7:30pm: Arrive at dragstrip. During second run, fuel is low again. Stop for gas about an eighth-mile down the strip. Still run a 14.

8:30pm: Everyone who was making fun of “the station wagon” now loves it. Except for the guy in the ’69 Camaro with slicks who keeps losing to it. He gets especially mad when a friend rides in the wagon’s rear-facing third row and waves to him as we pull away.