[67 black goat]

The year - 1991. I was 19 and stupid.

I was a college sophmore in the Black Hills and had a '70 GTO (gold, black vinyl top, 4 speed, open hood scoops, and Alpine). I bought it in Rapid City in the fall of my freshman year. I was heading to Laramie Wyoming to visit friends for homecoming at U of Wyo and ready to party. My Goat had a strong 400 and 3.08 gear in the rear so a lot of top end. I was passing through the prairie land of Wyoming and decided to make time so I opened it up (125 mph or so). After a few minutes of screaming along in the DARK, I realized this was really stupid. So I slowed down. It was maybe 9 pm on Friday night. Was that a deer?

As I was slowing down to about 70 I felt a vibration so I kept slowing down. It felt like driver front. I slowed down to about 30 and it turned to a thump, thump, thump, ... So I stopped in the middle of nowhere and got out. I found that the rubber tread on the Pirelli's had seperated and was slapping my fender. Just about pissed my pants.

I could see lights of a town in the distance. So I limped it along and the sound got louder. At the edge of town the tire blew. It was a little town called Lusk near the tri border of WY, SD and Neb. I walked to the gas station and some young high schoolers were hanging out there - it was Friday night. I talked to a high school kid who had a black Bandit T/A (79 or so). We talked cars and I told him my problem. Blown tire and no spare - but I had a jack.

I jumped in the Bandit with a couple of his buddies and drove out to my Goat. They thought it was a great car. Sooooo we planned to get a tire from a guy in the morning and I partied with them the rest of the night. I still needed a place to stay so the kid put me up in his dad's old pickup camper in the back yard. He said there is a mattress, pillow, blankets and a bunch of crap. It was cool out maybe down to 40 degrees but plenty of blankets. No lights so I crawled in, bumped into some stuff and got under the musty smelling blankets. I was cozy.

In the morning, I wake up to a really, really old camper full of boxes and absolute junk. Glad I didn't look at the mattress. The back yard is all weeds and full of junk. A couple old vehicles parked near the alley. Something you'd see in a Stephen King movie - just missing a wierd dude in coveralls and no shoes with a shovel walking around in circles. But hey, I had water stained roof over my head and blankets. If you know Wyoming, that is kind of the way it is there. Nothing ever rusts, it justs quits working. And you keep it.

We got a tire mounted and I was off to UW. I will always remember the help of "Bandit".
He probably is telling the same story to this day about "GTO". I think his name may have been Wayne - in case "Bandit" is reading this.

If I would have stayed on the throttle for maybe another second or so, that tire would have blown. I would have rolled into the sagebrush and not found til morning. By the grace of God, I can share that story today with others.

The following summer I put 4.10s in the rear and didn't worry about top end any more!

I sold the car to put a down payment on the house in '98 and it was repainted red and was last seen near Willmar, MN.

Next time I will tell about racing a Bandit T/A on the interstate through town and cops heard us!

Layne

[The Boss]

Great story! Thanks for sharing it!

[GTO JOHN]

A classic story now in print. Should have taken the Plymouth Champ instead.

[67 black goat]

Gas was only 90 cents then. Champ did get almost 35 miles to the gallon though.

Go to bed - it's past your bedtime.

Lunch on Thursday? My turn to buy.

[archerytony]

Originally Posted by 67 black goat

The year - 1991. I was 19 and stupid.

I was a college sophmore in the Black Hills and had a '70 GTO (gold, black vinyl top, 4 speed, open hood scoops, and Alpine). I bought it in Rapid City in the fall of my freshman year. I was heading to Laramie Wyoming to visit friends for homecoming at U of Wyo and ready to party. My Goat had a strong 400 and 3.08 gear in the rear so a lot of top end. I was passing through the prairie land of Wyoming and decided to make time so I opened it up (125 mph or so). After a few minutes of screaming along in the DARK, I realized this was really stupid. So I slowed down. It was maybe 9 pm on Friday night. Was that a deer?

As I was slowing down to about 70 I felt a vibration so I kept slowing down. It felt like driver front. I slowed down to about 30 and it turned to a thump, thump, thump, ... So I stopped in the middle of nowhere and got out. I found that the rubber tread on the Pirelli's had seperated and was slapping my fender. Just about pissed my pants.

I could see lights of a town in the distance. So I limped it along and the sound got louder. At the edge of town the tire blew. It was a little town called Lusk near the tri border of WY, SD and Neb. I walked to the gas station and some young high schoolers were hanging out there - it was Friday night. I talked to a high school kid who had a black Bandit T/A (79 or so). We talked cars and I told him my problem. Blown tire and no spare - but I had a jack.

I jumped in the Bandit with a couple of his buddies and drove out to my Goat. They thought it was a great car. Sooooo we planned to get a tire from a guy in the morning and I partied with them the rest of the night. I still needed a place to stay so the kid put me up in his dad's old pickup camper in the back yard. He said there is a mattress, pillow, blankets and a bunch of crap. It was cool out maybe down to 40 degrees but plenty of blankets. No lights so I crawled in, bumped into some stuff and got under the musty smelling blankets. I was cozy.

In the morning, I wake up to a really, really old camper full of boxes and absolute junk. Glad I didn't look at the mattress. The back yard is all weeds and full of junk. A couple old vehicles parked near the alley. Something you'd see in a Stephen King movie - just missing a wierd dude in coveralls and no shoes with a shovel walking around in circles. But hey, I had water stained roof over my head and blankets. If you know Wyoming, that is kind of the way it is there. Nothing ever rusts, it justs quits working. And you keep it.

We got a tire mounted and I was off to UW. I will always remember the help of "Bandit".
He probably is telling the same story to this day about "GTO". I think his name may have been Wayne - in case "Bandit" is reading this.

If I would have stayed on the throttle for maybe another second or so, that tire would have blown. I would have rolled into the sagebrush and not found til morning. By the grace of God, I can share that story today with others.

The following summer I put 4.10s in the rear and didn't worry about top end any more!

I sold the car to put a down payment on the house in '98 and it was repainted red and was last seen near Willmar, MN.

Next time I will tell about racing a Bandit T/A on the interstate through town and cops heard us!

Layne

I had almost the same thing happen a few years back with my TA it has 273 gears and I had it tached out to 6000 at one point and I old enough to know better. my tire did the same thing I am also thankful it was at 40 mph when it went it tore the front mud flap off when it did YIKES!

[flyingn]

great story.. crazy stuff we do in our youth