The Retrospective - I
Late December, 2004. After sitting in a driveway in a New Jersey suburb for over 6 months, it was time to rescue the rally car. We had established ourselves in California, which meant we had no extra money, no place to work on a car, and no idea what we were about to get ourselves into. The rally car was calling - at this point it was ‘my’ rally car, but she would soon become part of the family.
In exceptional diligence, Christine’s Dad went out every couple of weeks and started the Neon. He told me later that he would drive it around the block and let her warm up a bit, instead of just opening the door - starting it - going back inside and forgetting about it for 10 minutes. I’m sure at one point he thought - “Why is anyone putting any effort into a 1996 Dodge Neon?” What I know is that Don is a car guy and knows about the special little relationships that we build with our machines. He treated my special project like he would one of his and made sure that when I arrived she would chug to life.
Soon enough, we would be on the road with my project rally car. The Dodge Neon has all the elegance of your sisters commuter car. It gets close to 30MPG, it starts and runs with little to no oil in the motor, it has a crappy radio, and it’s cute. I really don’t know how the tuners at Mopar slipped in a 2.0L 130HP block with a almost straight back 2.5″ exhaust. How did they convince New Venture to build them a transmission that could handle 250 horse power? Why would you waste rotors and beefy calipers on a car that would be parked on every college campus parking lot for the next ten years? How many “princess” license plate frames does it take to cover up a car that dominated autocross for well over 6 years? How many drunk parties ended up in the back seat of a cramped Neon? Bodies trying to wedge between rear strut towers that would make this economic jellybean one of the best handling cars in the 90’s. It’s when Neons started showing up at the track, with testosterone at the wheel, and men admitting to the fact that - yes - they drive a Neon, that’s when the Dodge Neon was written into a niche of weird automotive history. Not just as a passing class or two, but with an SCCA spec series! What first drew my eye to the Neon was something like - “Hey, that’s cute. Let’s JUMP it!”
I pulled the cover off her and backed down the driveway. A creaking groan came from the rusted rotors when I made a hard stop at the end of the street. I could hear every valve opening and closing “rash tick, rash tick, rash tick”. It was dark and about 30 degrees outside. First gear engaged with a satisfying clunk and I was happy to be driving a standard again. It’s a very literal exciting feeling. The connection from body to gears, from clutch to engine. No car has ever made me feel more like this then my rally car. A sense of joy and excitement as I make the transition to second gear. The frozen air helping to make the little engine feel like a thousand horse power. The continued push of acceleration as I shift again to keep it under three thousand RPM’s. My gentle care used as I begin to warm up the block. After cruising for a few minutes I pull onto Route 22 and open the throttle. A quick blast through the woods that makes you feel great. Full throttle quick shifts, and hard decelerations at intersections that press you against the belts.
Pulling in for gas I catch a glimpse of a red light on the dash. I look down at the cluster and see nothing. Subsequent study reveals it’s the oil light. Now I’m about to drive a car across the county with an oil problem? Total emotional nose dive. The ‘what if’s’ run through my head as I check the oil for look, smell, and level. The attendants give me funny looks as I’m driving a red and white Dodge Neon with a roll cage in it, and actually out of my car in freezing weather under the hood smelling my dipstick. This is New Jersey, no one gets out to pump gas, and I am a stranger here. This ends my fun little trip to warm up the car and I take a slow direct cruise back to the house.
The next morning, closer inspection doesn’t really calm fears, but we’re off to Maine to visit my parents and I held the attitude that - if something is going to happen to the motor it will be in the next 300 miles. The oil pressure sensor is simply a switch. Oil pressure = YES. If you don’t have oil pressure, soon enough the whirling bits will stop spinning. There are unique cases, but for the most part, oil pressure doesn’t gradually go away over a hundred miles. You either have it or you don’t. You’re either moving, or your not.
We start moving early and get into the rhythm of driving and navigating. A laptop and speakers are crammed in along with a separate USB hard drive holding all 13GB of my music. Christine avoids the laptop as it’s taking up room on her side and blocking vents. The GPS puck connected to the laptop is finicky and doesn’t like to power up right away. We play with it a little, but we know the way by heart, so it’s powered off and shoved in the back. Before getting there, we need to make a little detour to New Hampshire and pick up some new skins.
Continued soon…
What’s been happening and what’s planned for the rallynotes.com rally team?
We’ll see you on the stages!
Texas once again disappointed me this morning. For years I’ve been telling people this cute story about how they have shamrock shakes YEAR ROUND at the McDonald’s in Shamrock Texas. Lies. Damn lies…