I think everyone has that “thing” from their childhood. Mine stemmed from riding the Citifare bus down Wells Avenue in Reno, Nevada in the mid 80s. We didn’t have much money and were living “between homes” at the time. Having lived a young life as a free spirit in rural areas, being in the city longer than for special shopping trips was a scary experience. Most things were paved and uninteresting. There were no back roads, mountain trails, or pickup rides in the bed with family.But several times a week the bus route took us on the Wells overpass, a bridge that crosses the Truckee River and numerous streets. Sure, the view was actually quite entertaining for a small child. But for a child raised in the dirt the most glorious sight was a reddish rectangle of earth situated next to a small shop just before the overpass. If I was lucky, we were seated on the correct side of the bus to see this dusty gem. If I was super lucky there would be small cars driving in the rectangle.Skip ahead twenty plus years later and that old curiosity returns. Between point A and point B there were a few mild encounters with radio controlled models but nothing profound. Economics and other interests diverted any sort of immersion in the hobby.We all have that friend. The friend that had similar experiences as a kid, saw things in a similar light, and happened upon an avenue to stoke that interest. I think everyone has that day leading up to a moment of driving passion. In this case it was a literal drive.
Fumes and speed and carnage culminated in a single moment that started another sustainable source of gratification. Nitro was the fuel of the beast and I had been mauled!
It was time to count my lunch money and find a second hand truck.