It was subtle, but Daniel Gonzales could feel the difference between 187 mph and 193 mph.

And the difference meant hitting his goal or not.

Gonzales and his Corvette Z06 had arrived at the Goliad County Air Park on Saturday for the semi-annual Texas Mile. He was hoping to squeeze some extra speed out of the 700 horsepower engine and top his past performance. At the event in March, Gonzales had reached 193 mph.

"I hate to say it this way, but the speed is adrenaline; it's like a drug," Gonzales said.

The Texas Mile, a three-day speed festival founded by Shannon and Jay Matus, draws hundreds of automobile and motorcycle junkies from across the country to drive as fast as they possibly can for a mile.

Contestants come with Suzuki Hayabusa motorcycles and turbo-charged Porsche sports cars. There are muscle cars, American-made automobiles fixed up for extra speed and extra sound effect. Lamborghinis and Ferraris arrive with small armies of attendants who pamper the machines and drivers as they prepare for their roughly 30 seconds of performance.

When someone pops a hood, a crowd gathers to peek inside.

"I enjoy looking at all the different cars," Gonzales said. "There's literally everything here, Volkswagens, Chryslers. And the people are nice."

The Matus couple founded Texas Mile in 2003 to offer motorcyclists and sports-car drivers an opportunity to race along a mile stretch of an airport runway without a speed limit. For $235 for two days or $335 for three days, drivers can speed for a mile as many times as they want.

Each driver zips along the runway alone and is timed using a speed-traplike device, Shannon Matus said.

The fastest time ever on the course was 324 mph, but that was by a jet-powered vehicle designed for this kind of event alone, she said. Most of the vehicles bear a general resemblance to the kind of car or motorcycle that might pull up at the average stoplight. The fastest automobile on the course was a Lambor- ghini that registered 250.1 mph.

Race organizers don't keep track of the slowest time.

The Pearland couple organize other events in the state as a hobby, Matus said.

"This is what we do out of passion and our love," she said. "I like to say we were too naïve to know better, then we became too stubborn to quit."

For Jim Capurso of Humble, Saturday was his first attempt at Texas Mile with his black Nissan GT-R, his fourth sports car.

"The first one was the love of my life — well, other than my wife and children," Capurso said. "It was a Corvette."

Capurso's wife was not in love with the cars or the day's endeavor. By about 8:30 a.m. she had texted him nine times encouraging him to be careful, or better yet, to come on home.

But Capurso wanted to test the car's speed. He wasn't quite sure why.

"I just like to go fast," said Capurso, who owns Houston Deli Provisions. "I can't explain it. I'll have to ask God when I see him."

His first run came in at 163 mph, a little disappointing, he said. The second clocked 171 mph.

"It was a fun event," he said. "I look forward - not any time soon - but I look forward to telling the grandkids one day."

Gonzales had come to the event from San Antonio with his wife, Tiffany, 11-year-old son, Jonathan, and a handful of friends. For him, the Texas Mile was part hobby, part professional endeavor.

Gonzales owns Lethal Performance, a business in San Antonio that specializes in performance cars.

Cars have been a passion for Gonzales since he was in his early teens. When he was 15, his father gave him the family's Oldsmobile and helped him rebuild the engine.

For a while, working on muscle cars for friends was a hobby as he drove freight trucks for a living. But as his yard began to look like a garage, his wife encouraged him to start a business.

At first, he worked during the night on the freight-company docks and during the day at the garage. But the schedule was punishing. Eventually, his business took off.

"It's just something I love," he said.

On that Saturday morning, Gonzales was surrounded by people who love cars, motorcycles and speed - so many that they couldn't drive anywhere.

The cars were lined up, three to a row, waiting their turn at the starting line. For more than an hour, they inched forward.

Engines started and stopped. Drivers exited their cars to chat and climbed back in to shuffle forward in line. As he neared his turn, Gonzales and his team of friends pushed the Corvette to keep the engine cool.

Before the starting line Gonzales put on a sweatshirt with long sleeves, gloves and a helmet.

He wasn't sure his Corvette would be able to perform its best. The morning air near Berclair was humid. The wind blew in the wrong direction.

Heading to the starting line, he spun his wheels a little to test the traction. When given the signal, Gonzales took off, leaving a trail of smoke and sound.

He crossed the mile mark, his 187 mph time short of his goal to top his record.

"I knew I wasn't going as fast because at the half-mile mark I'm usually in fifth gear. I wasn't in fifth gear until right after the half. The car still felt fast, it felt good. It just didn't do what we thought it was going to do."

tara.dooley@chron.com