Life circumstances have made it so that you can have only one car that needs to do it all. It has to take you to work every day, look dignified enough as to not embarrass your boss/date/HOA, and be fun enough to take on a spirited drive or whatever leisure activity you prefer. Money isn’t an object but space is.
What JNC is perfect for any occasion?
The most entertaining comment by next Monday will receive a prize. Scroll down to see the winner of last week’s QotW, “What’s your best/worst police encounter story?“.
This week’s answers were some of the most entertaining we’ve read, so let’s dive right in.
As a testament to the popularity and performance of the Datsun Z, many of your stories involved getting into trouble back in the day when the early Z-cars were still new. Carl learned the easy way that Montana in 1970 had no daytime speed limit. Negishi no Keibajo‘s elderly parents got nabbed driving his flashy sports car in Texas with out-of-state Washington plates, but one glance at the occupants and he knew there was nothing to pin on them. Jim Daniels helped a highway patrolman lose a bet in a case of mistaken identity. MWC probably had the most devastating comment of the week thanks to a shady “friend” street racing his 280ZX.
Then there were the tales of incredible luck. Ian G., after getting pulled over in his MR2, was rescued by a minivan-driving soccer mom savior. Chet Manley was stopped by a cop who warned him of fellow LEOs that were on the lookout for modified cars. Fred Langille somehow breezed by state inspections while registering his Nissan S-Cargo. MikeRL411 was stopped by a curious officer who had likely never seen a 1960s Datsun sedan. And Jay came across the same trooper in his 510 twice on the same road trip.
Other drivers got pulled over for seemingly nothing at all. George Giese was stopped because the officer mistakenly thought his son was piloting George’s RHD car. speedie‘s Supra was stopped in a small town known for speed traps, but the officer failed to pin anything on him. Bryan Kitsune got narced on and his car searched for nothing. And Dutch 1960 had likely the most terrifying story when an officer mistook his backfiring RX-3 for a gunshot.
It was hard choosing a winner out of so many great stories, but Kevin H. cracked us up several times with his story about getting spotted by a police cruiser in his out-of-registration 1JZ-swapped, straight-piped Toyota Corona with no muffler:
I just finished installing my custom exhaust on my 1JZ swapped Corona. It was 3-inch tubing from the turbos to the end of my car: no cat, no resonator, no muffler. I planned on buying a muffler but I was so happy to drive my project for the first time.
The maiden voyage was to work on a weekday. After work, I prepared for my short but loud trip home.
Side note: I was living in Charlotte NC (NASCAR Mecca) at that time and my car was just as quiet as a Cup Series car. I easily drowned out muscle cars. Think F-15 taking off with full afterburners loud.
Again, I started my 7-minute trip home. The whole time I could tell on the faces of the drivers around me my car was annoyingly loud. I pull up to a light and I’m in the left turning lane eight cars back and I notice a police car about 4 cars behind me. So I tried ever so slightly to feather the gas without ripping a hole in spacetime with the decibels this exhaust was putting out. I swear for God the car got louder as I’m sweating and looking at the cop in my rearview mirror. Oh yeah, the car had a past-due registration! The light turns green and I know I’m home free…but one of the cars ahead of me was obviously on their cell phone. Cars honk at them and they pull off, I guess realizing they were driving that day TF. Okay, I still had time to make the light, except it turned yellow… and the car in front of me decided to stop! We could have made it! I immediately look in my rearview as the police car pulls into the lane to the right of me as that cars start to go.
So he was behind me turning left and then decided to go straight, nah he was definitely giving me a ticket.
As he gets closer to me he slows down but doesn’t have his lights on. He slowly creeps parallel to me as if he is about to do a 90s-style drive-by on me. I’m squeezing the steering wheel so hard I could have juiced it. I kept my eyes looking forward hoping he wouldn’t notice me, like an ostrich with its head in a hole, but I guess I didn’t disappear. He comes to a dead stop in the middle of traffic. I feel him staring at me. At this point, I’m thinking “Can police officers shoot me for having too loud an exhaust in North Carolina?”, or “I’m for sure doing time for this loud exhaust!” Yes, those are silly thoughts, but I was so nervous that actually went through my head.
I finally look over at him, sweat pouring down my face. He removes his sunglasses (classic “son do you know how fast you were going” police move) and has a smile from ear to ear much like the OG Grinch, and says to me:
“You have a JZ in there don’t you?”
I was 28 at the time but I responded with all the high-pitch puberty of a 7th grader:
“yEeS sSIr iT iS”
He said “Man that’s nasty! I used to have a RB swapped 510. Keep up the good work!” and drove off.
I came back to life, drove home, and immediately ordered the largest muffler I could afford.
Omedetou, your comment has earned you a set of decals from the JNC Shop!