Incoherentcy Alert! Training in Session...

Traditionally, Tuesday is blog day at SGE. But for the last couple of weeks, I've been roadbound and putting in 16 - 18 hour days in the office, chasing the deadline for the latest CarTech book, sketching up the next one, and cramming in features for Hot Rod Deluxe in my 'spare time'. I'm not complaining. That's just how it is sometimes.

During this latest thrash, I've twice sat down to update the blog and twice had nothing to offer. Drained. I'd love to write about what I've been writing about, but that's classified material until it's published.

What I can tell you is that I'll be covering the Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekender for Hot Rod Deluxe, April 5 - 8. If you're in the neighborhood, look for the acid casualty wearing the filthy HRD T-shirt and say HI. I'm bringing a few Rat Rods books with me, in case you need one. CarTech is trying to line me up with a vendor booth, so I might even sell some, all legit-like. Will also trade for food, gasoline, or parts. If you're not familiar with the Viva Las Vegas event, Google it and you'll get the picture faster and clearer than I can explain it here. I'm looking forward to the challenge of covering the wide-ranging happenings (on foot) for four days and four really long nights. Luckily, I've been in training for this for over two weeks now. I'm using the trip as a vacation. But you know I'll be sniffing out the real story in spooky alleys, littered motel parking lots, and even stranger motel rooms - and will reveal the beautiful ugly truth to you right here, if I survive. Promise.

Hopefully, you'll have something insightful and inspiring to read on here in the next few days. I'm bound to come up with something blogworthy soon, right? Until then, here's some out takes from the Rat Rods book to pass the time. You deserve better. Unfortunately, the tank is on 'E' tonight.

As always, there were plenty of interesting cars that didn't make it to print for various reasons. Here's some random thumbnails I received that didn't work out...

I wanted some import and/or late model examples, to illustrate the 'use whatcha got' ethos to full effect. Wish these would've added up to something...

Okay, actual out takes from the book...

Hiding under a bridge in Coos Bay with Matt Springsteen's Jeep, waiting for the cops to leave.
                                                                   (Scotty Gosson photo)

Busting into a mill early on a Sunday morning for a photo op with Matt and his dad's daily driver Chevy pickup. (Scotty Gosson photo)

Earning my photojournalist merit badge, upsidedown under the dash of Jerry Fleck's '25 Dodge touring, at speed. (Scotty Gosson photo)

 Laurey (and Norton) Dixon takes me for a sideways ride down the main drag of Gold Hill, Oregon in their Studebaker roadster pickup. I'm on my knees in the bed. Wish I could've caught some tire smoke in this shot. (Scotty Gosson photo)

The closest I've ever come to being killed on the job. A millisecond after clicking this, the log truck took the bridge at full bull. I was a good 6" off the road, but he charged me anyway.

 I shot his ass, then peed in the bushes. (Scotty Gosson photos)

Chris Darland, breaking several laws at once in his '32 Chevy roadster, on the road in front of his house. He just barely nicked that fence post, but it was a goner. (Scotty Gosson photo)

Patricio Germano's shoebox, napping at San Remo Kustoms and Service in San Andres, Argentina. One of several unusual photographs found in my luggage after returning home with amnesia.
(Japo Santos photo)

             Patricio (AKA Path13) feeding his soul after hours at an undisclosed location in South America.
                                               (Photo courtesy of Patricio Germano, I think)

  Secret spy photo of Robert Killian's A-bone under construction at South East Hot Rods - Ballground, Georgia. (Steve Tucker photo)

  Sergey Sadovnik's severely cut down Red Army transporter in mid-build at the bus service shop where he works in Odessa, Ukraine. (Photo courtesy of Segey Sadovnik)

Collin Surbert's '36 3-window, warming up for its maiden voyage: Washougal,Washington to Viva Las Vegas. Made it there and back, drama-free. (Photo courtesy of Collin Surbert)

                                          Vegas-bound Collin, somewhere in the western U.S.
                                                     (Photo courtesy of Collin Surbert)

  This has to stop somewhere, so here's Kristin Martin, installing new brake lines on her '55 Stude. Just got word that after decades of nun-like existence, Kristen finally met a guy worthy of sharing herself and the Studebaker with. Congrats on the engagement, you crazy lids! We'll see the three of you out there on the road to somewhere... (Kristin Martin photo)

High Performance Interactive Executive Level Spam

                               


The love affair with my subject matter (and the creative process itself) is no secret. It's less ego stroke and banknote than an unconditional lust for all things hot rod. A compulsive adrenaline fueled obsession that I shine up and call "passion". That's what drives me to cover the sordid events of my noisy world in dime store ink. I enjoy playing the messenger role and am slowly becoming more comfy with it. But converting gathered data into digestible infotainment for the masses is only the first step of an involved process. Somebody has to deliver the news. Those paperboys are the publishers. By some cosmic gaffe, I now have two world class powerhouse word mongers pushing my scribblings into every crook and nanny on earth. These patrons (CarTech Inc. and SourceInterlink Media) have supported my efforts with their herculean marketing, distribution and promotional machines, despite my constant railing against the evil corporate empire. And thank God, because, like many creative types, I have zero business sense and a deep rooted fear of blowing my Karma by blowing my own horn.

The SourceInterlink magazines I write for are so entrenched in the hot rod psyche that they pretty much sell themselves, but motivating magazine consumers to step up for a book is more of a challenge. That's where the Cartech Department of Marketing, Promotion and Dirty Trickery comes in. Reportedly on par with the Pentagon in terms of manpower, brainpower, and exceeding government levels of horsepower, the CT MP&DT staff moves mountains while keeping a subterranean profile. I recently received classified documents from an anonymous CT MP&DT mole (reportedly working from G. Gordon Liddy's old office) detailing how you - yes, YOU - can help the company unload the glut of Scotty Gosson books they're stuck with. [Note to self: Replace previous sentence with "can help the company enlighten the world by eliminating smut"]

It turns out that both Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com provide for reader reviews of the books on their websites. According to my sources, positive reader reviews are the number one selling point of these online products. So if you've read my books (or just enjoy a "creative writing exercise"), please jot down a book review on these sites. It's quick, easy and fun! This simple act will transform you from a humdrum nobody into a snooty literature reviewer overnight, and both Cartech and I will really appreciate it. If you don't fancy yourself the creative writer type, here's a basic template to work from:

Since reading Gosson's masterpiece, my outlook on hotrodding and, in fact, life itself, has changed dramatically for the better. I now enjoy a major increase in fuel mileage, whiter teeth, and my sex life has entered an intense new dimension I never imagined possible. I recently experienced a major spiritual awakening and got a raise at work, as well. Coincidence? You might say so, if you haven't read the works of Scotty Gosson. But Scotty has taught me that "coincidence" and "luck" can now be stricken from my vocabulary and replaced with "what is meant to be". For that alone, I highly recommend this book - the last one you'll ever need. At least until his next one comes out.

To reward you for your hard work, I recommend a relaxing read through CarTech's website (www.cartechbooks.com), followed by some sparkling conversation on their Facebook page (www.facebook.CarTechBooks), where famous authors sometimes drop in to mix it up with readers. If that still isn't enough entertainment for you, get a load of this: Cartech recently debuted their shiny new blog (www.cartechbooks.com/blog), featuring reader's rides, blog posts from actual authors, and exclusive excerpts from insightful books, written by consummate professionals, like me.

                                           
                                                           Thanks kids! I owe you one.

Banned! Clint Haskin's '63 Tempest

Lounging in the Famoso Raceway pits in A/FX guise, the little Chief strikes a warrior pose. “Grrr”, indeed.

At the tail end of the final day of the 2011 California Hot Rod Reunion, one last stroll through the pits seemed an appropriate way to cap off an incredible week. Out at the fringes of Famoso Raceway's property line, I happened upon a car I'd been glimpsing all weekend. This one was personal. From birth, I've had it bad for a '63 Tempest. Ask anybody. It's a thing with me. I tried to walk past this Tempest that had been teasing me for days. I was almost past the pit when I turned for one last glance and I swear it winked at me.

That's when the owner, his wife and dog came out of the trailer. We were fast friends - instantly connected. As we talked, I couldn't look away from the car. I was falling again. I offered to shoot some photos for a possible feature story. They were all too accommodating. After the shoot, they explained that they wanted to weigh the car before loading it into the trailer - and would I care to drive it to the scales? It didn't take me all day to accept the offer.

The next day, I spent 12 hours driving home with the Tempest swirling in my head. And just a few miles from home was an old car collection where I'd seen a '63 Tempest - about 20 years ago. I'd driven past the location dozens of times over the years, dismissing it, along with the car I knew would surely be a ghost by now. But on this day, I pulled in to find the Tempest had been waiting for me exactly where I'd last seen it. Amazing, yet somehow not surprising. The owner was open to negotiation and we did just that over the following days, while I wrote up a feature on the race car.

Somewhere in the midst of these events, I'd talked myself into believing that the race car feature story would pay for my dream Tempest. That didn't happen. I pitched the story to every magazine that might possibly have an interest and even some Hail Mary long shots, just to say I tried. No dice. Why? I don't know and it's not my business. My job is to tell the story, send it out into the world and write the next one. True, the photos were hastily shot in the cluttered Bakersfield pits. Not good. But I did my best. All I know for sure is, more will be revealed when I'm ready to see it. Meanwhile, I've been getting a lot more stories published than rejected. Why? Again, not my business. I've been blowing the paychecks on gas, food and shelter. I'll get a Tempest if and when it's mean to be. So yeah, this one's personal. Another lesson taught. Learned? Time will tell.

                                         SECOND HAND SMOKE     

                                                  Words and photos by Scotty Gosson

Overhead view highlights crisp lines by Pontiac’s design team. Many argue this to be the prototypical muscle car layout, with flared (“Coke bottle”) quarter panels and relatively short deck and top, enhancing the bicep vibe on a shorter-than-most wheelbase. Side gills and split grille earn bonus points. Hood scoop is one of a Mopar pair.

Every locale has its lunatic fringe element and in northern New Mexico, these are the guys to be wary of. The Haskin name is synonymous with hardcore Pontiac performance throughout the Southwest. Family patriarch Charlie Haskin has been waving his magic wrench over Tin Indians for fifty years and passed the brand loyalty on to sons Clint and Randy. The Haskin brothers were diehard Pontiac street racers: “We were always getting into trouble with street racing. Once, my brother and I had to go to court on the same day. Needless to say, our mom was not happy. That’s when our dad took us to the drag strip and showed us ‘how it’s really done’ – legally and safely.” Today, Haskin Race Engines are known for brutal and reliable Poncho power on southwest drag strips, dirt tracks, and yeah, some city streets, too.


Charlie’s dream car had long been the 421 Super Duty Tempest, but supply and demand dictated he build his own. “Twenty plus years ago”, Clint and Randy snagged a ’63 Tempest body at the local wrecking yard and the build was on. Second Hand Smoke began life as a feeble 326/automatic commuter. Charlie ripped out the wheezy 326 and replaced it with a rowdy Haskin 428 inch warrior. A 3.89 cogged 9 inch Ford rearend with homebrewed ladder bars replaced the spindly transaxle. That’s it. This car was built pretty similar to the factory Super Dutys, with no frame - not even subframe connectors – just a massive power transplant and a homebuilt rollbar attempting to hold the car together. The visual hit is via Cragar Super Trick wheels shod with plenty of Mickey Thompson rubber, some homebrewed bodywork and paint, and Jerry Montoya graphics with a respectful nod to tribal elder Jess Tyree’s iconic Tempest. The finished product kept Charlie grinning for several years.

Then the Haskins happened upon a Mickey Thompson stroker crank (4 ½ inches worth, garnering 495 cubic inches) at a swap meet. The resultant long legged Chief was initially installed in Clint’s 8-second ’69 Judge, but when he built an even hairier mill, the stroker ended up in Charlie’s old Tempest.

This all took place a couple years ago and the Haskins have been savoring the fruits ever since. Clint does the driving these days, while Charlie is only occasionally in on the action. Clint’s take: “It’s like he lives vicariously through me. He’s older now and doesn’t want to race like he used to, so I take the car out and continue making passes in it, for him.” What a thoughtful son! Damn lucky, too.

The Second Hand Smoke car may use archaic tech, but it’s working for the Haskins: “We’ve ran in the nines with it, but we keep it in the tens to avoid certifying the ‘cage, licensing, and all that jazz. That’s why we stick with the 3.89 gear.” That thinking could change when the Haskins install their “more period correct” Hilborn injector, adapted from an Oldsmobile - a move that will surprise no one in Aztec, New Mexico.

Resembling a Catalina left in the sun too long, the Le Mans-optioned Tempest’s 112 inch wheelbase only has to support 2,865 pounds in stock trim. Though stripped down, Haskin’s all steel version scales at 2,840 pounds with conventional drivetrain layout, rollcage, and original glass.

 Pontiac builds excitement and Haskin Race Engines builds on that with adrenaline valve popping torque, driving the point home. Jerry Montoya brushwork is dead nuts on the money.

Based on ’67 400” block, HRE employed rare Mickey Thompson forged crank with 4.5” throw. After .060” overbore, the result is 495 cubes. Ross flat top pistons on Bill Miller aluminum rods provide 12.5:1 compression with Haskin-ported Edelbrock heads, flowing 330 CFM. Surly disposition is defined by Comp solid roller, specing in at 276 degrees of duration at .050” lift. Total lift is .640”. 1050 Dominator rides Edelbrock Victor intake. Beefed TH-400 with TCI converter sends grunt to 3.89 geared 9” rear. Electric water pump drive is most exotic feature.

Gennie Tempest ambiance is interrupted by 8-point Haskin ‘cage, ‘glass seat and harness, B&M shifter, Autometer tach, some vintage S-W gauges, and trans brake switch on period aftermarket ‘wheel. Casual chic carpet seems organic to this interior design.

The biggest news under here is the Haskin ladder bars nailed to 9” Ford housing. All else is from Pontiac Motor Division.

ANATOMY OF A SECOND HAND SMOKE RUN:

Randy Haskin and assistant guard car while prima donna driver primps in private dressing room (port-a-potty). Down time in staging lanes is spent sneering at opponent Ken Godsey.

Idling up to the line, the quarter panels wear their M/T freckles proudly. Hey Clint, don’t forget to roll that window up!

Second Hand Smoke blows off the line with the left front hiked up a few inches, then settles down for the duration.

At the 330 foot mark. Do Clint’s knuckles look white to you? The casual front end alignment has been corrected since this run (remember, it’s tired original stuff).

On the big end, the 495 is pulling hard at an easy 5500 RPM as the Tempest challenges Ken Godsey’s 427 Sox & Martin tribute Mercury for space on the finish line stripe. Godsey got there first and Haskin went home. Clint’s home track in Albuquerque commonly has a corrected altitude of 8,000 feet, where 10.60s are considered hot stuff. He went 9.95 in qualifying at Famoso. Oops!

Earlier in the weekend, Clint did a little grudge racing versus buddy Glenn Gibbons’ "Pouncin’ Poncho" ’64 Le Mans and held his own against the alky injected (Pontiac powered) favorite. This speaks well of Haskin power.

Catching its breath in the pits after an invigorating workout, the Native American compact sizzles and tinkles back to normal temp, as Clint readies the trailer. Rode hard and put up tired, Second Hand Smoke reminds us that real race cars ‘like it rough’. Pampered princesses need not apply. Hey! Check the Le Mans upgrade tail lights – what a luxury liner! 

Loose cannon magazine photographer at controls. A damn scary moment for pit-side pedestrians. But jeeze, this guy looks good in a Tempest! (Photo by Clint Haskin)

Secret spy photo of author's dream car at undisclosed location. Please don't buy it out from under me.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Congratulations Earthlings! You've survived yet another Valentine's Day. Besides celebrating the birth of beloved American entertainer Rudolph Valentino (and his ironic death on the same date at a gangster shootout in Chicago), it's also a day of investing in relationships via expensive gifts! As usual, you probably blew it with another predictable cliche presentation of flowers and candy, severely disappointing that special someone. And all because you apparently forgot the other reason this day is celebrated by lovers around the globe. That's right, it's also the official release date of RAT RODS from Cartech books! You're saved! Just hit your local bookstore or dial up Amazon.com for a copy of the book that's had the publishing world upsidedown with anticipation for over a year. Controversial subject matter! Shocking visuals! Amazing psychological insights! And enough automotive redecorating ideas to keep your sweetheart happily busy in the shop for months to come! You're welcome. But you owe me, big time.

Here's what to look for:

 


Sorry, it doesn't come in any other colors or sizes. Because it doesn't have to! RAT RODS is the perfect gift for any loved one (and/or yourself!). No matter their religious, political or sexual orientation, your honey will stay sweet on you forever, once they've feasted their eyes on this orgy of freeform creativity. Did you know "RAT RODS" is French for "I hold you in the highest regard and feel that you deserve only the very best"? You do now! And so will they, when they unwrap the hottest book of the season and realize that they'll now be well informed and prepared for tomorrow's water cooler discussion. You just can't put a price on that. So do yourself (and you-know-who) a favor: Give the gift of true love. RAT RODS (with a Foreword by distinguished author Tim Bernsau), and spend the rest of the year having a good laugh together when you remember how you ALMOST turned Valentine's Day into a massacre - before you redeemed yourself with the most thoughtful gift imaginable. Enjoy.

RAT RODS is made from genuine Persian stringtail free range organically fed rats, serenaded by Austrian sheep herders and bathed daily by hand picked Swedish virgins in Serbian tiger milk at sunset. 


Like all Cartech products, RAT RODS is guaranteed for life to the original purchaser. For details and merchandise return policy, write to: CarTech/SA Design, 39966 Grand Avenue, North Branch, Mn 55056 USA

Banned! Dr. Lockjaw's Tetanus T

For weeks, I could only catch a fleeting glimpse of it in traffic. While bombing around town, I kept seeing the '53 Studebaker going through intersections or crossing side streets, but just couldn't ever catch up to it. Until the night that we simultaneously rumbled into Smarty's Drive-in for dinner. Grey primer, slammed, American 5-spokes, and an early Hemi under the louvered hood. I talked with the owner and his wife for all of five minutes and the bond was forged. We 'got' each other. The next day I was at Jamie and Linda Ford's rural home. We made our way out to Jamie's shop and I realized this was one of those lifetime connections. Jamie was just starting his first race car project and I was instantly, hopelessly, drawn in. Jamie and Linda have been my best friends ever since. They've bailed me out of countless jams over the years. We've been through a lot together. There's some understatement for you.

Jamie and I spent some quality time on the drag race circuit together, racing each other and sometimes just running the Tetanus T. Rod & Custom Magazine's Tim Bernsau shot a feature on the Tetanus at Famoso Raceway one day and we connected, too. Tim became my writing mentor and that's how I stumbled into the magazine biz. A few years ago, I wrote this feature on Jamie and his car for another magazine. They passed on it, as did some other titles I showed it to. I had some great photos then, that have somehow vanished. But with these hasty snapshots, I'd like to finally expose the story to the light of day here. It's the least I can do for a family that has put up with me for so long.

                             The Ballad of Dr. Lockjaw and the Tetanus II                                                        Text and Photos by Scotty Gosson    

It's the song of idyllic summer afternoons. Distant dog barks echo on the breeze. Tiny birds chirp out jazz from a pepper tree. And eleven year old Jamie Ford jams along, while strolling through his Monrovia, California neighborhood. He spies an open garage door and wanders over for a peek inside. Jamie’s life will never be the same. Impressionable eyes adjust to the garage light and an early, short wheelbase, full bodied dragster is revealed. The owner/builder (“A local character") is taking care of some routine maintenance chores on the little digger and is relaxed enough to answer every question Jamie can conjure up. By dusk, young Jamie’s in the driver’s seat, getting a feel for life behind the wheel of the quickest race cars on planet Earth. It would prove to be young Mr. Ford’s first shaky step into the world of scorched rubber and oil. He was in for a long walk.

By the time Jamie entered high school, the Ford family garage had become a regular stop for hot rods on their way to all of the famous southern California cruising spots. Besides being a social arena, the little garage in the alley behind his house would lend major improvements to several hot roadsters and hardtops, as Jamie began honing his mechanical and fabrication skills.

After high school, Jamie enrolled at Pasadena City College, studying mechanical engineering. Even before the dragster encounter, he'd seen cars as art, so there was also a stint at Chouinard Art Institute to study design. It was all knowledge that would serve him well. The art world itself was very seductive and upon graduating from the Institute, Jamie found himself working at the Getty Art Museum, where he and wife Linda would literally live for the next twenty years. Cruising and drag racing were always a part of their lives during the Getty years, but upon retirement, they decided to move to southern Oregon’s Applegate area to live the hot rod life full time. And to start a family.

Jamie built a 32'X60' shop ("Custom Metal", where he performs - duh - custom metal work) and eventually even got around to building a house for Linda, son Story and daughter Shea. He stocked the shop with equipment, building what tools he couldn't afford to buy. Then Jamie Ford proceeded to build all the things that had been rattling around in his head over the last couple of decades. His clientele was mostly high end street rodders and Jamie delivered the goods. But there was a backlash developing in Jamie’s conciousness and he began to long for the brutal, purposeful drag cars that influenced him so much in his youth - cars with character to match the snappy nicknames and bigger-than-life personalities of their drivers.

In an Auto Trader magazine, Jamie spotted a crusty '26 T coupe "street racer special" for sale in the Roseburg area. The hook was the ten inches missing from the top. The idea was obviously to throw together the lightest body and chassis possible, in the shortest possible time, for the least possible bucks. The owner had succeeded on all counts and the little T did very well against the toughest street cars the Willamette Valley could throw at it. Yeah, it was rough, but ready. And when the owner fired it up, Jamie knew his fun meter was about to get pegged.

The mild (10:1) 350/350 combo in the car worked good enough with the 5.13 geared 9" rear (complete with welded spider gears) to run easy low 11s at the track. The hard part was getting through tech: When the tech inspectors first saw the rusty coupe, they laughed and declared Jamie liable for any Tetanus shots required. From that day on, it would be known as "The Tetanus T" and Jamie Ford took on the moniker of "Dr. Lockjaw". He had a blast racing the T that year, while simultaneously envisioning a more refined Tetanus for the future: A dedicated race car that embodied his own vision of an altered coupe. That winter, the shop door went down on a project that would take Jamie exactly where he'd been wanting to go: faster.

Jamie had been jonesing for a real race car since that childhood day in the dragster seat and made up for the lost time with a vengeance. The Tetanus II began as a pile of mild steel tubing - rectangular 2"X3" for the rails and round 1 5/8" for most everything else. He sourced the healthiest skin from a large stash of T body parts and pieced together a nice coupe, which he proceeded to chop nine inches (giving him another precious inch of headroom and visibility over the old Tetanus). Whatever panels he couldn't find in cherry steel, he fabbed from aluminum and filled with louvers. Jamie commissioned John Keller Machine in Medford to screw together a gnarly gas fueled roller cammed 12.5:1 383 small block, backed by the old TH350, now stuffed with a trans brake and a SpecRite (4,000 RPM stall) converter. A set of 4.86s were loaded into a new 9" and hey, welcome to the low tens!   

Jamie says the biggest improvement over the old car is probably the suspension. Much better geometry was incorporated into the same buggy spring style front suspension as before and Jamie whipped up a signature center pivot friction shock arrangement for it, as well. The old truck coil springs on the back of the original Tetanus held the car up off the ground, but that was about it. The adjustable ladder bar and coilover set-up on the new car is a major leap forward. In fact, the Tetanus II now leaps off the line like a frog leaving a hot rock, much to the delight of everyone lucky enough to see this hairy snotflinger in action. It might not know its way to the winners circle (yet), but the crowd of well-wishers in the pits and in the grandstands counts for something: In its first five years on the west coast nostalgia drag circuit, the T2 provided Jamie and his fans with plenty of entertainment (running a best of 10.06 at 135mph) and inspired countless other decrepit relics to join in the fun. It doesn't get much better than that. Or does it?

In 2005, the Tetanus II debuted an updated look, with a Hilborn injector matching the zoomies, tube for tube. There was a load of alky in the tank and early-lift nines on the scoreboard - a touchy issue, since the rollcage tubing isn't thick enough to pass tech for a nine second car. What now? Dr. Lockjaw and the Tetanus II will still run a few events, lifting extra early to make nice with track officials, while keeping the grin on the Good Doctors face. Meanwhile, back at the shop, a new chrome moly chassis is going together under a '29 tudor body ("Tetanus III"?), which will house the T2 drivetrain. And will the Tetanus II then be put out to pasture? Kind of. Plans are to drop in a milder small block and run the car strictly for yuks, maybe even putting it on the street, just like the original Tetanus T. And who knows - maybe someday it'll inspire some kid to get his hands dirty and - well, you know how this song goes...

Gone Fishin'

That's right. I'm fishin' for the nibbles of truth behind the facade at the Grand National Roadster Show in Los Angeles. Thousands of smiling faces, polishing beautiful rolling sculptures. Step right up and get your ticket. Stroll though the turnstiles and into a dreamscape of chrome and speed. Everyone there has something to sell. My job: Find out what they're really pushing. Agendas run rampant at these events and the stench of snake oil is stifling. This is my element.

I'll be down in the trenches of L.A. for a week, chase my deadline all the way home and hit the road again for another week undercover in Vancouver, Washington. Upon my triumphant return from that assignment, I'll post the results of the adventure here, then it's off to the March Meet, Viva Las Vegas, and some other gigs, so secret that I can't even tell myself about them.

In my absence, I encourage you to enjoy some posts you may have missed, in the SGE archives. Take your time. Savor it. Write a comment, if you're so inclined. But don't worry about me. I'm armed with the Carma of the righteous. I will return with the greasy, grimy truth on film. For your eyes only.

Until then, my friends. Until then...

　SGE 1st ANNIVERSARY ULTIMATE ADVENTURE GIVEAWAY CELEBRATION!!!


Based on general conjecture and wild guesses, this marks the first anniversary of the SGE blog. We’ve visited several exotic locales and met many colorful characters together. It’s been a fun run. Thank you all for nervously checking in each week to see how I’ve chosen to blow off steam (these reports are typically my passive-aggressive ‘acting out’ reactions to a week spent writing by the rule book). How to properly celebrate such a milestone? Ice cream social? Silent meditation? Trash the local drag strip with fire, broken parts, and beer bottles? I think not. We can do better.

Let's begin by formally acknowledging the Top 5 feature stories of 2011 (according to web traffic). Please hold your applause until the final Scotty Award has been presented:

#5: Banned! Steve Curry’s Mopars

#4: Cole Coonce Interview

#3: Chad Reynolds Interview

#2: America’s Coolest Station Wagons in 3-D

And the number one SGE feature story of 2011: Faith Granger Interview

Congratulations to our first five recipients! Your checks and trophies should be on your front porch with our camera crew right about now!


Enough chit chat. Let's get down to it. Have you been to the Goodwood Festival of Speed in England? Me neither. If you’re not familiar with this global celebration of everything fast, loud and on the razor’s edge, go to: www.goodwood.co.uk/festivalofspeed/welcome.aspx
I’ll wait here while you check it out...

  Hey Lord March! I stole your photos! Got your attention now?

Ah, welcome back. So, what do you think? Look like your cup of tea? Do you have your bail bondsman on speed dial? If so, here’s your shot at long distance high velocity glory:
Cars compete at Goodwood by invitation only. I hereby vow to begin campaigning event promoter Lord March immediately for an invite to run my old Morris hot rod at the hill climb (I think I can borrow it back from the new caretaker). I’m prepared to play the media card, if necessary. Once in the door, the sky’s the limit for offending stuffy old world money with stereotypical ugly American behavior. Place your bets now on how long it takes to get kicked out of this joint. But I’m not going down alone. I want to take YOU with me!

                               Shotgun rider wanted. Must have own life insurance.

Together, I believe we can scam our way to Goodwood. Some of you probably have connections with evil corporate empires that are desperate to polish their tarnished images with sponsorship of just such an adventure. I know some of these soul mongers, myself. It’s not like I’ve never whored myself out to vicious pimps before. Hell, I wrote the book on it. Well, most of a chapter, anyway:

 Coming soon from Gosson Bros. Racing Library. Copyright 2012

 And I shake hands with these devils every day, in exchange for a flimsy token paycheck. Proof:

                              Buy these books! It’s the only way to save America!

And I’m currently finishing up a book on overseas racers who come here to compete in hot rodding’s birthplace. So I feel that making the Goodwood pilgrimage is the least I can do in return. Like the immigrants before me, I’ll ship my steed over the ocean to compete with the best on their home turf (plus it will provide appropriate transport around the UK - just the ticket for speedy getaways).

It’s a long way to Goodwood. I prefer not to go it alone. I’d rather bring YOU along as the official shotgun rider on this adventure of a lifetime. How should I choose which lucky reader will join me in this insanity? Post your suggestion in the COMMENT box. As of today, I’m thinking the reader who comes up with the best plan to finance the trip is the one who’ll join me in learning to drive on the wrong side of the road. Meanwhile, I’ll be scheming, too. If inspiration hits and I figure it out on my own, I’ll probably just take my girlfriend with me and forget about you guys. Let that be your motivation. In 2013, we ride! Who’s with me? Let’s jangle!