I remember when I was a small child, sometimes my parents would take us for evening rides along the back roads near home to get us settled down and ready to sleep. The soft green glow of the dash lights in the old ‘78 Country Squire and the glare of the red high-beam indicator, all reflected in the windows; the stars and the moon reflecting off the lake through the trees…

A buddy and I took it out to a long, straight stretch of road that led to one of the unused back gates for the military base, so the road was entirely mine for the night. Windows down and the stereo cranked up we got it up to about 110, roaring down the road scaring the occasional eyes back into the brush and shooting off sparks when bottoming out in the occasional dip. Eye opening and exhilarating.

We ended up by the gate, sitting on the hood, smoking cheap(!) cigars and listening to the old block tick cool, while watching the approaching lightning in the distance. One of the best night’s ever.

And what about a fast car, driven fast? I’ve done that in Nevada, in daylight, with five miles of clear visibility ahead, and once was almost enough.

Has anybody heard the news I heard from a somewhat wacko radio yakker that Texas has passed a law throwing the book at serious speeders? He said it was now an automatic confiscation of your vehicle and ten years in prison. Izzat true?

Something to add here: Today’s cars, with their super sticky tires and high limits, mean that the speeds needed to get that thrill has been pushed higher and higher. That partial sideways slide that only needed 40 mph years ago now takes nearly 70. Big difference if you leave the road at that speed! I guess the tires have won the battle here…

For pure speed, Alligator Alley between Ft Lauderdale and Naples, FL is a good time. I didn’t even know I owned a car with a speed limiter until I was on that road heading to Tampa one night. and the added fear of running over a gator…

Maybe I just like the thrill of running over or through stuff in the dark.

And yes, I know it’s stupid, dangerous and illegal. Way it goes. I’m in my 60’s, and alone, and there’s really no traffic so most the danger is to me. And I carry $2 million in liability insurance. My main worry is deer. But at 120+ it’ll just kill me which I don’t really mind that much.. It would be a good way to go, beats the heck out of hospitals or nursing homes.

It’s one of my favorite things. It’s calming. But it’s sad, it’s so rare to see other people just out driving the curvy roads in Raleigh. most out that late are idiots, down on capital blvd trying to find a Honda to drag-race from a stoplight and get pulled. I’ve been speeding down country roads for years and have never had a legal issue. Goes to show who’s the real car enthusiasts and who’s just looking for bragging rights.

Naive? Well, let’s just say that the guys who didn’t live through their last joyrides aren’t here to give you their sides of the story.

Hardly a weekend goes by without some local news story of a single-car accident in the wee hours of the night, with one or more deaths due to what appears to be “excessive speed.”

“Naive” people dismiss stuff like that. The rest of us consider that life is pretty darn precious, and we can enjoy a fine midnight ride without risking our lives at the same time. We just hope that we won’t find one of those “naive” guys hurtling head-on in our lane, doing 144 MPH.

I will say that I’m stunned at the number of idiots I still encounter every Friday night and Saturday night commute. These are big, honkin’ SUVs and pickups these yahoos are driving, not rice rockets, and they drive’em fast and play chicken with one another.

Insanity at $1.50 a gallon! Even worse now!

I wouldn’t exactly call it joyriding, but on my annual vacation trip, I typically hit the road at about 3 a.m. This is a throwback to the days before I had air conditioned vehicles and wanted to be off the road by noon or 1 p.m. to avoid the heat of the day.

The AC runs less in the wee hours– sometimes I can actually shut it off and put ambient air through the ducts till 8 or 9 a.m.

The RX-7 would hug the road as if the road, the tires, the steering wheel, and my hands were all joined together as one. I had no worries in life. Life ahead was like the road I drove; a journey and adventure, with no particular destination required.

It was all good!

Now that I have a kid I do this less than I used to, but I still like running a late night errand every once in a while.

-ted

“there’s a place for “speed” — it’s called a “race track.” “Roads” are the things that the rest of us are just trying to get from one place to another on”

Hahaha don’t be so naive, if everyone had that attitude cars that are faster than a yaris wouldn’t exist.

My neck of the woods in Georgia (pun intended) is ideally suited towards joyriding. In fact, it was one of the criterion I used when considering my home. This area is literally drawn up with long and winding one lane roads.

Then of course, the county decides to open up a new police station two miles from home. Wouldn’t you know that the first downhill curve that is less than a quarter mile from my home is now used as speedtrap #1 in Cobb County, Georgia. Especially since there are now two brand new schools less than a few hundred feet from it (25 mph speed limit).

Oh well it was fun while it lasted.

Not to mention the roads are wide open. It started for me with Triumphs on the tricky off-camber back roads lacing the rolling hills of rural Pennsylvania under a Milky Way sky. New England, from Connecticut to the Canadian border, made the nighttime roam a religion, often with a scope and tripod stowed in the boot. The clarity of a winter diamond sky often coaxed me to stow the ragtop regardless the -5 deg F temp. In the summer and fall, I’d drive a day’s loop from Boston to Burlington, VT, then down the west shore of Lake Champlain, through Ticonderoga, all so I could finish with a skate eastbound across Vermont after dusk, at 20 over the limit on Route 4, before sailing back down the Interstates home.

Now I have Southern California for nighttime rambles. I don’t even have to take the long way home. The direct route includes 6 miles up Pacific Coast Highway and 13 miles through Topanga Canyon. But a few nights every week, I double or triple the distance home by driving further up Route 1 to a more remote canyon ribbon of asphalt. Or better yet, wait till the world heads to bed, then roll out for a blast up Mulholland Highway, beyond the darkened Rock Store until my mind is clear.

Even several years of blasting through the Central Valley on I-5 well after midnight, or taking the silkier route down 101, or blending the two with an interlude dancing with Route 46, in a sequence of SVT factory rods and a C4 Vette, showed that even an interstate laid in a dramatic landscape on a moonlit night — or one illuminated by our local galaxy plus a comet — can satisfy your night speed jones.

Nighttime is when you truly learn to understand your car. And it’s just as much fun at 70hp as at 443, and everything in between.

Phil