In the beginning.

In the beginning, it was all Dirk's fault. Dirk casually mentioned at a party one evening (not your typical party, of course - since we all have kids there are no more real parties) that he had been working on a race car. My ears perked up, and I quizzed him for details. A small group of his friends had purchased a mongrel BMW 325e and entered it in the 24 Hours of LeMons race. I was quite interested, and while it was not my affair I decided to go down to Angleton to watch the race when it finally happened. According to Dirk, his Prison Break Racing team was a bit pressed for time at the end and took some shortcuts which came back to haunt them later.

The race was hilariously fun, although mechanical problems dogged Dirk's team, and I came away burning with desire to get in on the action (or, it may have been windburn, not sure). The next day was Monday, and I went to work, and about the 5th email waiting for me in my crowded inbox was from my friend Shaun in Pennsylvania who is, shall we say, a casual collector of interesting old cars. With the Lemons race still occupying my mind, I read his email which contained a link to a Craigslist ad for a 1981 Fiat Brava sitting in someone's field. It was an epiphany - I had the desire, and, without even trying, the means of effluent accomplishment had crashed into my life. It was, in short, the most perfect car for LeMons I could have chosen. Like 24 hour jalapeno burn, the idea of racing consumed me. Two days later I had the car, but I knew I couldn't do it alone. I needed a team. A team schooled in hard knocks, piratical in their methods, and lacking all fear of ferric oxide.

Next Chapter: The Gathering Storm