silence, save the low grumbling of the tailpipes, was awe inspiring. The quiet before the storm, one might say. In an instant, the light changed. The tree turned green and the cars were off. They lurched forward, the Toyota belching a cloud of smoke into the air from its sickly exhaust system. The Nissan, nearly dying for a third time, almost stalled, then took off again. The split second was all the Toyota needed to edge out the Sentra. As they raced and reached speeds in excess of 35 miles per hour, the Sentra began to catch up with the Toyota, i could hear every cubic inch of that motor buzzing out through that muffler tip, it was a beautiful thing.

Mmm...the smell of 87 octane blended with the rotten egg smell of a bad catalytic converter made me glad that I was an American. The Sentra, hurtling through the morning air, shook it's wing loose like so much chaff in the wind. The next intersection was coming up, and the light was green. They were neck and neck, sloppy car bra to sloppy car bra...Then tradedy struck. The steady Braaaappp of the Nissan stopped, and the car screeched to a halt in the middle of the street, engulfed in a white cloud of steam and burning Prestone. The Toyota continued down the straightaway, and on to Victory Road. The driver of the Nissan got out of his car and walked solemnly to where the wing that he had shed landed. He cursed and threw it in the back seat, watching as the Toyota disappeared over the next hill, nearly clipping a school bus. It's a shame to win like that, but someone had to. It was apparent that the Toyota was just the better machine today, and I'm sure that these two men, nay, these two warriors, will be back to do battle tomorrow.