 |
 |
||||
|
|||||
  |
|
||||
|
If you dig old drag racing cars and have never been to this event, you MUST attend this affair before you die. The future of this race is unknown as the lease is about to expire. There is some question regarding how much the decision makers upstairs at NHRA care about the Reunion since it is not a big money maker. I'm not talking about Gibbs and Sharp. The funds generated from this event support the year round existence of the NHRA Museum in Pomona, and we'd all hate to see that go away. Everyone assumes the CHRR and Museum will just keep going, but it ain't that simple. Hats off to Greg Sharp, Steve Gibbs, and their staff who made CHRR #10 happen. It ran like a Swiss watch and made a lot of people very happy in an old way. Seeing the restored FED's was great, but seeing the people again was even better. Greek, Garlits, TC, Muravez, Jeep & Ronnie, Fuller, Safford, Bob Spar, Jobe, the Dead End Kids, Cochran, Foster, even Broadway Bob Metzler was there! I have it on good authority that Big currently has a deep burning desire to return to Top Fuel Racing once again to race with the young whippersnappers. Why would he have a burning desire specifically after accomplishing all he has in his life? The main reason is that somebody in National Dragster's "Tricky Tipster" said, six years ago or so, that Garlits would never win another NHRA Major Meet. Gar has his pride, and was deeply insulted by that dig. Just another sword slash at Big from the NOT HARDLY RACING ANYMORE bunch. Personally, I've always loved it when some idiot runs his mouth in print but never has the balls to sign their name to what their big mouth sez. But then we've always known that National Dragster has always been a stellar icon of automotive journalism, haven't we? Two things happened at the Reunion that I'll never forget. The first was the Standard 1320 Charity Auction. Months back the Standard 1320 mailing list group concocted the idea of holding a racing memorabilia auction to benefit the family of the late Eric Fuller who passed away earlier this year, leaving his wife and children in need of some help to pay the bills. Members and non-members started kicking in parts and pieces, old T-shirts, photos, etc. to be auctioned off. John Ewald stepped up and took charge of the organization of the auction and did the auctioneering chores admirably. The auction took place Saturday night in the large tent immediately following Cacklefest. It raised $25,000 for the cause. Other Standard 1320 members who helped make the auction reality included Mr. & Mrs. Don Ewald, Darielle "Moody" Price and "The Auction Gopher Gang" including Bill Pratt, Motorcycle Mike, Dan Kaplan, George & Karen Adams, Warren Withers, Jesse Chavez, Vic Cooke, Stan Weber, Ryan Fuller, Bill Turney, Mr. Madmood, The Guy who carried the Slicks, the less famous TC, and Riceman. The second thing I'll never forget occurred on Sunday. One of the items that was auctioned off Saturday was an opportunity to sit in the restored Winkle & Trapp "Magicar" while owner Bill Pitts and crew fired the engine. The driveline was disconnected so there was no chance of driving over everyone in the pit area. I bought a seat in the Magicar at the auction for $200 and it was the best double C-note I ever spent in my life. Pitts, a fireman from Carlsbad, CA, has a deep burning passion for old school Top Fuel diggers. Obsession might be a better word to describe it. He restored this car and is the guy who pioneered the Cacklefest. On a regular basis throughout the weekend he fires the blown Chizler and lets different people sit in the seat to experience the awesome power up real close.
The first thing I did was remove all the junk from my pockets and take off my shoes so I would fit in the car. Aided by Bill and his crew, I climbed up on a slick and carefully slid, wriggled and was lowered and wedged into the seat. I'm only 5 ft. 10, but my wide shoulders and 235 pound bod were a tight squeeze to say the least. I was really shoehorned in the cage, which was obviously designed and built by Kent Fuller, for a normal-bodied human. Bill gave me a pre-flight check-out on the kill switch, fuel shutoff, etc. and offered full face mask/hood, goggles, ear muffs, etc. for protection. I wanted to get a full snootfull of nitro and experience the raw power acappella, so took a set of goggles, ear muffs and a rag to cover my nose should the need arise. As it turned out I only ended up using the ear muffs because the noise of the Zoomies was so intense I didn't want to sacrifice my hearing for life all in the name of fun. I was then all set and ready to experience the 1,400 horsepower of a blown Chrysler on 90% nitro from the business end. They locked the starter onto the front of the blower drive switched it on, and a rumbling commences as the engine began turning over. Bill shot a couple squirts of go juice in the hole in the rear side of the Enderle bugcatcher and the hemi barks to life. Immediately you feel the power coursing through the frame rails. And you definitely hear the motor. And the chills are not only going up and down your spine, they are streaming throughout every synapse of your body as if the magneto is attached to your own personal and private pair of battery terminals between your legs. After it idles a bit and warms up, Bill steps up, gives me a nod, reaches down for the throttle linkage and gives it a tug. WHOOMPA! And I mean BIG TIME WHOOMPA! Now I've got to hold the brake lever cause when the r's jump, the car wants to move forward. I'm laughing out loud because I can't remember when I've had so much fun. Bill cracks the throttle a couple more times to jazz the r's, and feels the sides of the heads with his hands for a temp check. Then he turns to me with a closed fist pointing toward me with one thumb up and gives me the "wack it" signal. I slip my sock into the hoop over the loud pedal, clear my mind for the experience and bap the throttle one time. UNBELIEVABLE! This nitro-guzzling machine is responding to my body. For years I've lived at the pushout road and in the photographer's areas at Lions and dozens of other tracks and NHRA/AHRA/PDA championships. I've watched fuelers come directly at me and pass beneath me from the photographer's catwalk at the finish line Champion bridge at Riverside raceway. I even was the starter and pulled the green flag on Jack Chrisman in the twin Chev, plywood-nosed Howard Cam Special. But nothing I've ever seen or heard comes close to the experience of sitting behind the butterfly wheel with a living, breathing, snarling, nitro-gulping hemi under your toes. Stab the throttle again and the noise quintuples as the Chrysler shouts its song. WHOOMPA! More laughter, more chills, as the energy squirts throughout your nervous system and mind. Yeeee Haaaa. Life don't get no better than this. Enjoy the moment. Savor the sweet hot rod thunder. Too soon the end is near. Pitts clenches his horizontal fist, pulls it slowly toward his chest and I know it's time to pull the fuel shutoff. The r's climb and you hear that distinctive sound of a fueler about to lean out and shut off. It's over. But the memory of this moment will never fade away; it has been hammered into my brain where it will forever stay. Thanks, Bill Pitts, for making your fantasy my reality.
|
||||
|
Copyright 1999-2001, Drag Racing Online and Racing Net Source |
|
||||
Just
returned from CA Hot Rod Reunion #10 in Bakersfield. This was my second
CHRR (did one about five years ago) and I had a blast. If you can't
have fun at the Patch, better check your pulse to see if you're still
alive. 
