| Author | Message | ||
     Slaughter |
Confession: I have a fetish. Every time I have destroyed a machine or damaged safety gear that saved me from greater harm, I save a part of it. Not catalogued, indexed and categorized but stuffed back in the shop on the shelves with its sibling-mementos. A friend today (about my size) is going to try some interesting speed runs and needed boots, helmet, leathers and gloves. Easy enough. I am back among the shelves collecting the gear and am caught by the damaged machinery, bits and pieces, cracked and pavement-ground helmets and broken boots... and pause just a moment. The 3 destroyed helmets look back at me next to the piston with the hole burned through the crown (famous last words, "I'm sure I can race on pump gas."), the bent valve and bent pushrod ("What's the rattle? I only have another lap.") And the broken crankcase that got slammed by the swingarm when the engine mount failed under full throttle ("I don't need to change the engine mount, that crash wasn't THAT hard!"). Two of the 3 helmets though can't talk to me the way the bits of machinery can, I can only know what my friends have told me. One piston is missing its twin. It was given to Henry Duga's family on his passing, hand-engraved with my sincere thanks. I felt it was more appropriate than a card or flowers. I pick up the good helmets, two pair of gloves, the racing boots, two sets of leathers and stuff them all into two gear bags and take them to deliver to my buddy for his upcoming speed attempt. I suppose there's no shame in having become attached to inanimate objects. Maybe I will make a wall clock out of the busted case half. Maybe I'll just come back to the shelves once in awhile. They're not going anywhere. | ||
| Aesquire |
I've got a sacrificed helmet shelf too. Thank you, dead lids. | ||
| Ratbuell |
I have (now) two crashed helmets, as well as the dash out of my late S2. I also have the instrument cluster from my totalled (rolled 3x) 1989 Shelby CSX, showing 17k miles; the instrument cluster from my t-boned 2005 Magnum R/T hemi (34k); the bare frame from my totalled S2 (soon to be a conversation piece / glass top coffee table); and a drawer full of holed pistons ("nah...it can take a few more PSI of boost this run, I've got plenty of fuel...maybe I'll pull some timing out...what? Time to line up? Leave the timing, gimme the boost and let's go")... I don't have any clothing other than the lids, though - textile soaks up too much blood, and they cut most of the stuff off me anyway en route to the ER... | ||
| 86129squids |
Reminds me of the beginning of the Burt Munroe documentary- starts with a panning shot above his workbench, "Offerings To The Gods Of Speed". Highly recommended watching, especially "World's Fastest Indian". I'm sure all here have seen that. | ||
| Shoggin |
I also have a shelf of stuff like that, Never throw away a helmet, even the ones that make it to the 5-7 year expiration without kissing pavement give memories that are irreplaceable. And every rusty bastard bolt, nut, fastener thing that has caused me to curse or break out the hot-wrench. They all tell a story, better than any photo album!  | ||
| Tootal |
My racing partner has a nice case in his garage with many of the broken parts from the race car. Constant reminders that details are important!! He used to work as a project manager. His new boss came into his office and saw the broken piston on his desk. He asked what that was about. His reply was that details are important. He and his boss got along real well! |
