Luke Ibis

I live in Minneapolis, MN, am employed in the medical device industry, and am a German car enthusiast.

By on July 21, 2014

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines muscle cars as “any group of American-made 2-door sports coupes with powerful engines designed for high-performance driving.” Wikipedia goes further, and says that “a large engine is fitted in a 2-door, rear wheel drive, family-style mid-size of full-size car designed for 4 or more passengers. Sold at an affordable price, muscle […]

By on January 21, 2014

“We’re going to need more Super Clean.”

I pushed back the hood of my raincoat and flipped up my visor. Fast Eddie’s matching yellow rain gear was now a mottled brown, covered from head to toe in oil diluted with Castrol’s finest water-based degreaser. We were standing under the back end of a 1977 Porsche 911S – my 1977 911S – suspended on Eddie’s BendPak lift, staring into the black oily abyss of its engine compartment.

“More Super Clean, definitely. And more scrub brushes. And beer.”
(Read More…)

By on November 30, 2013


As you might suspect, this is a sequel to Luke’s Camaro, Part One. Full disclosure, there’s no Camaro content this time, which is part of the fun — JB

We had just crossed a set of long-forgotten railroad tracks when it happened. The engine died, the dash lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree, and the big gray Audi rolled slowly to the side of the narrow country road.

“Son of a bitch.” Not an exclamation…more of a declaration.

I cranked the engine, hoping against hope that a wire had come loose or that a ghost had reached in and flipped the key off. I checked under the hood, looked underneath the car, and saw nothing. No loose wires, blown fuses, or leaking fuel. The engine cranked but wouldn’t fire. No joy.

“Son of a bitch.” I was stuck.
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By on November 14, 2013

Luke, also known as “pharmer” here at TTAC, has a story to tell about his ’94 Camaro. Give him a warm welcome! — JB

Let’s get something straight before we even get into this little story: I don’t live in a trailer, rock a mullet, work the swing shift at Burger King, or street race on the weekends. These are the ugly stereotypes applied to owners of Camaros and Firebirds, and they are not fair, true, or particularly funny. Nevertheless, I have heard these stereotypes thrown out as jokes from a lot of different people, and I am none of them.

I am, however, in a long term relationship with a 1994 Camaro Z28.
(Read More…)

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