From the Galleria past Beltway 8, as Saturday night gives way to Sunday, the strip-mall parking lots on Westheimer host impromptu car shows, with ball-capped guys checking out each other's mods. You hear words like "cams" and "noz." You feel the sub-bass rumble of Corvettes eager to exceed the speed limit. You see the racing stickers and parking lights that separate racing imports from "civilian" cars. The racers cruise in packs up and down Westheimer, challenging each other at stoplights by tapping their brakes, honking at their friends and watching, always, for someone new to take on.