Black Echo Gots
Much Bass !
Word To Your Mother !
Got home late the other night, still some daylight, but getting dark soon and Cindy didn't feel like cooking dinner. So, I suggested we go grab a burger and she suggested we take the IROC.
Fired the monsteroc up and we head into town. After a heated debate ("What do you want?" "I don't care, what do you want?" "No, what do you want tonight?" "Anything is fine, you decide." Arrrghhhh!) on the way of what brand of fast food to chow down on, I decide on the local Wendy's.
Now, I've talked about the exhaust note of my IROC before. It is a very serious, deep bass-like boom that vibrates the whole car. The exhaust pipes under the car are as big as my biceps, no lie. I'm not kidding when I say that my car, at idle, and in gear at a stop light, sounds like I have some of the biggest subwoofers in the back known to Man. The exhaust note just flows up and down slightly, the cam is pretty choppy in this beast, and it vibrates your whole body, right down to shaking your bones and vibrating the factory louvers on the rear lid. Louvers. Someone once told me; "Show me a man with louvers, and I'll show you a man with no taste and scratches on his back glass."
I slowly pull the IROC into Wendy's and let it idle at 10mph across the parking lot, prowling slowly, checking out the territory. I see nada muy importante. A old beater S10 that looks like it's getting the beginnings of become a low rider, a few four door family cars, and no sign of rice or blue ovary pony mobiles anywhere. Cindy, being a school teacher (and living in a small town), tends to run into some of her students or kids the same age that she teaches, every now and then, especially at night at burger places, local hang outs, etc.
I pulled the loping IROC into the parking lot and gently eased it into a parking spot on the side of the restaurant, let it idle for a few seconds, enjoying the throttle pulse of the exhaust, and then killed it right there. Quiet. You can feel the pulse leave your body like some form of energy wave evaporating. It leaves a hollow spot, and you want to reach up and turn the key just to bring back the sound and the fury. The jingle of keys in my hand. The scream of silence that is now very deafening....
A couple of young kids, mid-teen years, were there sitting at one of the window booths, gawking at the IROC, talking hurriedly between themselves and gesturing. The subject of their conversation didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out. I got out, went around the back of the IROC, opened the passenger door for Cindy (being the gentleman that I am) and we walked into the restaurant.
I turned, it was one of the kids at the window.
"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at the kid.
His friend was still staring out the window, face against the pane like his lips were superglued to the glass, gawking at the IROC.
"What kind of subs do you have in there!? They really kick!"
"Yeah!" the kid looking out the window says without looking my way "They're awesome!"
I smiled, Cindy turned away to keep from showing them she was laughing but I heard her. Quiet little teacher....
"That's not subs you're feeling, that's the exhaust pulse from the motor." I said.
The gawker from the window turned and stared at me. The look on the two kids' faces was priceless... I almost hit the floor rolling. I couldn't help it, I laughed out loud and Cindy gave me one of those little teacher punches in the arm that meant "behave." The guy who asked me the question mouthed the words "exhaust pulse?" as he had this 'no frigging way!' look on his face.
Both of the kids turned to look back out at the IROC and kept talking about it and gesturing the rest of their meal until they left in the beater S10.
Black Echo gots much base. The sad thing is, I remember a time when a car was bad because what made it thump was under the hood, not in the trunk. This new generation of hot rodders, I just don't know....