6:45am - Attempted to start RoXanne while still in the garage, no dice. Just cranked and cranked and cranked. Tried leaning her out, richening her up, nothing. Let her sit for 20 minutes (extra "getting-ready-to-go" time previously budgeted now used up).
7:10am - Start attempt number 139687321. Nothing. Still just cranking. Frustration level now at maximum. Angry cigarette break. Another attempt, nothing.
7:30am (we're supposed to be meeting the rest of the club at Krispy Kreme on 183 at this time) - Still in the driveway south of Slaughter and MoPac. Give up on car, post to FB letting people know I'm not going to make it. Call my mechanic buddy for advice, leave message.
8:00am - Buddy calls me back, suggests checking injector harness connections and plug condition (to ascertain lack or abundance of fuel, respectively). Remove plugs, see about 105 gallons of wet fuel pour off them. Realize I'm an idiot and had shit set WAY too rich. Clean and scrub plugs off, crank engine without plugs to clear fuel from housings. Dial down fuel delivery in computer. Reattempt start.
8:30am - RoXanne fires up like a dream. Hit the road to get to Rudy's on 183 hopefully before pre-registration confirmation closes at 9am.
8:55am - Get to pre-registration booth, get confirmed, roll over to show area. Car running rough, worry about fouled plugs again.
9:00am - Car dies in intersection of Jollyville and Braker. Get push into Wells Fargo parking lot from badass dude in a blue and white Camaro. Check plugs, yup their fouled because car is still too rich. At least this time they're only soot-covered instead of soaking wet. Clean with shirt tail and replace. Car starts now. Get to show.
9:10am - Stop in line to enter show area, almost slam into lime green and black Camaro in front of me because driver is an idiot. Flood engine and foul plugs again. Texas RXs club members are on hand to push me into show. A little embarrassing, but I fucking made it, so that's a lot better than 2 hours earlier.
9:15am - RoXanne's on display, lookin' sexy. I'm the 10th RX member to join the group, so now we're tied with the AC Cobra club for membership participation.
10:00am - Show opens. Already, everyone who walks by at least glances into the car, most stop for several seconds to several minutes around her. Stories are swapped, information disseminated, she's the talk of the section.
10:00am-3:00pm - Wander the show, see some other really cool cars, always looping back to check on RoXanne. Drink some beer, talk shit with the other RX drivers, poke some good-natured fun at the AC Cobra club guys for not having real cars (100% of the Cobras at the show were kits). Watch people ogle RoXanne, turn down purchase offers for RoXanne. Drink some more beer.
3:00pm - Awards are handed out, Texas RXs win club participation, which comes with a $150 gift certificate to Rudy's BBQ. Be absolutely surprised when RoXanne wins a 1000W, 4-channel sounds system amplifier, courtesy AudioFX for Best Import Car.
4:00pm - Break camp, clean and replace plugs, then refuel RoXanne. Caravan back to Liberty Hill with Danny's RX-2 to start stage 2 of the restoration: speed preparations.
5:00pm-9:00pm - Tune idle and non-boost fuel levels. Get rid of sputtering due to over-rich settings, idle is actually smooth instead of loping for the first time since I've owned the car (well, I could smooth out the idle previously, the car would just die 10-15 seconds later). All RPMs and speeds of acceleration under no load now track appropriately. RoXanne growls like she's supposed to instead of the drowning sputter she had this morning. Stomping on the accelerator brings the appropriate rising wail to the 9000RPM scream I love with no leaning out or choking.
~||~
So yeah, a frustratingly slow start to the morning, but by 10am, everything was great and it just got better throughout the day.
Got invited to a couple other shows before the end of the year, one at the end of October and one in mid-November. I'll see if I can make it to them, but going to TRF and getting my Mjolnir Armor completed by Halo-ween are more important at this point.
Stage 2 on RoXanne's restoration is installation of Eibach springs in the front and rear, replacement of the rear tires with 225/50R-16 or larger tires in the rear and some strenuous load-testing to ensure that the fuel values under boost are correct.
Danny will be taking care of the first item, Discount Tires the second and hopefully Scott/Bob/Joe over at Driveway Austin will consent to let me do some tuning from the passenger seat while RoXanne is driven around in track conditions.
~||~
So I got home and wrote this, then let Lilith out of her cage to take her out, walked around with her for like 30 minutes because she wouldn't do her business and then came back in to take a shower. She pushed the door open with her nose and came in, so I looked down at her and freaked out when I saw a 1 1/2" gash on her head all puckered open.
It wasn't bleeding, she wasn't whimpering or showing any signs of pain or discomfort and was just being her normal, bubbly self. I jumped over to start first aiding her, soaking a bit of towel in some hydrogen peroxide and cleaning the wound, and checking it out, and apparently she didn't even know she was cut. It's a straight slice across the top of her head, probably received when she shoulder-checked the fish tank sitting on the floor while she was running around excited after I let her out of her kennel.
She didn't fight against me while I was cleaning the wound, and it still didn't bleed any, just a couple spots of blood on the towel where the peroxide picked it up. Still needs stitches though, so Jill is about to drive to Round Rock Emergency Hospital to get her sewed up.
This whole time, she just wants to chew her bone or wrestle around with Connor or The Doctor. It's the wierdest thing, she's got this massive wound, but she doesn't seem to even know it's there. I'd be cussing, bitching and whining up a storm if I had a cut that relative size on my head. Oh well, guess she's a trooper.
Finally got my shower, updated this with the latest information and about to go to bed. Then Jill points something out offhandedly while I'm putting on jammies:
Apparently, I'm sunburned as all fuck.
