Ah, the transaxle, master of delayed gratification. The engine has no problem warming up – this particular car even had a second set of owner-installed radiator fans to deal with its thermal output – it’s the transaxle that takes time. I planned on eventually shifting out of first gear, so with Mark, the owner, sitting passenger, we took a tepid parade lap through a typical Houston neighborhood of ranch houses.
Mark instructed me to take advantage of the stretch of beltway ahead of us.
“It’s your license.”