A gearhead’s tale of grit, grease and glory? | Articles

I’m writing this sleep deprived, running on coffee and sheer stubbornness. I got home at 6 in the morning.

This past weekend, I set out on an 1800-mile journey that was equal parts exhilarating and exhausting, filled with the kinds of highs and lows that only a true gearhead can appreciate.

My destination? Lime Rock Park in Lakeville, Connecticut, where the legendary Gridlife Circuit Legends Festival was taking place.

[Video: Why you need to go to a Gridlife Event | Tom O’Gorman Vlog]

My ride? A 1980s Mazda RX-7 that practically screams “Saved by the Bell” with its retro, neon-colored livery.

This car isn’t just a vehicle, it’s a rolling piece of nostalgia, blending ’80s vibes with modern-day performance. The RX-7 sports a 408-cubic-inch LSX engine, Viper gearbox, Holley Terminator X ECU, two-way suspension from Fortune Auto and lots of aero from our friends at Nine Lives Racing.

Photography Credit: Tevin James

The 900-mile drive to Lime Rock was the calm before the storm, with the gentle whistle of my F350’s turbocharger accompanying my favorite ’80s and ’90s playlist.

I packed light–just the essentials: race car, trailer, truck, safety gear and, most importantly, PB&Js.

The back seat of my F-350 would double as my accommodation for the weekend. I wasn’t going for luxury; I was keeping my wallet happy.

Gridlife Circuit Legends is the kind of event that pulls out the best and sometimes the worst in your machine. The weekend was filled with success and failures from many drivers and teams.

I had one goal all weekend. It wasn’t a trophy, it wasn’t points, it was to break a 1-minute lap time and then drive my car onto the trailer. Foreshadowing?

Once I hit the track, it became clear that this weekend was going to be a battle–not just against other drivers but against my own car.

The RX-7 was running hot–nuclear hot. My oil temps were creeping up to 300 degrees. These temperatures were threating to sabotage everything, and before I knew it, I was in a full-blown war to keep the engine cool.

Lap after lap, I could feel the engine straining. Every time I hit the straights, the LS would roar fiercely–only to have the temp gauge edge further into the danger zone. (Kenny Loggins is playing in my head.)

It was a delicate dance of pushing hard and backing off, trying to find the sweet spot where the car would hold together.

But the racing gods had other plans….