Our morning started well. Hal picked up our race instructions at their first available moment at exactly 8:31am. The car had been in a multi-level parking garage for the night, so I drove it out and had it ready for our 9:01 start time. Today we were in the middle of the pack, a MUCH better position than yesterday’s spot at 7 cars from the end.

Hal set up next to the car, away from all the noise at the registration location.

Fortunately, Hal was able to get the morning run calculations all complete in the 30-minute window, allowing us the benefit of running the full speedometer calibration run out of the starting gate. That calibration run worked out to be about 3.5 seconds longer than race design, meaning we needed to adjust our speedometer. Calibration runs are held every morning, and all racers are encouraged to participate, because subtle changes in tire pressure can have a big impact on the effectiveness of the speedometer. The 3.5 seconds we were off in 30 minutes represents 7 seconds per hour. There are 3600 seconds in an hour, so our needed modification was (7/3600) x 100 = .19%. Our speedometer was set at 4336 and to adjust with the new correction, we multiply that by the .19% and we need to change the speedometer by 8 clicks. Actually, there are two ways to determine this, and we used a more finite method, but that which I explained is easier to understand. We then adjusted the 4 wheels in the back of the speedometer from 4-3-3-6 to 4-3-2-8 (4336-8=4328). Theoretically this adjustment would help us have better and more precise results.

After making our adjustments, we pulled up to the starting line at our designated time for the beginning of the timed race, and off we went.

The road conditions were interesting. We spent a terrific amount of time on narrow two-lane roads that felt like they had last been paved when our tin woodie was built, in the early 1950’s. The asphalt was in deplorable condition. The race designers also did a fine job of selecting very hilly and curvy roads with speeds ranging from 15-45mph. That doesn’t sound like much, but when I am driving, I have two responsibilities – watch the speedometer and watch the road; my eyes are rapidly shifting back and forth, spending substantially more time focused on the speedometer when in safe straight road conditions with no cars in sight. At slow speeds (15-30mph), I must stay in second gear, and cannot downshift into first gear, because the transmission does not have a synchronized first gear. It is impossible to maintain an exact constant speed, so all drivers try to keep the needle moving between 1mph above and below the specified speed, ensuring consistency in keeping the average in the middle. When driving up and down curvy narrow roads, I must focus longer on the road, and when I refocus on the speedometer the swings can be more aggressive. Tachometers must be covered in all race cars, but the Hippo does not even have a Tach. On straight flat roads, listening to the pitch of the engine revolutions is a good way to maintain consistency, but when going up and down quickly repeating hills, the engine sound is far from constant.

As far as rider comfort goes, think of a bathtub on four wheels, held in a frame with one big spring in each corner. Driving on these roads was like being in a small fishing boat in choppy seas. We had several tight snaking turns at 45mph, and Hal would remark how different it feels than in a modern car. Newer cars hug the turns, while in The Hippo, a tight 45mph turn feels like you are doing the same at 85mph in a new car. We had some hair-raising turns today.

At one point before lunch, we stopped at a stop sign, and progressed onto a long dirt road. Actually, the road was in the process of being prepared for paving. Two thirds of its length had newly compacted crusher-run (stones mixed with stone dust), which wasn’t so bad, but then it stopped with a cold hard edge, and dropped 6″ down to a mess of a dirt road. In the approach driving to the dirt, it appeared like the contractor had tapered the crusher-run smoothly down to the dirt. It was only when we were directly on top of it that we realized it was a hard 6″ drop. We hit that drop into the dirt, and for a second, I thought the body of the car was going to fly off its chassis. The Hippo survived, but I sure hope we do not have any more conditions like that. Driver after driver were seen crawling under their cars at the break to see if they had damaged their undercarriage.

Also, before lunch we were winding through one of these remote snaking hilly roads, and we got stuck behind a trash truck. We lost a chunk of time, and were in the process of making it up, when we came upon a checkpoint. Hal’s mind was deep in calculation mode over frustration about the checkpoint, and we consequently missed our last and final marker of that leg. I was driving down the road, and I asked Hal what our next marker was. He said, “a 45mph sign on the right.” I explained that I believe we had just passed said speed limit sign. We decided to pull a quick U-Turn and sure enough, there was the sign. That sign was the time marker for the end of that leg, and it would be used to define our start time after lunch; we had completely missed it. We knew our exact time at the checkpoint, and thereby decided the best path for resolving the problem was to circle back beyond the checkpoint, turn back around, re-establish our designed travel speed, re-pass the checkpoint, and use our stopwatch to track the time between the checkpoint and the previously missed 45mph sign. I was convinced we must have created some real confusion for the timekeepers at the checkpoint, having two times for the same car!

We lunched in Tupelo, Mississippi, the birthplace of Elvis Presley, where his childhood home is now The Elvis Presley Memorial Chapel. It was a hot workday, so there was not much of a crowd out to see the cars.

We had three more legs of the race after lunch and were feeling fairly good about our efforts, until we received our scores at the finish line.

Our scores made no seeming sense, especially the last three legs, where we were sure we were going to have exceptional scores. Scores of 24 seconds, 30 seconds, and 42 seconds for those three legs are very far from good. While we moved up in score yesterday, we moved in the wrong direction today, going from 48th place to 69th place.

The race ended in Memphis, TN, at the Guest House at Graceland. After an Ok dinner of pulled pork, chicken, salad, and baked beans, Hal and I joined other race participants for a tour of Graceland, the home of the late Elvis Presley.

The living room at Graceland, which includes a custom made 15′ long sofa.

Across the street from Graceland are two of Elvis’s planes. The largest is one he purchased from Delta Airlines for $250,000 in the early 1970’s, and then spent another $800,000 to have it fitted for his needs. We did not go in the planes, but they were quite visible from the street.

Tomorrow we are at pole position 98, back in rear of the pack again. We will lunch in North Little Rock, Arkansas, and our finish line destination for the day will be Russellville, Arkansas. Hopefully we will have much better results!

PS – Our IT Guru, Marcus Ranum, shared the following with me via email today, and I thought it worthy of including. Like much of the rest of the world, Marcus has friends who have been playing around with ChatGPT, the new artificial intelligence software. He was sent this chat in which the prompt was: “Explain how to change a piston in the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine, using the language of the Old Testament”.

ChatGPT:

In the days of old, when the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine was in need of repair, behold, the changing of a piston required a process as intricate as the weaving of fine linen.  Let me recount to you the steps, as if told in the language of the Old Testament.

1.  Verily, gather the necessary tools and prepare the sacred space.  Anoint your hands with oil, and set the engine in a state of rest upon a foundation of solid ground.

2.  Unfasten the bolts that bind the cylinder head and separate it from the engine block.  Lo, the power of your arm shall overcome the grip of the fasteners, as Samson overcame the Philistines.

3.  Once the cylinder head is removed, thou shalt find the piston nestled within the chamber, encased in rings of steel.  Take heed, for the rings must be removed, as a warrior discards his armor before battle.

4.  Carefully, with the precision of a master craftsman, remove the wrist pin that connects the piston to the connecting rod.  As Moses parted the Red Sea, thou shalt separate the piston from its mighty connection.

5.  Now, with the old piston removed, place the new piston upon the altar of the engine block.  Align the rings upon the piston, ensuring they are in their proper order and seated with care.

6.  Inscribe the wrist pin into its ordained position, uniting the piston with the connecting rod.  Let not the pin falter, for it is the bond that shall withstand the fires of combustion.

7.  Once the piston is in place, return the cylinder head to its rightful position.  Tighten the bolts with the strength of Samson, ensuring a firm and secure union between head and block.

8.  Finally, breathe life into the engine once more.  Ignite the fire within, and may the pistons move with the grace of David‘s harp, producing the melodious symphony of power and efficiency.

Thus, with the guidance of ancient wisdom and a touch of modern knowledge, thou shalt have changed a piston in the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine.  May your endeavors be fruitful, and may the spirit of the Old Testament guide your mechanical pursuits.