The final test. When returning to the Army from leave in 1971, I was taking US-54 from KS to NM. In those days it was a pretty lonely stretch of two-lane road. I came upon a bunch of locals with a early 60’s chevy who were on the shoulder. The car looked like a classic “low rider”, but it was just because the shoulder was soft after a rain - they were “high-centered” with the whole frame on the ground. They had a chain and I had a cable, so we hooked up with my car on the hard pavement with 3 or 4 of them sitting on my trunk-lid for traction, I eased out the slack nursing my 11” Shaefer all aluminum clutch & flywheel. (Some may remember that these clutch/flywheels were bronze-faced.) I slowly let the clutch out while feeding in more throttle until I was at full throttle at 3,000 rpm, at which point the chevy slowly was sucked out of its mud hole. The tires never broke loose and “OH, that’s right!” - the welded shaft in the trans held. (Only afterwards did it occur to me that if I broke my welded shaft, I was a marooned few hundred miles away from “home” and would be AWOL.)