Day of the Cobra…A Mountain Story

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[This story appeared previously (Oct 2003) on a site devoted to 350Zs. At the time I had owned my Z for about 6 months. I've reprinted it exactly as it appeared].

". . . I was alone, I took a ride, I didn't know what I would find there. . . "

I was in Atlanta on business and the business was over. It was a pleasant Fall Friday and instead of heading home to Florida I decided to drive up to The Blue Ridge Parkway and spend some tome looking at leaves.I pushed the Z through a day's worth of mountain hairpins and switchbacks and got as far as Boone, NC. a cool little college town in the Outback of The Piedmont. I decided to stay in Boone for the night.

The sun had dipped behind the surrounding mountains, bathing the low clouds in a haunting yellow glow and electrifying the colored leaves. I left the Parkway and dipped into Boone Hollow on a winding, tree shrouded road, when directly in front of me, exiting a rural path in a cloud of dust, a little silver roadster hit the tarmac and smoked his gears. It was an AC Cobra, hauling ass.

I had to know if it was an original--a classic--or if it was one of those fiberglass reproductions, so down through the gears I went and I caught him.

Tree shadows flew past like strobes. He led me around several challenging curves, enjoying the chase, which lasted for about five vigorous miles. A couple of motor homes slowed us, and coming into Boone he turned into a closed restaurant parking lot. There were twenty five cars parked there, all classics. I followed him.

There were old Zs, MGB’s, Mustangs and 'Vettes of every age. I saw a Z3, an Austin Healey, a beautiful red Alfa Duetto. There was even a Ferrari, a "Magnum" 308. I had stumbled into a virulent strain of Car Culture in the mountains, and I was immediately a part of it. My Z, at the time virtually unknown to even the most ardent of car nuts, became the focus of the meet, and all these car freaks--of all ages and sexes--had a million questions about the car.

I never expected that.

Oh, yeah. . . the Cobra was a real one, a by-God Classic.

.

Additional articles may be viewed via Jerry's SkidMarks main page
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[This story appeared previously (Oct 2003) on a site devoted to 350Zs. At the time I had owned my Z for about 6 months. I've reprinted it exactly as it appeared].

". . . I was alone, I took a ride, I didn't know what I would find there. . . "

I was in Atlanta on business and the business was over. It was a pleasant Fall Friday and instead of heading home to Florida I decided to drive up to The Blue Ridge Parkway and spend some tome looking at leaves.I pushed the Z through a day's worth of mountain hairpins and switchbacks and got as far as Boone, NC. a cool little college town in the Outback of The Piedmont. I decided to stay in Boone for the night.

The sun had dipped behind the surrounding mountains, bathing the low clouds in a haunting yellow glow and electrifying the colored leaves. I left the Parkway and dipped into Boone Hollow on a winding, tree shrouded road, when directly in front of me, exiting a rural path in a cloud of dust, a little silver roadster hit the tarmac and smoked his gears. It was an AC Cobra, hauling ass.

I had to know if it was an original--a classic--or if it was one of those fiberglass reproductions, so down through the gears I went and I caught him.

Tree shadows flew past like strobes. He led me around several challenging curves, enjoying the chase, which lasted for about five vigorous miles. A couple of motor homes slowed us, and coming into Boone he turned into a closed restaurant parking lot. There were twenty five cars parked there, all classics. I followed him.

There were old Zs, MGB’s, Mustangs and 'Vettes of every age. I saw a Z3, an Austin Healey, a beautiful red Alfa Duetto. There was even a Ferrari, a "Magnum" 308. I had stumbled into a virulent strain of Car Culture in the mountains, and I was immediately a part of it. My Z, at the time virtually unknown to even the most ardent of car nuts, became the focus of the meet, and all these car freaks--of all ages and sexes--had a million questions about the car.

I never expected that.

Oh, yeah. . . the Cobra was a real one, a by-God Classic.

.

Additional articles may be viewed via Jerry's SkidMarks main page
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