A wise man once said........"when you leave home with a race car, there a'int no tellin' what you'll get into before you get back ............." Ahhh, truer words were never more eloquently spoken. "Half the fun wuz gettin' there........." definitely rings true in the race car world. Without question, on all levels, from karters to 'Cuppers, the task of transporting one's racing equipment has advanced exponentially over the past 40-something years. But, if we trace our heritage back, far enough, race cars weren't transported to the speedway, they were driven.In 1946, the cash-strapped Granatelli brothers, rigged lights and mufflers and DROVE a Miller-Ford from Chicago to Indianapolis for the 500. Thier standard response from surpised on-lookers: "if it's 'sposed to race for 500 miles, it oughtta make it from Chicago to Indy............on the highway!" Gotta love that racing mentality.......................... Three years later, Lee Petty would employ the exact same mindset using a '48 Buick Roadmaster for a little day trip from Level Cross to Charlotte...........somethinng called a 'strictly stock' event. But, like most ingenious plans, there's a fly in the oinment. Problem with driving the race car to the RACE becomes crystal clear when, (and there's always a "when") in the aftermath, the car is wrecked, rendered un-drivable, or un-steerable...............which Lee also demonstrated.. The tow-bar, (sometimes the pipe/chain stiff-leg or the yellow nylon water-skiing rope..but that's another story) and its cousin........the add-on-tail/brake light(s) soon became the tools of choice, no glamour, flash, OR much expense..........just gettin' from point A to point B AND back, and trying not to get pulled by the poe-leece.Speaking of gettin' pulled by the poe-leece............... just what is it about law enforcement officials and race cars in-tow that is SO attractive, anyway? It's some kind of magnetism!For Example: My dad once had a race "team". The team consisted of a '56 Chevy late model, a '59 Ford pick-up truck (6 cyl. powered with 2nd gear 'missing') and a tow bar. The team (me, my dad, my two best friends and their dad.........that's 5 head in a '59 Ford PU (actually us chilluns were in the pick-up bed real-live MarCel Ledbetter-style) and we're goin' to the RACE......flat towing the Chev. The RACE was at Myrtle Beach's RAMBI Raceway, and in those glorius days the ONLY way (for south-bound motorists) to the track was "old" 17 (through the city) and west on 501 (to the track)................Now, everybody and his brother has been to Waccamaw Pottery.........and is familliar with the HIGH level Intracoastal -Waterway bridge , right at the pottery, except the pottery wasn't present in this particular story (but the bridge WAS) .......yep, pretty far back in the day.The old Ford had labored up the steep side of the bridge, crested the apex, and was flying down the other side, race car in tow.For some unexplainable reason, a SC Hiway Partrol Officer had parked his cruiser on the shoulder of the bridge, but still on its incline. As the '59 Ford, minus 2nd gear and with questionable brakes, came flying towards Kojak, he JUMPS OUT OF HIS CAR, STANDS RIGHT IN THE ROAD, WAVING FOR US TO STOP.........................!!!Now folks, gravity a'int nuthin' to mess with. The race car probably weighed as much as the pick-up and it was all going down hill...............ACCELERATING.....down hill........and there's a highway patrolman standing (literally) right in our path. My uncle, driving the old Ford, slammed on what brakes we had, and the whole parade began a slow, yet fast, shash-shaying slide........down the bridge, all four tires locked, schreeching and tire smoke bellerin'.............BUT miracle of all miracles, we gott 'er stopped THIS close to the frozen-like-a-deer-in-the-headlights- patrolman......... Trying to regain his composure, acting like this type of thing happened every day............Joe Patrolman walks up to our window and proclaims:........."you shouldn't drive that vehicle any faster than you can control it!".............Uncle Alton never batted an eye, Clint Eastwood couldn't dun no better, and replies..............."so far, I HAVEN'T"No further conversation, no tickets or anything, he stepped aside and we proceded on to the speedway. Just what in the wide-world-of-sports was THAT all about? Your guess is as good as mine, but Barney Fife won't ever be that lucky again. Must have been overcome by that race car MAGNETISM! Did I mention that gettin' there wuz half the fun?