Ronnie Mankins Interview

Young lion, hungry for speed at the feeding grounds. James Warren and Tom West loiter in the background, while Ronnie hangs with The Hawaiian at the 50th Winternationals. 

Back row,L-R: Ronnie, Kelley and Taylor Mankins, who has picked up the torch and is running with it. Front row: Photo session security provided by Roxy Ann and Remington Grace.

The family car and shop truck. This ’55 Chevy workhorse was previously owned by local hero Don Coghill - charter member of Southern Oregon Timing Association. Note numbers-matching Corvette 327 in bed, for customer.

He lives down on the corner. When you drive by his place, you can occasionally catch a glimpse of him walking from the house out to the garage. He’s a fixture in any crowd. His face pops up at almost every event I attend – always grinning, savoring the scene. He’s a family guy, a businessman, a passionate racer and fan. He could be anyone, living anywhere. But Ronnie Mankins is my friend and neighbor. He’s a regular SGE reader and enjoys the interviews. But, since friends police each other, Ronnie called BS on my penchant for being the voice of Joe Toolbox on paper, while interviewing celebrities exclusively on this blog. Busted. I decided to oblige him. And as it turns out, he’s the perfect example of one of my favorite hypotheses: Listen to anyone for a few minutes and you’ll usually hear something that triggers insight into yourself, in the process. I didn’t need a very big stethoscope to discover what makes Ronnie tick…

Born and raised right here in Medford, Oregon, Ronnie has never lived anywhere else. We both grew up here (albeit several years apart), but we didn’t meet until about fifteen years ago. Ronnie's Mankins Motorsports company supplied race transporters to a lot of the big dogs on the circuit. But last year, the realities of the economy forced the restructuring of the business, and Ronnie took to buying and selling hot rods and parts to keep the jackals at bay. We cleared out space for two chairs amid the ever-changing overflow of speed parts in Ronnie’s garage, and got down to it.

The scene of the interview: Ronnie’s garage. Dave Hix' Funny Car frame is being updated and shortened to accept a Fiat Topolino body for Altered duty.


Scotty: When I was a punk tyke in 1966, my cowgirl sister used to drag me along to your dad’s western wear store downtown, at least once a week. It was kind of a scene. Were you already into cars during that time? I was already hopelessly hooked, but you were even younger than me. 

Experiencing Altered visions on Grandpa’s tractor. This poor kid never had a chance at normalcy.

Ronnie: “I’ve been into cars ever since I can remember. When I was five years old, my grandmother wrote a letter to Richard Petty on my behalf. He replied in writing and sent some photos and STP decals. I wish my grandmother had kept that letter! I still have the poster my grandparents brought back from the Daytona 500 that shows, three-wide: David Pearson, Richard Petty and A.J. Foyt. During that same period, my dad had a Sanger flat bottom boat that he special ordered from Larry “Schwaby” Schwabenland (he ran the Climax Blown Fuel Hydroplane) at Sanger Boats. That’s when I was bitten by the bug. I loved going fast with my dad in that boat!
When I was eight years old, my parents took me to my first drag race – the Winston Points Meet at Medford’s Jackson County Drag Strip. I’ll never forget it: The sights, sounds, and people – it was sensory overload! I got to meet Dave Uyehara, who was driving the Good, Bad and Ugly Top Fuel dragster then. I saw Ed “The Ace” McCulloch driving the Super Shops Funny Car, Raymond Beadle driving the Blue Max Funny Car, and so many others… I still have the photos of that race that I took with my Kodak camera.”

When chromemoly sorcerer Dave Uyahara brought his latest Fueler to Medford's Bizarre department store (now a Food-4-Less) for an appearance, Ronnie (left) and brother Randy were all over the photo op, and made a new friend.

SGE: Jeez, you had a killer holeshot on the racing microcosm, compared to most of us. When did you get your first car? When you were nine?


Ronnie: “No, I had to wait until I was twelve, before I started driving my dad’s truck in the country and around our family trailer business lot. And yes, it was a four speed. I’d built my own truck by the time I could legally drive to school, and it won the high school car show in 1985. I sold it to restore a ’72 K-5 Blazer – completely frame-off, with a lot of trick stuff done to it. At that time, I met Charlie Allin and Chris Plankenhorn – a couple of local speed freaks – and started a friendship that has lasted ever since. The first fast car I drove down the strip was Charlie’s Nova. During the 12 second pass I made, I decided what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.
I started shopping for a project and Frank Klustenbecker had a car for Charlie and I to look at. I’ll never forget that, either... Frank wasn’t home on the night we went to check it out, so all we could do was look through the garage door glass, with just enough light shining on what would be the next chapter of my life. I remember Charlie saying, in a real positive tone, “That’s the car!” It was a ’55 210 Chevy sedan. We built it and it eventually ran 9.71 at 137.”

Ronnie’s ’55 was infamous. Its legend lives on, though the car is now a Canadian citizen.

SGE: Klustenbecker? Ha! I always thought Frank’s last name was Clusterbreaker. Thanks for clearing that up. And that ’55 is no stranger to this blog. You guys did beautiful work on that – a total badass street/strip car. You, Charlie and Chris were running in fast company then, but how did you make the jump from fast street cars to the Altereds and Diggers you’re now known for shoeing?

Ronnie: “Just prior to my ’55 being finished at Allin Specialties, enter Gary Ryan and his Pure Adrenaline Altered. Gary’s a close friend. He brought the car up from South San Francisco to a nostalgia race in Medford. The night before the race, I was at dinner with Gary and he says, ‘Do you want to drive a real race car?’ I jumped in the car the next day. After Gary gave me full instruction, I made my first shakedown run – a 13 second shutoff pass. My second pass was 9.45 and the third was an 8.64. One month later, I licensed in my ’55 Chevy at Sacramento Raceway and later licensed in the Altered. I was really hooked by now…”

SGE: Man, I was so happy for you while that was happening. It all fell into place like it was meant to be. The story still makes me smile. And that was only the beginning…

Ronnie: “Well, yeah. I later drove an Altered for Denny Gilliland. That was a great opportunity, and that car went 7.60, every time. I also crewed for Tom Hoover’s Funny Car, local hero Mike Austin’s Top Alcohol Dragster, Steve Federlin’s TAD, Dave Hix’ Fuel Altered and Dave West’s Beebe & Mulligan AA/FD. I also drove Dennis Schneider’s nostalgia dragster – an old original car that was a total time capsule!”

Whether wrenching or shoeing, Ronnie always keeps badass company. He’s working with Dave West here on the Beebe & Mulligan T/F digger at Famoso Raceway.

Pit thrash at Boise, with Dave Hix (aiming timing light). Ronnie’s in the seat.

Whipping Dennis Schneider’s early 70s rail down Champion Raceway, in Medford.

Ronnie worked for Renegade Coaches when they assisted Tony Thacker and the NHRA Museum with transporting several iconic cars from Las Vegas to L.A. Hey Ronnie, aren’t the cars supposed to be transported INSIDE the trailer? This one’s the real deal, kids. Ronnie’s cheeks are two of the few to dent “Cookie’s” office chair.

Jangle around enough dragstrips and you start making friends like these guys. Ronnie, hanging with personal heroes Jim McClennan (left) and Art Chrisman - the respective Drag Kings of northern and southern California. 

SGE: I would think that crewing on those cars gave you some mechanical insight into them that pays off behind the butterflies at decision time.

Ronnie: “It was very educational. But also - well, I just can’t tell you how much fun that was, and is!”

SGE: Hey, you don't have to explain it to me. So, what’s next?


Ronnie: “I have big dreams, but I need to find the money to get to that next level. I would love to upgrade my license to drive a Nostalgia Fuel Funny Car, or whatever may come along first. I’ll just say this: You won’t find anyone with more drive and heart!”

SGE: I’ll second that… So, given the chance, would you prefer to continue racing at the Nostalgia level, drive something in the Big Show, or what?

Ronnie: “I’d love to compete in the nostalgia nitro shows and transition to the Big Show, if opportunity knocks. If so, I’d prefer to drive a Funny Car, although I’d certainly give a dragster a shot.”

SGE: Like myself, you’ve had to close your business and hustle to survive. If or when the economy turns around, how would your life be different?

Ronnie: “That’s a great question. In a good economy, I think my chances would be better for race media relations and marketing, to further my opportunities as a driver. My past will only make me smarter for the future. I've been a business owner for over twelve years and my people and management skills are the glue that have kept it going, through these hard times.”

SGE: You have a deep-set respect and passion for racing history, especially locally. Where did that come from and what drives that passion today?

Ronnie: “I started drawing cars and dragsters when I was young. I was also building model cars and reading Cartoons magazine. I really enjoyed the old stories of how simple things were back in the day. A lot of people have paved the way for us to enjoy the hobby/sport we have today. I just think the history is important to know. It’s kind of like wanting to know about your family tree.”

Grandma may have tossed Ronnie’s Richard Petty letter, but lots of artifacts remain. These are but a small sample of his pre-adolescent drawings.

The photo collection fills the house and garage. This tiny sampling of Ronnie's massive local history documentation was shot at the White City Drag Strip, now known as Avenue G. Not many local clubs run plaques anymore, but they were mandatory equipment back then. Recognize your car or plaque?

SGE: Well, it’s embarrassing to admit this Ronnie, since I’m older than you, but I didn’t know half of the local hot rod history until you enlightened me. Thank you for that, and caring for these priceless photos and other artifacts that have completely taken over your house and your life. These are the roots of our little Rogue Valley family tree. May it continue to produce acorns like us, to terrorize the valley well into the future.


Ronnie: "Hey, thanks for the bandwidth on here. This was a lot of fun!"


Photos Courtesy of Ronnie Mankins Collection

The Spiritual Ingredient of Ink

You’ve heard me say it a hundred times by now: I’m the luckiest guy in town. But I don’t believe in luck. Here’s one more example: Reading about my heroes in magazines as a kid, I felt that getting ink must be the highest honor you could aspire to. And today, thanks to some cosmic plan that I’ll probably never comprehend, I tell people’s stories in magazines and books. There’s no logical way to get here from where I come from: I dropped out of school and left home at 14 years old to street race full time. The education I received on the streets had a certain survival value, but nothing that prepared me for dealing with humans in the real world. Working with others in various fabrication shops hastened the development of people skills somewhat, but it wasn’t until one of my own cars got some magazine ink that I began to understand the human factor as it relates to hot rod exploitation. Suddenly, people identified me as The Guy Who Built That Car. I wore my new identity proudly for a little while and savored the ego stroke. Doors opened. But after a few weeks, I began to feel shallow about it. Within a few months, the whole phenomenon seemed absurd to me. This was the beginning of my real education.

Push some quarters into the time continuum transporter and set it for 2002. I don’t believe in coincidence, but that’s the code word I use to explain the chain of events that landed me at Rod & Custom and Car Craft magazines as a contributor (freelancer), thanks to very helpful nudges from Tim Bernsau, Jim Adolf, Jeff Smith, Gerry Burger and several others who took the time to read my scribbles and encouraged me to keep trying. My current bosses – Scott Parkhurst at Cartech and Dave Wallace at Hot Rod Deluxe – were met in the exact same needle-in-a-haystack fashion. I didn’t seek out any of these guys – they just appeared in my life when I opened my spirit and mind to any possibility that might lead me from hard labor to something more creative. By now, I cared as much about the car builder/owners as I did for the cars themselves. I found my niche and dove into it, writing stories about my friends, their friends, heroes, total strangers, and some total strangeoids, all due to what you might call happenstance. In the process, most of the heroes and strangers became my friends. Amazing, but so simply natural, if done with pure motives (I can also tell you some horror stories about the result of impure motives and lessons learned).

Today, I believe we all cross paths for a reason – to help each other move forward in some way. And I no longer believe that getting ink is the highest aspiration of hot rod culture. I now embrace the totally biased belief that this distinction belongs to the story teller. To be trusted with telling someone else’s story is the greatest honor and responsibility that’s ever been bestowed upon me. I take it seriously and am humbled by it. I don’t tell most of my subjects that I’m a high school dropout with zero journalism skills, so please keep that on the downlow - some of these people are high rollers who could get stinky with my publishers and snuff out my career. Personally, I still find celebrities fascinating, but it’s the stories of “little guys” working in obscurity that stick to my ribs now. Nothing else brings such a smile. Obviously, I still have a long way to go. But I’m enjoying the drive. Thanks for riding shotgun with me.


HEROIC HOT ROD INK THROUGH THE AGES

Before the discovery of squids and ink, homebrewed paint (often made from knuckle blood) on cave walls told the tale. Thankfully, this hot rod pioneer was originally immortalized that way. He went on to soak up major newsprint ink in the 50’s and 60’s. I’m sure he’s been inducted into a Hall of Fame somewhere by now.

From artist’s renderings to photographs, imagery gives the story depth, impact, and credibility.

Competition improves the breed. Just as true in publishing as on the street. Honk magazine scooped all the other rags with a dog that could yo-yo while banging gears through L.A. traffic. Impressive, but illegal. This controversial image sent mixed messages to dogs across America, but sold a lot of issues.

If your magazine is popular enough, hucksters will give you money to capitalize on the situation. For a while, the magazines made this a lot of fun (remember the cam wars?).

Innovation drives legacies forward – again, on the track and the printed page. Color! How do they do that?

It’s so heartwarming to see the old traditions being respected and carried on today. Retro rodders rule! This image was preserved in digital ink – found on the internet. Funny how everything eventually comes full circle.

Textbook example of my core demographic: Fans so hardcore, they’ll risk life and limb to watch a race. My job is to show this guy an easier way to enjoy the show, while educating, entertaining and hopefully inspiring him.

Jangleguy and Dr. Lockjaw Get Old

The Good Doctor (AKA Jamie Ford) and myself (secret code name: Jangleguy) aren’t getting any younger. Nobody told us, so we were the last to know. But this weekend at the drags, we finally caught on. Although our friendship was born of a shared reverence for grassroots drag racing (see Doc’s ‘Tetanus II’ in the Ballad of Dr. Lockjaw post, and my ‘Son of Godzilla’ in various posts), our racers have been parked for the last two years, due to time and budget realities. So we’ve been keeping sane by amusing ourselves with our daily drivers.

Technically, Doc’s driver is strictly a summer car. And in one of life’s most cruel but poetic ironies, the master metal smith now finds himself piloting a fiberglass car. Doc’s dream car had long been a Deuce coupe and he began collecting pieces for the build about 15 years ago. It finally hit the road last fall with an affordable plastic 3-window wrapper over a period drivetrain and chassis. Mine is a dedicated daily beater, neither cool nor fast. That story is told in the Bi-Polar Bear post.

Curmudgeons that we are, we chose to boycott this weekend’s Medford Cruise on general principal (as usual), but decided to take our drivers to the Medford Cruise Stoplight Drags, just to see what they’d do. This was the first time either of us had run non-race type cars at the track and what a revelation it was! We both really enjoyed breezing through tech and lounging in the staging lanes (neither of us so much as checked tire pressure). We arrived early to score shady spots in the staging lanes and rolled our windows down to watch our buddies try to fend off heat stroke while strapped into cramped aluminum cockpits in pressure-cooker conditions. They were already exhausted from nerve wracking tows of various distances, then stressing over last minute tweaks before class qualifying began.

First up: Doctor Lockjaw’s Coupe. Doc drove 30 miles into town to race. It was hot (92 degrees), but he cranked the windshield out and caught some breeze. At the track, he uncapped his homebrewed headers and deemed the car fit for battle. The obvious focal point is the Cragar 4-71 setup on the 383 inch Chevy. It’s backed by a Muncie 4-speed and 9” Ford rear (I believe the gears are 3.55s). He vowed to make a tentative first pass, but couldn’t help himself. That’s when he discovered the shift linkage wasn’t adjusted precisely enough for bang shifting. Instead of crawling under the car in the gravel pits and adjusting the linkage, he chose to live with it. The Hurst slicks were no match for the slime carried onto the track by the street tires on the Cruise participant’s cars, so prodigious wheel spin must be factored into Doc’s best run (out of two), a 12.99 at 108 MPH. That’s a conservative-guesstimate 12.30, with traction.

The Medford Cruise Drags are limited to pre-’73 cars, so I waited until the next night to run my late model car at the Run Whatcha Brung Drags, which are open to anyone. More irony: Mister Jangleguy (known for my sub-90 inch wheelbase hot rods) is now down to one vehicle, bigger than all my previous rides put together: A colossal ’80 Malibu station wagon. My 91 degree commute was cooler and shorter than Doc’s (five miles), but like him, I rolled in, got in line and ran. I didn’t even bother to uncap the headers, as I was after baseline numbers before making some future changes to the car. I’m building a nice 9” rear, and will soon be swapping in a slippery converter, changing to a slightly more aggressive cam and cylinder heads – all changes that should wake the car up, while keeping around-town reliability and drivability intact (see the Bi-Polar Bear post for current snoozy specs). Frankly, I was worried. Every part on this car is beyond tired and I was really sweating the whiny TH-350 trans and spindly 7 ½” 10-bolt rear, as this is currently my only car and any breakage would be devastating to my moth-eaten wallet and holy shoes. Of course, once I staged, I instantly forgot all of that – it was party time. I made three back-to-back runs to get a baseline average from, hitting best numbers of 15.43 and 88.39, both on my first pass. By the time I staged for the second run, the track was slimed. The third pass was a waste of time. The average numbers were 15.57 (ET) and 87.85 (MPH). I’m confident that my planned changes will improve those numbers dramatically, without affecting in-town daily driver status a bit. And hey, if I have to drive this turd around every day, I might as well enjoy the ride, right? So I’m going ahead with the updates.

  I handed my camera off to famed drag photog Dennis Vollmer, who snapped these entries for my scrapbook. Thanks Dennis!

Yeah, we’re aging. But that doesn’t mean we’re maturing. We still watched the fast cars with the same envy as when we were twelve. I miss mine dearly and hope to be back in the mix someday soon. Until then, I’m having fun going slow for peanuts. The Doctor recommends it, too.

Your reward for enduring us doddering old fools is a sampling of street cars from the Medford Cruise Stoplight Drags at Champion Raceway. Is your car in this bunch? If so, thanks for bringing it out and making our day!

Look again. This Mopar coupe began as a 4-door sedan.

    This guy was having a blast torturing his crossram smallblock Model A all day.

Every time he banged a gear, he'd turn the wheel a bit without realizing it. The odds finally caught up with him.

  Luckily, the guy was fine and the damage is fixable. The Father's Day Curse: Every year I've attended this event, a street car has crashed. Weird. We hope to see this one back soon...

 After lurking in the staging lanes all day, this beautiful S-W-C tribute car finally got as far as the water box, where he had a great view of the Model A crash. He slinked away immediately afterward and never made a pass. His loss and ours. Shame.