Before September of 2002, I was just like many of you readers. I've never experienced what the Super Street Tour was all about. Sure, like you, I've been told repeatedly about how dope it is and have seen pictures of it in our previous Tour coverage. But that's just not the same as being there in person and experiencing every morsel of it firsthand. It's indescribable. Kind of like Ro-Ro trying to explain the satisfaction he gets from eating balut. You would never be able to fully appreciate the act of devouring a half-developed duck embryo without actually doing it yourself.
Using the moonlight shining through my bedroom window, I gathered up all my clothes and stuffed them into a suitcase as quickly as possible at 4 a.m. The anticipation was growing and I could feel it moving through my body. I couldn't help thinking to myself, Is the Tour going to be the biggest event of the year or will country music be my only companion for my journey halfway across our beloved nation? I guess the only thing I could do is to store my carry-on in the overhead according to the airline regulations and head on over to Dallas, Texas. Of course, I had to go on the West Leg with JD's girl Adrienne Roman, our ad sales rep, Omar Hashmani, eurotuner Phil Royle with cheese, and that duck walker, Maria Brown; I wouldn't want it any other way.
Pre-PartyOnce I felt the hot, sticky Texas air touch my delicate body, I already wished that I had brought my arsenal of skin care products because this was going to be a long trip. Of course, Otis and I got lost going from the airport to the hotel-it's inevitable when you're driving around Texas. It never quite kicked into my mind that this was the Tour until we arrived at our hotel. With the exception of our rental cars, the entire parking lot was filled with the cars of Super Street and eurotuner readers. We checked in and headed off to Enkei to set up for the Tour pre-party. Having Oliver on the Tour turned out to be a blessing, since it kept us edit guys from doing any heavy lifting. Wouldn't want to hurt the old trigger finger, ya know? Within the first 45 minutes of the party, a once-empty parking lot was filled with our fellow hotel stayers and about a hundred other cars that managed to wander in. Who wouldn't want to go to a party with free food and prizes? Countless heads mobbed the Yokohama big rig during the give-outs, wrestling furiously for the goodies provided by all of our sponsors. As the night came to an end, the cars dispersed from the parking lot just as quickly as they filled it up. There were still three big days of driving ahead for everyone.
Tour ExperienceA whopping four hours of sleep bestowed upon my body every night and each morning, I was awakened by cries from an eager crowd waiting to purchase the Tour 2002 T-shirts and get a free Goodie Bag. It became routine for me to walk outside and have the heavy moisture in the air grace my camera lens with its presence. This made it virtually impossible to shoot any pictures without resting myself, I mean my camera, in front of the air conditioner for a couple of minutes. After staring at the buttons on my Canon for a good part of a day, I decided that it was probably time I learned how to use it. It's hard to believe, but whenever I'd get out of the rental, there were more and more cars joining us on the Tour. Each time we left a stop, our pack would grow by another 40 or 50 cars. There were no limitations to which kinds of cars could come on the Tour. From Civics to Neons-even the bad-ass Nitrous Express S15 Silvia-every freeway we drove on was filled to the brim.