A cruelly decaffeinated 5:00AM buzzbomb flight from Medford,
Oregon dropped me at Portland, where I transferred to a Phoenix jaunt that
released me into 113 degrees of desert splendor. From Arizona, I blasted straight
into the heart of America’s Heartland: Omaha, Nebraska. My brother Wayne (AKA
Rocky) lives there and picked me up in the company car – his Chevy HHR
delivery. We paid regards to the usual suspects, like Jimmy Vaag and Dar Borchers, but we were bitterly disappointed to have missed By God Tom
Allen and Ol’ Beck.
Our first stop was Speedway Motors in Lincoln, where we spent
two days shooting photos for the new top secret Cartech book. This was Wayne’s freshman
day as my loyal and faithful assistant. He worked like a dog and was a huge help. Special thanks to Damon Lee at Speedway for making the ordeal
comfy and fun. Damon and his dad John are both grizzled veteran photo
journalists and hot rodders. These guys definitely know what time it is.
Employeemobiles
in the Speedway lot. The mammoth structure in the background is the sales and
warehouse building. The other end of it is two blocks away.
Our
business would be conducted in Speedy Bill Smith’s colossal Museum of American
Speed (AKA The Smith Collection). Damon Lee (reflected in glass) tossed us the keys
and we had our way with the joint. 99% of our photos were for the new Cartech book, but we did click a few tourist snapshots to share with
you.
While
most everything in the museum is vintage, this Northstar powered prototype
Cadillac racer provided a taste of modern juxtaposition.
Speedway
built this clone of Iowan Tiny Lund’s ’56 Pontiac NASCAR bomber. The dual quad
316, 3-speed, and ’57 Poncho rearend were right on. Before he was killed at
Talledega, Tiny teamed with Speedy Bill and Johnny Beauchamp on an Indy quest.
I skinned my chin on the floor upon entering this room. You
wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through over the last nine months, trying to
get pix of these three cars for a certain book project. Both end cars are the
originals, while Mark Moriarity’s clone of Ed Roth’s Outlaw takes center stage.
Thought you toy collectors might get a kick out of this glimpse of Billy’s toybox.
These
shots weren’t book worthy, so here ya go. #303 was named for its punched out
flathead. Built in ’52, its home track was Santa Ana, where it ruled, big time.
It also soaked up ink from Hot Rod, Motor Trend, Hop Up, Motor Life and Speed
Age.
Impulsive snapshot, on our way out the door. But this wasn't the last we'd see of the Wee Eel...
With the Speedway shoot in the bag, we connected with Wayne’s
son Jerm (AKA Jeremy) for a sleep deprivation run to Arnold, Nebraska and the
Sandhills Open Road Challenge – a series of three driving events contested over
one weekend in this remote farm town of 600 people. The town was in danger of
blowing off the map until thirteen years ago, when local speed freaks alerted
hot shoes nationwide to the sprawling deserted roads around Arnold. Since then,
the SORC race has resuscitated Arnold’s economy and paid for a new Community
Center, fire protection, and somebody said they even built a schoolhouse there.
160 racers decended on this one-motel town (the motel has five rooms), but part
of the deal is being taken in by the locals, who fed and sheltered racers for
the weekend. Amazing.
Last year, Wayne and son Jerm took the GBR ZO6 Corvette to the Texas Mile, in search of 180 MPH. Despite their best efforts, neither could coax the Tupperware bowtie across the 180 threshold. This plaque has been the sour carrot on their stick ever since. They’d love to replace it with something in a size eight…
Blood on the highway. Two semis trying to occupy
the same space equaled at least one fatality - a local gear jammer from the
Arnold area. The other driver’s fate was still uncertain when we left town,
days later. Heads up out there, kids.
Later that evening, we arrived at Jim Holman’s place in
Arnold. What a host! 85 year old Jim (on front porch) gave us the rock star treatment, along with a dozen other racers. More on him later...
We
instantly hightailed it to a nearby farm, where Tech-in was underway in a tin
building normally reserved for jumbo farm machinery.
Local high school kids were enlisted as support workers all
weekend. This guy’s job was applying the numbers to our entry. He was digging
it.
We passed inspection with no problem (great preparation,
Jerm).
Ride
Tech owner Bret Voelkel couldn’t escape his shop, so he posted a contest
online: Tell me why you should take my place and I’ll gift you my entry. Sean
Fling, who works at Procharger in Kansas City, had the best sob story and won
his way into the SORC mayhem. The ’63 Fairlane longroof runs a D1S Procharger
on a 4.6 mod motor. He had a blast, to put it lightly.
Spotted outside the Tech building, this entry was the Gosson
Bros. Racing pick of the weekend, though it never turned a tire. Drivetrain was
stock, but colorful tales of area test runs made it our early favorite.
The
Lingenfelter Camaro already has a legacy of “firsts”. The streak continued at
Arnold, with Top Fuel shoe David Grubnic in the seat…
Early the next morning, I used the HHR to follow Rocky and
Jerm as they refreshed their memories of the road course (they last ran here in
2008). I managed to keep them in sight until I crossed paths with this guy. To
the best of my memory, this is the first time I’ve been pulled over on a race
course by the Highway Patrol. After the standard begging and pleading, we all
received written warnings and orders to inform our fellow racers that exceeding
the 55 MPH limit would not be tolerated before race day. We exceeded that by,
um, a bit.
Back
in town, both watering holes were jammed with bench racers. I wandered around
and caught some local color.
Ray
Bernhard from Casper, Wyoming is still being razzed about scattering his engine at the 2008 event. Ray and his posse are tuning on this side street,
in between runs on a chassis dyno set up there, while Rocky supervises. Thanks to this info, he picked
up 35+ horsepower. And the Gen 1 smallblock (a rarity among LS motors at the
SORC) held together all weekend.
That night, the locals threw a killer steak dinner at the
city park. I snapped cars in between courses.
Very, very, very early on Friday morning, we all caravanned
about 30 miles to the outskirts of Gothenburg for the ½ Mile
and 1 Mile Shootouts. The “race course” was extremely narrow and rough (locals
call the oiled road, “The Oil”). Spectator seating standing was roomy,
but perilous, as we shared a field with annoyed cattle that were apparently
bred for fertilization purposes. Watch your step… No one cared, as a street
race adrenaline vibe filled the air with giddy energy.
We got three runs in the 1 Mile: A 176.6, and FINALLY, a 180.3, backed up with a
180.2!!!
Saturday
was road course day – our return to the scene of the crime. Once again, Wayne
was Jerm’s navigator (which also means keeping track of the timed checkpoints
on his hastily scribbled notes, because “That GPS just distracts me”. That’s our
roommates (and newlyweds), John and Linda Sandahl, getting into their race
jammies and cruising their Ol’ Yeller Vette to the “staging lanes” (AKA 3rd
Street, I think).
Clicking
staging lane pix while waiting our turn.
Dig
the 12-volt Christmas tree. The GBR entry broke out (ran too fast) on the run
to the next town (about 30 miles) where lunch was served (not a timed event,
but you wouldn’t know it by watching these guys eat), then they scrubbed off some time on the return run to Arnold. Rocky: "Slow down, man!" Jerm: “Hey, I came here to go fast!” We didn’t place, but had a blast not doing it.
We
returned to Jim’s place to clean up for another dinner in the park – part of
the awards ceremony.
The
people of Arnold fed us like Kings, then we kicked back to digest the awards.
John and Linda bagged Fastest Street Car for their 198 MPH performance on the 1
Mile. Optima’s Jim McIlvaine shot Grubby accepting the prize for blowing
Lingenfelter’s Camaro to smithereens on the 1 Mile finish line. Jerm and Rocky
even scored a plaque for most consistent speeds on the 1 Mile. We were
satisfied and tickled, too.
Sunday
morning breakfast at Jim’s. He’s a retired certified welder, who’s flung sparks
across the globe over 85 years. Most of that work was done inside steel
structures, so his hearing is junk. But he still welds, and edits multiple
newsletters for various welding organizations. Mainly, he’s a great guy. His
daughters Pam and Brenda did the heavy lifting all weekend at the house. That’s
Pam at the breakfast table. These people, and their fellow Arnoldians, made a
great event even greater by reminding us of what “community” really means. We
can’t thank them enough. Consider Arnold, Nebraska for your next vacation
destination. It’s an experience that will stick with you like none other.
NEXT TIME: BONNEVILLE!
