For about four years, one night each week I’d head east from Oxnard to Newbury Park on Potrero Road, the old Conejo Grade, much was steep and winding with fine curves…ideal for my Mustang ragtop. Returning uphill at 10 PM, Potrero had no traffic at all, and I could let the Mustang be the sports car Ford designed. When approaching a curve, I let off the gas to decrease my speed…braking while turning doesn’t give you optimal control. No one ever caught or passed me on that road, and I felt pretty confident about my cornering, until…
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I learned to drive on a land rocket, a ’63 Viking Blue Ford Galaxie 500, with a high compression V8. My own first car: a ’64 Ford Falcon Futura, looked sporty but the slant 6 was a dog. Then came two Ford vans, and ’78 Volvo 242 arrived, slow and unreliable, but safe. My fastest, an ’87 turbo Chrysler LeBaron GTS that cornered like it was on rails…when out of the shop. Two Mustang ragtops brought a lot of fun.
With each, knowing their strengths and weaknesses allowed me to trust them. Meaning…
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