HANGIN' AROUND A GHOST TOWN 7-11

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The Wendover Times ran this piece on a local tourist attraction, as the global migration to Speed Week transformed the remote casino town into a thriving metropolis for 72 hours. Then the rains washed away the racers and scenesters, leaving Wendover as isolated and ghostly as ever, amid the salty winds that sing through the power lines. 

August 3rd. Baked to crispy perfection and ready for grooming.

August 4th. The SCTA's travelling beauty parlor. These guys may put in more time prepping for these events than all racers combined.

We claim this land in the name of speed. Unless someone faster comes along, of course.

Revelers at The Bend In The Road, lined up on August 7th for opening day on the 9th.

 Morning light reveals the beautiful ugly reality of opening day. By Saturday afternoon, the event was officially cancelled. (Images courtesy of SCTA)

Besides the 500 MPH contenders, the little guys also arrived loaded for bear. Jim Lindsay's roadster still reeked of welding and paint fumes.

Lindsay and company make final preparations in traditional fashion, employing a casino parking spot for pit duty.

The race car was ultimately covered and forgotten, as Lindsay and fellow racers shifted into social mode. By all accounts, a great time was had by all. The whereabouts of brother Tom's Shetland pit bike are unknown, but Jim made do with this borrowed mount. Good to see that the Rolling Bones are still enjoying service from Dave Lyon's old '40 delivery (in background).

Jim Lindsay's take on the event that wasn't: "It was a nice visit, I'll say that." (Photos courtesy of Jim Lindsay)

It was the greatest event that ever never happened. Anticipation of this year's SCTA/BNI Speed Week had been building since the first timed runs across the salt in 1914. In one short century, Speed Week had become so much to so many, that the 2014 edition simply couldn't have delivered. There's no way it could have lived up to the hype emanating from media, racers and fans alike. So the Salt Gods delivered a reality spanking instead, lest we completely lose our perspectives. The 2015 event will no doubt be approached with less romance and more realistic (if any) expectations.

But there's no need to suffer through another year to experience epic achievements on the salt. Despite wasted vacation time and other jangled logistics, many of the hitters constituting this year's all-star lineup will be back for the World Finals event in late September or early October. Mike Cook's private Shootout is also on the calendar (check the SCTA Facebook page for updates). So 500 MPH remains this year's bullseye. I hope to witness those attempts in person, but my plans for covering Speed Week were dashed before I got out of the driveway, so I'm approaching these bonus events with caution. When my Speed Week odyssey scheme didn't pan out, I went down to the 7-11 and camped out at the magazine rack. It was a pleasant escape, until an event transpired that reminded me there is no escape.

Once I'd had my fill of atomic hot dogs, was up to my ankles in Powerball scratch-offs, and had dog-eared every automotive magazine on the rack, I returned to the SGE campus and locked myself in the bunker. I enjoyed several cat videos online before chancing onto a cosmic event on Facebook. First, I saw firsthand cellphone coverage of the storm that drowned Speed Week. The Tony Stewart Sprint Car incident was everywhere, but we're withholding comment until the dust settles a bit. Then, Jim Lindsay posted a photo of a wicked '34 Ford 5-window drag car that he'd lifted from Dick Page's site. Dale Seaholm replied with a mention that his personal coupe project had been inspired by the one that mutual pal Jim Lindsay had posted. And we all went down the rabbit hole together.

The photo Jim Lindsay posted (via magazine scribe Dick Page) that triggered a snowball effect. This image was apparently captured during the coupe's brief Rucker & Mackle tenure.  Not sure which lucky co-owner is posed with the car here. (Photo courtesy of Dick Page)

Dale Seaholm's 5-window, looking very right in advanced stage of the build. Seaholm is one of those Facebook Friends whom I've never met, yet feel a solid connection with. Now I know what that was all about. Dale said he based his chop on the Peckerhead club's 7-11 coupe, with their approval and assistance. I'm familiar with the Peckerheads' car, and in fact, have a very strong emotional attachment to it. (Photo courtesy of Dale Seaholm)

I posted to Lindsay's thread that the depicted coupe bore a strong resemblance to Phil Turgeson's 712 coupe (built in '59 with a full house flathead). Seaholm responded in agreement, and photo comparisons were made. Sure enough, we had a match. The distinctive downward sloped one-piece nose gave it away. Page's photo was taken a year after this shot of Turgeson being staged, perhaps at Pomona. I'd seen this image online before. Turgeson built the car at NHRA lynch-pin Jack Hart's Texaco station in Santa Ana. The heart/lightning bolt on the grille was the Hart's Automotive logo. (Photo courtesy of Dale Seaholm)

Then Seaholm surprised me with this photo, which I'd never before  seen. Perhaps an SGE reader with actual memory cells can identify this location. My guess would be Pappy Hart's Santa Ana strip. And I'd have to assume this is an earlier iteration of Turgeson's tenure with the car (before the 12-spokes and Halibrands). (Photo courtesy of Dale Seaholm)

Sports Illustrated ran this shot in a late-1961 issue. Kent Singleton had just taken ownership, and the decklid was lettered "Singleton-Carrillo-Nelson". Their "Headhunters" car club was later mentioned on the quarter panels. They swapped the flathead for a Chet Herbert blown alky smallblock Chevy. (Photo courtesy of Mike Dowell collection)

When the Headhunters used up the coupe and bid it adieu, it vanished and hasn't been seen since. Kent Singleton's younger brother Mike Dowell and his partner Curt Vaught decided to build a recreation in 1994, after an exhaustive search for the original (detailed in my Sept. 2005 R&C piece "Laughin' Bones"). The majority of the chassis work was performed at local legend Bill Comstock's shop. Chet Herbert and Zane Shubert donated parts to recreate their old 357" monster mouse. Dr. Lockjaw and other fabricators donated various chores. This is when I staggered into the story, blindly volunteering grunt labor and magazine ink. I caught the car at Mike Dowell's home garage during final mock-up. It remained in this iteration for a couple of years. (Scotty shots)

Curt Vaught was the designated driver, but when early guardrail-to-guardrail 146 MPH passes proved more dramatic than quick (low tens), Dowell plugged various stunt doubles into the seat, including yours truly, shown here just before charging into the field at the end of Woodburn Dragstrip with no steering. I plowed up some beans or something, but did no real damage, except to my ego (I lost to Dr. Lockjaw's Tetanus II on this run). (Unfortunately the photographer's name has been forgotten. My apologies!)

Eventually, the car got paint, and polish on the mags. It looked better, but never really ran to its potential. I shot this from the tower while announcing at Champion Raceway one evening. (Scotty shot)

The 7-11 was bought by the Peckerheads club in California. These guys really got it figured out! Wheelie bars are now mandatory. Low 9's are par. When Drew Hardin took the Hot Rod Deluxe Editor's chair, he dispatched Paul Sadler to shoot the refurbished coupe, and I was to revisit it in text. Alas, for reasons unclear, my Peckerhead connection pulled the plug on the project. And so continues the curious mystery of the 7-11. (Photo courtesy of Paul Sadler)

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When my Speed Week plans were cancelled, I accepted the invitation to join Saint Shellski in celebrating her dad's 86th birthday in San Francisco. It was an epic blowout, as always. But it left precious little time for this report. Now that it's done, I plan on taking a nap. Join us next week, when we return to squirrels, toolboxes, and the usual tomfoolery. Hopefully with fewer technical glitches than this spastic post. And maybe even with some actual news reports. Thanks for your understanding.

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GOING SORCHIKIAN

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You gotta be one seriously deranged throttle jockey to get yourself into this situation with a four banger under the hood. This truck just happens to sport one seriously deranged four banger. Lance Sorchik is definitely one of us.

It started with a letter from a crazed fan (me). The friendship that sprouted from that awkward beginning nearly thirty years ago has only flourished, and continues to bear mutual fruit. I could probably tell Lance's story with some accuracy, but there's no equal to hearing it from the horse's mouth. So in this SGE exclusive, Lance speaks directly to you (after donning his horse costume, of course). Gather at his feet, listen carefully, and be educated, entertained, and inspired.

"Once upon a time, on a farm in the Great White North(-ern New Jersey), there lived a clan known as The Sorchiks. With two parents, five children and a grandmother, they worked hard to make ends meet by raising their own cattle and pigs, harrowing the land, and nurturing what nature had to offer. Life was good, but always busy, on the farm."

"One day, middle child Lance walked into the garage and found his dad taking an old Farmall tractor apart - and I mean APART! It was split in half, nuts and bolts were everywhere, oil and grease were up to his elbows, and there was barely any room to walk around the garage. 'Dad', Lance asked, 'Why are you doing that?' His response was, 'Because it's the only way we can afford a tractor. I have to buy old junk and make it like new again.' As a ten year old, Lance had never heard of such a concept and still wasn't sure why his dad was going to all of this work. But he did notice one thing: His dad had a smile on his face and was genuinely enjoying the process. Lance just shook his head and went back into the house to draw more pictures."

"Over the ensuing months, Lance would peek into the garage and see the progress on the tractor. At first, it seemed like it was still going backward - with more parts missing and each big part being broken down into smaller bits. How in the world would dad remember how to put it all back together? Lance just walked away, puzzled."

"But one day, he noticed that the tractor was starting to go back together and actually looked like a tractor again. Cool! His dad was not home at the time, so he walked in and noticed how neat and clean everything was, and how his dad had organized all of the parts on the workbench to go back onto the tractor. The realization that you could drag home a pile of junk and actually rebuild it to like-new condition finally sank in (I truly believe that day changed my life)."

"Each week, Lance returned to the garage to check on his dad's progress. Then one day, his dad was getting ready to paint the tractor. 'Wow!', thought Lance, 'You can do that, too?!' Now understand, the Sorchiks didn't have any spray equipment. Nope, dad was going to brush paint it. Dad asked Lance if he wanted to help. Of course, the answer was 'YES!' Laying on that red paint and trying to keep all the brush strokes going in the same direction was harder than Lance thought. He didn't want to mess up his dad's work, and dad saw Lance's concern, so he reassured him that he couldn't hurt it, and said to do the best that he could. Lance was ecstatic, and could now say that he helped his dad build the tractor."

"The memory that really stuck in Lance's mind was when his dad rewired the tractor. He needed to run some wires, but wanted some protection for them. Having little extra cash, he took an old hoola hoop, cut it down, and  ran the wires through it. That blew Lance away. The fact that you could use parts and pieces from other things, showed him that creativity was okay! Lance loved the concept. And since he was already a creative type, the blend of mechanical and creativity just naturally morphed into playing with old cars and making them forms of art."

"To this day, I LOVE to play with old junk and make it look like new again. I do the best I can with what I have, and I can honestly say that I genuinely enjoy the creative process, and usually have a smile on my face while doing it. Heck, I'm even planning on brush painting my latest project! If there's a circle to life, I'd call this one a FULL circle."

ABOVE: A sample of Sorchik's Where I Draw The Line series, which ran in Rodders Digest magazine for a good twenty years. When the magazine folded, Sorchik continued his mechanical art experiments unsanctioned, blazing a trail for herds of copycats to follow. Sorchik acknowledges them thus:"Everyone is inspired by someone out there, just as I was. I'm the lucky one, to have so many people want to mimic my style. I must have done something right!" BELOW: What all the fuss is about. Note refinements in style and technique over time. Take notes. Bonus: Every vehicle depicted here belongs to a friend, with the emotional connection hardwired directly into each piece.

Bonus: Sorchik builds what he draws, lending a JB Weld-like credibility to his bond with viewers. The above '33 Willys is now a planter, but the following Sorchikmobiles are all still mobile as hell!

I'm honored to have been invited into a lot of cool garages over the years. When I spot one of the above posters from Sorchik's Jumpstart Graphics in someone's shop, I know I'm among kindred spirits. Is your garage flying these mono-colors? Or are you one of those anti-wallpaper safety nuts?

Sorchik enjoys a fan base unique to the field. His fervent followers have demanded personal appearances at events as disparate as the French Street Rod Nationals, a single-family gathering around a campfire in Hungary, and plenty in between. He's just that personable. Below is a Swedish fan's tribute, based on a photocopied commercial image and crafted from tin left over from his personal full scale '33 roadster project.

Once exposed to the true artful beauty of hot rodding, even the hardest ass in the county can soften up and realize a better quality of life. Good work, Lance! Making the world a better place, one burnout at a time. (Photos and images courtesy of Lance Sorchik)


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MICRO UPDATES

Jim Lindsay made good use of pal Aaron McClinton's shop and skills last week, slapping a coat of hot rod black on the T body intended to shake rattle and roll on the salt, come August 9th. 

Meanwhile, Sid Campbell was blessing the '46 Ford engine. A/GS Willys tamer Dave Owens (not shown) handled wiring, plumbing, final engine assembly, and general completion of the car. Tube and tin bender Marty Strode claims, "Dave did a masterful job, stepping in just two short weeks ago and saving the day for Jim."

And the blown fuel flathead was finally coaxed to life, late last week. That's Dennis Murray on the carb, with Larry Shane and Al Rossback supervising. Lindsay started packing for Speed Week immediately after these photographs were taken.

Bonneville's immense pit area (literally miles long) isn't exactly pedestrian friendly. One must be mobile, or suffer the wrath of the salt gods. Tom Strode's Shetland pit bike is now finished. Marty Strode is all grins after this in-shop test drive. But will the pristine paint and plating really be subjected to the corrosive elements???  (Photos courtesy of Marty Strode)

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Seen at last Sunday morning's Stray Cats club gathering, en route to Dr. Lockjaw's Custom Metal shop.

Vaughn Jones' '55 is a Custom Metal regular. It's in for some tweaking to assist with Vaughn's quest to limbo under the 11 second barrier. He's currently carding 12.06 times at 112 MPH, so the elevens are taunting him something awful. But low twelves don't suck too bad for a gasoline smallblock in a 3,500 pound street car. Alas, Jones' aero program recently took a hit when his son crashed his minibike into the right quarter panel.

Most of my week was spent chasing parts. When I finally got around to tearing down the Project SGE rearend on my custom jig, I got as far as axle nut removal and no further. The drums won't budge. Three thousand miles away on a parallel latitude, Motormouth Ray was simultaneously encountering the exact same dilemma. We're both scrambling to concoct hub pullers from found objects. Who will successfully de-brake first? Place your bets now. I did manage to find a right-side wishbone to replace the wrong-side one I had. We cut it to length, then had to move on. But the pieces are now in place to mock up the chassis (hopefully next week). I'm stoked. It's been a long time since this thing looked anything like a car. 

Initial mock-up. Just starting to take shape in my home/garage. 1996. The project went on hold until the spring of 2014, when Dr. Lockjaw came to the rescue. (Scotty shots)

As envisioned by Lance Sorchik in 1997 (Middle image)

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SQUIRREL AND TOOLBOX

Keeping our art show ambiance intact, we present the Art Center College of Design graduating class of 2014, entering a very competitive job market. Don't worry, little guys. You'll be fine if you stay true to yourselves and walk your own path. The suits, we're not so sure about.

Not as artsy as some, yet universal as any: Hardcore street/stripper Race Trevino built his first engine at age 14. His favorite aspect of the build was receiving the PAW sticker in a box of mail order parts, so he could slap it on his toolbox. It's the little things that make life such a big deal. (Photo courtesy of Race Trevino)


UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

A quick peek at some of the customer work that keeps the oil on Lance Sorchik's table. You know, for salads and stuff.

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