Rocketing across Southern Illinois towards Louisville (I know it’s Southern Illinois because the interstate is full of bumps, the road is flat, and there is lots of corn),

we see Illinois’ finest helping distressed travelers (well, I’m sure they’re distressed after the trooper stops them).

Maybe this is why the trooper stopped him.

At the gas stop in Mount Vernon, I desperately search out the Summit Racing Mustang I’ve been promised a drive in. 525 cubic inches, a Novi 2000 blower, and Southern Illinois’ flat, straight highways. Who needs Viagra? We don’t find the ’Stang, but do see Gray Baskerville with a big smile on his face. Must still be thinking about his ride in the Thunderbolt, I guess.

Since we passed on gas in Mount Vernon to look for the Mustang, we choose to stop in the town of Griffin, Indiana. Their claim to fame is a combination gas station, train station, post office and diner. All in one 20 by 12 building.

We are fortunate to find a knowledgeable local who fills us in on all the hot spots in town.

Good thing for us the Tour doesn’t pass by in the time it takes to hear everything.

Somehow we manage to catch some of the Hot Rod staff in a ’58 Pontiac Wagon, and the Summit Mustang.

Besides being really cool looking, the wagon is the only one known to exist of 3 produced with a tri-power carb option. A rare bird, indeed.

Unfortunately for Hot Rod, the attempt to show us who has the faster wagon. We both bury the loud pedal as we tear across I-64.

It’s a close race until the kid on a moped passes us both. Going uphill. Carrying his sister. And a bowling ball. While running on diesel fuel. Well, you get the idea. If nothing else, we’re both extremely stylish.

Todd from Baer Racing manages to pass us, too. I would guess this is the view most folks have of Baer’s Mustang.

Gary’s stomach starts growling, so we decide to stop for food. Any food. Anywhere. Actually, at the next exit. Just our luck, all there is, is a small convenience store with an extensive selection of adult magazines and some junk food.

We pick the best of the bunch for our lunch.

Careful examination of the labels reveal we manage to consume exactly .001435% of our daily requirement of good vitamins, and 4,573,743% of junk calories. Only The TBC has any interest in the food.

Gary threatens to toss The TBC out the window at speed once again for soiling the tire at the Booneville, Missouri gas stop yesterday.

I dispense Gary’s daily allotment of Valium, and all is well again. It feels like we’ve been on the road forever, and sure enough, it’s Christmas because here’s Santa Claus.

Somewhere in Southern Indiana the ’59 turns 10,000 miles. We record it for posterity.

Seems like just last year we finished this frame off restoration.

Before we know it, we’re in crossing the Ohio River into Kentucky.

How time flies when you’re having fun listening to the same 4 CD’s over and over. And over. And over.

Louisville’s a great place — home of Muhammad Ali.

We get in another line on the track’s parking lot,

and find out cars can only enter in between horse races. They don’t want our fine steeds upsetting the other steeds in the joint, we’re told. Thanks to the spectacular weather (80+ and sunshine), cars start to heat up in line. Some hot cars get really hot. Like the Road Runner next to us. It gets so hot it overheats, blowing off the overflow hose.

Gary is quick to inform me the gear reduction starter on the ’59 doesn’t like to be hot. The car isn’t broken, it just needs to cool off so the starter will work.

Gee, Gary — if the car isn’t broken , then why are we pushing it? Inquiring minds want to know.

Sure enough, 30 minutes later the ’59 starts, and we make our grand entrance. Gary finds a primo parking space (How DOES he do that?), and we clean the car up while horses continue their run around the track.

Thanks to Ray and Winnie Flugger of Flowmaster,

the entertainment for tonight is 38 Special. When Winnie goes, she goes top shelf. 38 Special rocks the crowd,

then the members go over to look at Ray’s ’63 Comet convertible.

Maybe Gary can arrange to race their tour bus.

Parked just down from us are two 10-second street cars — the “Budget Beater Nova” and “Turbo Joe” Morgan’s 4-cylinder Pinto.

That’s a souped-up Mustang SVO motor under that hood scoop.

The Nova, which we last saw on a flatbed going across Missouri, is now running again. Word has it they pulled the bottom end and swapped out main and rod bearings and the oil pump, along with the lifter which failed, causing all the problems. All of this in the infield at Gateway in Saint Louis last night.

Due to these unforeseen expenditures, they’re looking for a little extra cash to help tide them over.

We’re more than happy to help ’em out.

After checking out the concept Nomad again,