NERVOUS SURGEONS

 

 

HOT ROD REUNION 

(a meeting of rodders & racers who have not met for sometime)

 

As we motored along the highway bound for the Famoso strip, we looked out onto a landscape peppered with ‘horse head’ oil pumps, some of them were rhythmically bobbing away and as each one disappeared out of view we knew we were getting closer to our destination. With this knowledge, the atmosphere within the bus unmistakeably changed, especially for the Hot Rod Reunion Virgins. I noticed my own heart rate increase and my eyes were constantly scanning the view ahead for the first glimpse of the track. With avenues of Orange trees cascading out to the right, Paul Reece pointed out the track looming up in the distance. (Quick pass me the beta blockers before I pass out!)

 

Pulling into the venue, I prepared to jump out and go to the pre-registry booth to collect our passes for the weekend. I had booked these several months before we travelled and not only did they guarantee us entry but also the added benefits of a goody bag, dash plaque, programme and pit pass on a lanyard. All excellent Hot Rod memorabilia!

 

On returning to the Battle wagon I handed out all the lanyards and goodie bags, as we edged forward to enter the track, all the lanyards had to be collected up again for security to clip the entry for that day. Each day this turned into a ritual with the same security officer who by the final day just waved us through.

 

With the staging lanes and pits on our left we weaved our way through cars and people milling about and parked the battle bus next to the swap meet area. As soon as Merv had put the bus in Park the doors were open and we were out into the crisp early morning Californian air, like a SWAT team we rapidly dispersed amongst the stalls with wallets loaded and fully cocked!

 

 

 

Prices seemed a little high and as we had another 3 days it wasn’t necessary to begin the bartering process.

 

 

Leaving the swap meet area was like walking into another world, a world where trees provided the canopy for Hot Rods and dragsters to seek some shade, a world of polished rims, rusty panels, patina by the bucket load, eye watering machinery and quarter mile celebs of both car and the personality variety.

 

 

The next 10 hours flew by filled as they were with fantastic racing, awesome burnouts, and some truly wonderful cars performing to their very best. With the last glimpses of a fast fading sun, we headed off to the Double Tree Hotel back in Bakersfield. When we arrived the parking lot was ramped with all sorts of automotive hardware and most of us mixed with freely with the other attendees, but Paranoid Paul was suffering, a combination of jet lag and becoming over excited had left him virtually on his knees. It must have been bad, as when they fired up and ran 2 Nostalgia Funny Cars, Paul didn’t even move. All round emotions must have been running high as many of the on lookers were crying, either that or the Nitro fumes had done their stuff.

 

 

 

This glimpse of the night time fire up was just a very small taster of what was to come, as at the conclusion of the main track activities on the next day, the stands were packed as the legendary ‘Cacklefest’ got underway.

 

 

In my opinion the holy grail had been found, the 7^th wonder of the world had arrived in the form of Fuel dragsters, as one after another the push started slingshots snarled and growled their way into life, thundering down the fire up road in front of the stands, with 2 foot high flames ripping their way through the cold night air, each car pulling round and onto the start line area and in one continuous motion continuing up the track until it reached the previous dragster, which was parked at an angle to the stands, then pulling alongside it, but with the engine left firing. After a few minutes there were 20 front engined rails generating a carbon footprint to be proud of and yet they still kept coming, with headers glowing orange, and the rails already in the line on the track, creating that delightful raucous sound as they blipped their throttles. With the music from the engines punching the air and assaulting your eardrums, the Cacklefest was an experience everyone should have at least once in their life.

 

Unfortunately, the best laid plans and all that came to the fore, when the battery on my camera went flat just as the first V8 burst forth into life, so there are no images from that wonderful hour, sorry.

 

 

 

 

It was hard to believe our final day at the drags had arrived, but it had and we were going to make the most of it, with much of it spent in the stands soaking up the atmosphere and the top notch racing.

Greer Black & Prudhomme - a work of art

When you ventured into the pits, it did seem a bit like being back in England, as it seemed that almost every other person was either someone you knew from back home or someone you had seen at an NSRA event and were at least on nodding terms with.

 

 

 

 

   Just a little off the top please!

 

 

 

 

I went off to the Rods West stall and was disappointed to find out, that one of the true characters I had met the previous day had been unable to return. On the Saturday, I had the real pleasure of not only meeting, but also spending over an hour with Rob Stuart. Rob will be known to some of you, he is the man behind Austin Works, he has an addiction to the Austin brand seldom seen, he especially likes everything A40, which has seen him visit these shores on several shopping trips most notably for Beaulieu.

I found my time with him inspirational, as he had a fantastic attitude to life, a wicked sense of humour and an all round good guy, all of this despite, the horrendous car accident he had suffered a few years before, which had left this one agile man, unfortunately paralysed and blind!

He seemed to dismiss these injuries and treat them as more of an inconvenience, that wasn’t going to stop him from enjoying the cars and the atmosphere, the injuries suffered would have been enough to stop any lesser man in their tracks, but not Rob.

I have stayed in touch with Rob since our return, and he still amazes me, as he has continued to add to his extensive collection of A40’s and has even purchased and imported cars from not only England but also Australia. Rob Stuart, Top Bloke!

 

With Rob not in attendance, I made my way to the staging lanes, where I found a collection of the Nostalgia Funny Cars preparing to do battle and what a remarkable sight that was, I truly felt like I was in a time warp, and thought to myself I didn’t get this close to a Funny Car at the Pod in the 70’s or 80’s once again underlining just how special the Hot Rod Reunion is.

 

 

 

 

WARRIOR - Vega bodied powerhouse

 

 

The eventual winner Code Red Racing!

 

 

 

Now that's Nostalgia with a capital 'N'

 

 

 

 

The tribute car with a recreation of Big John Mazmanian Willys

 

During Sunday, I also met and spent sometime discussing all things Gasser with Barb Hamilton, arguably the first lady of the Gasser Wars, to stand next to her Willys talking about the wars was truly memorable and a pleasure. In fact looking back everyone we came across was polite courteous and above all approachable. Paul Reece can vouch for that as he didn’t and still hasn’t stop going on about his encounter with the legendary Linda Vaughan!

 

 

 

 

 

Now that's what I call a set of Zoomie headers

 

 

 

 

With the track finally falling silent, the Hot Rod Reunion was at an end, but as the Battle Bus headed off towards Bakersfield, we decided that we would follow up on a rumour that was doing the rounds at the track. It had been reported that several front engined slingshots were stopping off at the ‘In & Out’ burger bar on the outskirts of Bakersfield.

 

               Just Jim Bragging again?

 

 

Getting ready for night fall !

 

 

                 At last its arriving

 

 

When we arrived only a small number of other attendees had turned up, but sure enough just being rolled off of a trailer was the ‘Vagabond’ and already in the car park was ‘The Magician’, both absolutely stunning pieces of the drag racing art.

 

 

The cars were manoeuvred into position, side by side, and the small crowd informed that we would need to wait until the sun set as the header flames could more readily be seen then.

 

 

As the sun slowly set our anticipation rose, and this time I also had my video camera with me.

Then whilst making sure I had a good vantage point to watch the two V8’s fire and run, a man squeezed past me and prepared to climb into the Magician, I and everyone else suddenly realised who this man was, Don Garlits!

 

 

 

With Don pulling on (what must almost seem like everyday clothing to him) a silver nomex flame retardant hood, the crews busied themselves preparing to fire the motors.

Within a few seconds the remote starters were spinning these leviathans into life, and after the motor had warmed up on high octane fuel both the motors were switched over to the full life blood of Nitro, almost instantly the sound of the engines changed and so did the flames scrabbling to exit the open headers as if they were scared to be burnt by the next firing order flame.

If you want to see it for yourself then go here

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBCmH9P_4PM

 

With headers glowing red the motors once gain fell silent and we all knew that the Hot Rod Reunion had now been concluded, but in manner none of us had expected and far beyond anything we could have dreamt of.

 

We finished off the evening with a blast through the dark to LA and so began another chapter in the trip.