One of the Under gound sports that the Brothers participated in was the Death run. It was a no holds barred race from Seattle to San Diego, the Brothers went as a team. Dave drove his car, Utah and Rick drove the "Grunting Doberman" our big black Peterbuilt semi, with a trailer attached, and Barett drove his motorcycle. The first few miles were a combat zone, automatic gunfire, caltrops on the road, lots of bumping and rubbing. The Brothers manage to make a break from the crowd and with Barett running in the front and the Rig taking the back, Protecting Dave and the car they pulled into a nice lead and hauled on down the road, minus some minor gun play and sang jumping off the rig onto another truck and destroying the steering and radiator, then jumping off, things went quiet until the last 5 miles. There was a mad dash for the finish line, someone launched a RPG and riped up the road. Utah managed to get the Rig ahead, and did a jackknife on the road. Tires squelling and rubber burning the "Grunting Doberman" jerked to a stop, blocking the whole road, building to bulding. Dave leaned out the window of his car and shot the tires out of the car in front of him and speed past the finish line. Having won the contest and large cash prize, the Brothers spent most of the money, fixing and upgrading the rig and Daves car. One of the down sides to the whole race was that they made lots of enemies, some would come back later for revenge.
Death run II was under the same idea, but it was run through Death Valley up to Tahoe, they ended up blowing the engine on the " Grunting Doberman" but Dave managed to win again. They have not been invited back to run again, mostly they are smaller races in the desert away from towns and people, run by the mafia.
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As I recall, Tsang spent most of the race with me in the car. He hung out with me a lot, which was weird because we had diametrically opposed views of the world. Tsang is very honor bound. I am not. Not to say I am dishonorable. I merely do not care either way (which in retrospect probably does make me dishonorable).
I also remember firing the car's rocket launcher. The car came with them equipped. As the rockets are not available at your local grocer store, I never bothered to reload the rocket tubes. Later versions of the car are sans rockets as there really was no point to them.
Finally, winning both races was pretty cool, but impossible without my brothers assistance. I have stood on the shoulders of giants. I still race from time to time, just to keep a sharpened edge. I prefer to race with no stakes, just the pride of winning. Sadly, other racers like some substantial award. They are stuck in the second noble truth of Buddhism. The fail to realize that their misery stems from their attachment to money and goods. True freedom is in letting go of these trifles. Money and things come and go. To attach one's ego to an object is to risk having that piece of your ego ripped away. Racing for the experience, however, is very zen. Living in the moment. Now that's for me.
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