If you've been following the Hemmings Muscle Machines Weekly for awhile, you know that one of our favorite topics is the idea of daily driving a car that was never meant to be driven daily. A race car, of course. Why? Well, because we're suckers for making the wholly impractical, practical. Does it have a roll cage? Well, go on a midnight diaper run in it and be a hero. Is it running a set of fender well headers? Drive it to church on a Sunday morning. No power steering and a heater-delete plate on the dash? Drive it to work for a month straight in February. Non-synchromesh gearbox and a Detroit Locker? Drive-thru burger and shake on the way home from work, once a week.

Now, do we actually do any of this? We'd like to believe we would, if we actually owned a race car with plates, working headlights and a reliable starter. But then, one glorious afternoon last week in heavy traffic, we pulled up alongside this ruler: roll cage, sidepipes, no plates and what looks like a fairly fresh pit-side paint job (or at least paint cut to look like it). And the fact that it was crawling along with the rest of us at parade-route speed, with no coolant trail under it, and a fairly smooth roll through first and second gear? Color us impressed.

Anyone know this guy? We'd like to buy him a beer and thank him for his service...