Finally, I pitted, on the 125th lap. The crew could find nothing immediately out of order, and I took the car out again, all along having the horrible thought that at any moment now the whole lot was going to blow asunder. It was obvious something was wrong, and 19 laps later I retired—peacefully, as it happened.
My first venture in stock car racing was over, and I came away from it quite impressed, if for no other reason than it takes a lot of stamina and ability to wheel those huge cars around 1,000 turns in five hours. When the opportunity next presents itself, I shall look forward to having another bash at it.