Roadtrip to the Races Part IV

 

By this point, we'd met many of the racers and seen them fly by on the track.  The part of it all we were still missing was seeing the racing action up close, so the next day we made our way to the starting lines to see the cars and bikes launch into their quest to reach their speed goal.

 

 This roadster holds the record in the A and B class, and was racing with a C-class motor this year with hopes of rolling away with that record as well.

The thrill of being at the starting line was not the speed of the vehicles; in fact, they start off rather slowly and sometimes squirrelly as they work through their gears and find stability in speed.  The experience at the starting line was about being mere feet away from these powerful machines, sensing the nerves of the drivers and their crews, and holding your breath for them as they disappear down the track.  It really completed the picture for us.

We spent just half the day on the Salt, bid it a sad farewell and headed to Wendover to watch open drag races on an abandoned airstrip at the Wendover Airport.  We expected to see more hot rods, knowing from the impromptu car show just how many were in town, but the event attracted more muscle cars and imports.  

The only nostalgia racing that went on were these two old Tin Lizzies with original put-put engines.  They got a laugh out of the crowd when the car in the lead slowed down and motioned for his opponent to catch up!

 

 As we were leaving the races, we spotted a perfect background for a photoshoot, and beelined to it.

 A building with perfect patina just fit right in with our preserved rides!

As we were shooting photos, a truck came flying up with flashing lights.  The security guys in it wanted to know what in the world we were doing roaming freely at an active airstrip!  Well, I think we were more surprised than they were!  The place looked pretty deserted, but it turns out that we crossed an active runway to get to...the Enola Gay hangar.  Perhaps we should have done a little research before visiting the historic Wendover Airfield...  Thankfully, security was very understanding of our ignorance and invited us to visit the museum when we were finished with the cameras.  We were more than happy to accept that invitation and learned a lot about the history of the place in the very small museum they have set up currently.  Also on exhibit was this airplane...

 ...that you could go inside and even climb into the cockpit to see what it was like.

They are in the process of restoring buildings on the airfield and raising funds to eventually restore them all.  It will be pretty incredible to see this WWII-era training base brought back to life.

We took our educated selves back to camp, and enjoyed some down time.  Andy had a pinstriper he'd met out on the Salt come to camp and dress up the ol' GMC.  These artists are so fascinating to watch!

Then, Andy and Marc worked to re-route the fuel line away from the heat of the engine in hopes of getting home without choking up every little hill.  We went to bed crossing our fingers...

Roadtrip to the Races, Part III

Day 2 at Bonneville, the Races begin!  We hit the Salt early, with the group of car guys who had joined our caravan from Nampa/Boise area.  We set up a little canopy camp and settled in to watch a few seconds here and there of cars and bikes screaming by at the 4-mile mark of the long track, which was 1/2 mile across the salt from us.

Between the short-lived excitement of each run, we set about finding other sources of entertainment.  Our buddy, Aaron, had purchased a microbike online for us to pick up for him at Bonneville.  We located the seller that morning, and a tiny bike contained in a large suitcase arrived at our canopy camp.

Apparently, it's advertised that it can carry a 300lb person going 18mph.  Hard to believe!

We were just sitting around, waiting for the next fast car, when a man from a local news channel approached the group and asked to do a photoshoot of all the hot rods and drivers!

 Then, he had them do a drive-by for more photos and video.  The guys had a lot of fun with this!

 The rest of the day was spent biking through more pits, and just hanging out in the shade watching races.

Before we left the Salt, Andy drove out toward the mountains a bit for the GMC's own little photo shoot.

 

 

That night, we went to an impromptu car show at one of the many Wendover casinos.  

 

 

And the good times continue...

Roadtrip to the Races, Part II

We'd set up camp with flashlights and gone to sleep with a very limited idea of what this place was like.  

We woke to the sound of hot rods.  Lots of them.

Everyone was headed to the Salt, so we loaded up the ol' GMC and off we went too!

Our camp at the Bend in the Road was on an expanse of salt and soil mixed, with a shrub here and there.  A mile or so down the road we found the End of the Road.

Once you leave the pavement, there is just brilliantly white salt as far as you can see, edged with a mountain range.  For the Speed Week events, orange cones were set up for miles, directing traffic on this seemingly boundless dry lake bed.

 Many of the cars passing by were owner-built.  This was better than a car show!


Races would not start until the next day, but all the drivers had gone through orientation that morning and would be setting up pits and going through inspections to be approved for racing.  So, the plan was to make our way through the racers' pits and absorb all we could.  We parked the truck and took to the bicycles for the day.

 
Everything except tech inspection was open to the public, and the whole attitude of the place was surprisingly friendly and down-to-earth.

The first few pits we stopped into were streamliners - these are the cars that really scream down the track.  They are very low to the ground and aerodynamic, with engines optimized to the max.  The owners and pit crew were happy to answer questions and tell stories of the cars' history.

This streamliner was electrically powered, and was designed and built by engineering students at BYU.

Then, there was the jaw-dropping Blowfish.

This car was built inside and out to show car standards.  Absolutely stunning.  Every piece of it is well thought-out and so carefully executed.  It was built by Rad Rides by Troy, if you want to look up more info.
Amazingly, competitors would visit one another's booths to share their strategies and give tips to their opponents.  No secrets in this all-out race-for-the-pure-joy-of-it atmosphere!

Perhaps the most intriguing to us were the racers who came without the big names and deep pockets.  Those who built their idea of a racemobile and came with a dream to experience the thrill of racing on the Salt.  This father-son rookie team was so excited to be there!  They'd spent hours together on their belly tanker, and were hoping it would pass through inspections so they could get it out on the track.

 
 Another pit that we were drawn to was this team from France.  They spoke very limited English, and we knew even less French, but we unraveled their story with a lot of gestures and pictures and common Latin-based words.
 
 The story was quite similar to that of "The World's Fastest Indian" (a movie about Burt Munro, a New Zealander who first raced his homebuilt motorcycle on the Salt in the late 60s).  The fellow in the red shirt built much of the bike by hand, even the pistons!  That book of photos shows his step-by-step process, and he is describing one part of it there.  This was the family's first time to the States, although it had been the father's dream for years.  The bike was not built to break any records, but he still wanted the chance to drive as fast as he could on the Salt.  There were three motorcycles in the shipping container the bike came over in.  The airbags separating them popped in transit and the bikes were damaged when they fell against each other.  As he told the story, he kept saying "Just like Burt Munro you know!"


In such a unique landscape, it was common to see photo shoots taking place out away from the designated "roadways".  Even better, the car owners and photographers loved to tell you all about the car in the spotlight.
The "City of Salt Lake" was homebuilt in Salt Lake City and challenged the world record in 1960, but wrecked in the attempt.  The late driver's son carefully restored the car and is writing a book about his father, Athol Graham's dream.  One of the peaks in that mountain range is named after him.

" 198C", a 1940 Ford, is a head-turning show car now; however, in the 50's this beauty had a pit crew and a speed goal too.  We had a great conversation with the owner as it was in the middle of a photo shoot by the same magazine that featured it nearly 50 years ago.

Also common on the Salt were shade devices of all shapes and sizes!

 

 

Creativity was everywhere we turned. 

Even some of the push cars were rather unusual.

We thoroughly enjoyed our first day on the Salt Flats.  There was so much to see and learn from the wide range of people and vehicles, all with the same goals - to have fun and go fast.

Roadtrip to the Races, Part I

We made it!  We drove that old truck 'n' trailer all the way to the Bonneville Salt Flats and back!  Now for those of you who haven't sat through our longwinded tale of the trip, settle in for some reading.

2:30pm on August 11, our travel group gathered (after waiting approx. 6.5 hours for the last members of the party) to hit the road south to the Nampa area.  The trailers were all being pulled for the first time by these owners, and our truck and Marc's car were only minimally tested for roadworthiness.  For this reason, the late start had us a bit uptight.  As we slowly climbed the first hill and watched the temperature gauge needle rapidly climbing, panic set in.  We lost power toward the top and Andy thought for sure the motor was seizing.  We pulled over the first chance we got and everyone gathered 'round to look for the source of the problem.  Bad thermostat? bad gauge? bad radiator? so many possibilities...

While the brainstorming was going on, I watched the temp needle continue to climb until it pegged past all markings and numbers.  If the gauge wasn't bad before, it certainly was now!  Having no other way to measure temperature, we turned back home for the infrared thermometer.  Everything checked out warm, but not scary-hot there, so we packed the thermometer with us and up the hill we went again, pulling off to take  some thermo readings at the top.  Everything under the hood was uncomfortably hot, so we called the local parts stores to locate a new radiator and all the possibilities were discussed again.  Eventually, the guys discovered an air bubble in the top radiator hose that was preventing the cooled fluid from circulating.  That was an easy fix and off we went again - stopping in Moscow to pick up the new radiator for just-in-case and to install a new temp. gauge for the long, hilly road ahead.  Finally, at 4:30pm, we were on our way again.  We braced for every hill, but made it through Lewiston and Lapwai without another problem.  Then, as we climbed the Winchester Grade, our engine started cutting out.  We pulled over just short of the top, and came to the conclusion that we had run out of gas!  We hadn't tugged the trailer behind before, and our roadside calculations put us at 5mpg.  This was going to be a rather expensive trip!

We were carrying spare gas with us, so dumped that in and continued on.  But...at the top of the hill, the engine was starving for fuel again!  Now what?  We topped off at the gas station there, noticing that the 20-gallon tank was only 6 gallons low, and the guys fiddled with the carburetor to see if that might be the problem instead.  Away we went again, had no problems, and arrived at our destination for the night just before 1am...exhausted and relieved.  Our host had planned a surprise welcome party for us (expecting us around 8pm), but only a few stragglers remained to greet the tardy travelers.  They all had numbers written on their palms, which turned out to be their bet for our time of arrival.  Quite the people who would make the most of waiting 5 hours!  We all slept in our trailers for the first time that night - it was comfy.

Andy and I woke early to a very quiet yard.  Nobody else was stirring except the fellow who lived there.  We couldn't sleep anymore, so we wandered about the place, fixed a few things on the trailer, met the other hotrodders who were joining our caravan as they arrived, and finally woke the rest of our party up to finish this roadtrip to Bonneville.

We made it just south of Boise before stopping for a couple of hours so the ill-prepared of our group could grocery shop for the week.  We turned it into a lunch break for us, and got to know the other guys in the caravan better.  As we continued on, we noticed Marc's trailer was fishtailing horribly every time he went downhill , was passed by a truck, or drove too fast.  We alerted him over the 3-way radio, and he wasn't concerned.  We stopped for gas in one fo the small towns along Hwy 30 - it was a sight to see.  Too bad it wasn't a retro gas station!

Finally, while stopped there, we convinced Marc that his swaying trailer was serious enough to need fixed.  He found a hotrod shop / U-Haul store where they would fix his hitch, and the rest of us found some shade in a nearby park to pass the time.

And, the drive continued with no more dancing trailers!  We drove through the desert of Southern Idaho, with curiously green patches of irrigated fields...

...then, into the desert of Nevada, with.....umm....?

Of course it is on such an endless stretch of road that our hardworking engine can't find fuel again, and we found ourselves on the side of the road looking for solutions.  A very kind streetrodder stopped, and his ride drew a crowd.  It was beautifully done, and he was going to drive it down on the salt too!

Our problem turned out to be vapor lock - the gas was getting so hot that it turned to vapor in the lines and the carburetor apparently doesn't count that as adequate fuel to run the engine!  The temporary solution available in the middle of the Nevada desert was to remove the truck's hood to allow more airflow to cool the fuel lines.

We took the remainder of the hills very slowly, and were soooo excited to finally see the sign for Bonneville at dusk.

Once again, tired and relieved, we pulled into our 'campground'.  This time, instead of in a buddy's backyard, we claimed a little patch of the huge expanse of desolate land known as the Bend in the Road.

The adventure begins continues...

You, Me, and #3

In the time we've been together, Andy and I have worked to get 3 pretty cool old vehicles road-worthy.  Our first summer was spent making the Buick more reliable.  That kept us pretty entertained until the Dodge came along the summer before we were married. Once life settled down again, Andy worked to build that Dodge up from the ground to a head-turning hot rod.  Last Fall, plans of starting a hot rod business were forming and Andy was keeping his eye out for a shop truck.  And he found one!  The GMC belonged to a guy who was transferred for his job and did not want to move it with him, so it came home with us.  A week ago, we rolled project #3 out of the shop just after dark and went for a little joy ride, balancing precariously on upside-down 5-gallon buckets!

A few more evenings in the shop and driving it to work in the mornings, and August 4 was here.  After work, we planned to pack a picnic and head for the hills in our "new" ride.  We filled up with gas and hit the road for home.  Less than a mile from the gas station, we sputtered to a stop on the side of the road.  There's no way we could be out of gas, but it sure acted like it!  So we rested on the side of road and made a few phone calls to see if we could get help at the parts store after hours.  As luck would have it, somebody was still there and we were able to start the truck again and get it going downhill to the store.  A new fuel pump seemed to do the trick and we were on our way again with the sunlight fading fast.

We were still determined  to celebrate our 3 years of happily ever after with a backroads drive in the GMC, so we took off for the hills racing sunset.

We had a great time cruising the gravel roads in our old farm truck, spontaneously deciding which way to go at each fork in the road.

And the waning sunlight turned out to be perfect for a photo shoot!

 

We even got to see a mama moose and baby pretty close-up...nervously putting the truck in reverse at one point when it looked like she might run us down!

Looking forward to many more memorable anniversaries, and oodles of happy memories in between.