I'd like to once again thank all who supported me in my valiant (imho) attempt to win the coveted "Low Car Limbo Contest." As I expected, it was a hoot.
For those unfamiliar (as I was), the Low Car Limbo is a thing where tuner boys, mostly in Hondas with fart cans and impossibly-cambered wheels, drive under progressively lower limbo bars to determine who is lowest. It is the apparent tradition, although not necessarily the universally-sanctioned rule,* to stuff one's vehicle with as many bodies as possible [fig. 1, above], in order to compress the springs—or, one supposes, the snubbers—still further in a mad quest for pavement-scraping glory.
Upon noticing that, with her windshield folded, the high point of Bridget was roughly 44 inches above mean sea level, I endeavored to snatch the trophy from these silly-ass poseurs.** Of course I arrived with the canvas fully unfurled and her top standing well above the competition as the rain fell steady. I had meant to surprise them all after the first pass.
But as I waited for that first round one of my fellow competitors walked up from behind. "Dude," he asked, "do you plan to fold your windshield?"
Hearing my answer, he turned to his compatriots, who were then pointlessly revving their engines in line behind me, and announced, "We're screwed!"
I swear I tented my fingers and whispered to myself, "ehhxcellent...".
And so rounding for the second pass I pulled down the top, folded the windscreen forward (as a sporting man does) and proceeded to get quite wet.
It was just about then than a guy driving a 1973 Lotus Europa cut in line ahead of me.
As many of you may know, the Lotus Europa's roof line resides some 42.5 inches above the pavement. I protested the interloper's entrance, as he had not been here at the start as required. But to no avail.
The results were then preordained. I came in second.
All-in-all, a hilarious result.
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*This car was called out before the first run, its driver made to expel all passengers. I believe there were eight or nine. The crowd roared.
**I had imagined the other entrants would not immediately recognize Bridget's potential, and that once they did, hurried rule adjustments might follow. I had fervently hoped that someone would arbitrarily decide that this contest would be open only to vehicles with Japanese engines, or EFI. It was not to be: they were good sports.