(off topic, just rambling)
I made one good move setting up my car, if a wee bit dangerous! I mounted my fuel tank tight behind the driver's seat. It was inboard of the four wheels where I tried to get as much weight as possible, plus as the track got slicker as the race went on, the car shifted weight to the right side, or out of the left side, same difference.
Midseason or so I had worked most of the bugs out of my car and I was doing a pretty good job of staying out of trouble on the track. With a little time on my hands I got creative! I had a full tunnel with the driver in a cockpit and the wind tunnel running from middle of the transmission hump, straight up to the top of the firewall and dash, straight across to the passenger door. I grabbed some scrap aluminum and built a nice clean little box, 6"x6"x4" high. Riveted it right on top of that tunnel where God and everybody could see it!
Everybody wanted to know what was in that box. "Nothing, just an empty box." I had guys climbing over, under, and through my car trying to see what was in that box! After a month or six weeks everyone was used to the box so I got out my drill. Took the box off and drilled a hole in it just big enough to squeeze two fourteen gauge electrical wires through, a red and a blue one. Tied them together where it wasn't possible to pull them out of the box. Then I ran the wires to the top of my wind tunnel and same thing, small hole and a knot. A few people tried but there was no snatching those wires out!
Funny thing, while I would bend the rules to the limits, my cars were always legal. Helping friends, I didn't bother with such restrictions!
My car was down one week, I don't remember why. Met up with another driver who wasn't racing that night, at the beer box naturally. He wanted me to come meet his wife. We went up into the stands: "Marie, this is Hu." A blank look. "He drives the number 49 car." Still blank. "The red '57 Chevy."(It was a late model then, been awhile.) His wife exploded! She yelled, "That son of a ... Oh, how are you doing?" A sweet smile and a butter wouldn't melt in her mouth voice. "Yes ma'am, that son of a bitch!" A few beers later we were great friends. I'm sure you know the story but we would hammer and bang on each other on the track if necessary, then be at somebody's shop the next night helping get their car together. Loan each other anything we had too.
I was too big and heavy to drive carts seriously. I knew guys that did, envied them. I did drive sprint cars a little, a blast!
Hu