Banned! Steve Curry's Mopars

If Steve's name seems familiar, you've been tuned into the good stuff. He and old pal Bob Furry teamed up on a canary yellow straight axle '57 Chevy street/strip sedan that graced the August 2000 cover of Hot Rod magazine. Gray Baskerville was nearly killed getting that shot and the story behind it is a hilarious epic, still in heavy rotation at racetrack pits and burger joints around the globe.

Steve's been a mover and shaker on the local scene for many years and is still into it, up to his eyebrows. In the opening years of the New Millennium, I was doing a lot of musclecar stories for Car Craft and Steve's Mopar fleet seemed like a natural. When I first submitted this tale, Steve Magnante was saturating the (then) Primedia pages with Pentastar lore and CC passed. I shopped it around to all the other titles, who also waived it off, probably because of my amaturish photography (performed on a freezing day with numb fingers), but all insisted they'd get back to it. None of them ever did and it's been sitting in a cardboard box gathering dust, until today.

                              Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil

By Scotty Gosson

Photos by Scotty Gosson

                                                               

To the point. Surgically clean. Tastefully understated. Brutally honest. Viciously fast. The anti-bling. Why don't we see more of this? Here are three different approaches to building killer street/strip cars out of pedestrian sixties iron that the megabuck collectors passed on. There are no rules in this game, so why aren't more people playing? It's an inside deal - you either get it or you don't. Get this:

                                                              

'65 Coronet

Originally built over twenty years ago at "Moshers Musclecar Motors" in Monrovia, California, it's still holding up very well, thank you. These build ups are pretty much routine for Mopar guru Bobby Mosher: Blow car completely apart; strip everything to bare metal and rub on everything until it's perfect; stab in a relatively mild big block (440 with 426 wedge decals on the valve covers and a crossram intake for style points); cam with plenty of hair on it, and earthquake exhaust to add interest; prep a 727 automatic for battle and match it with an appropriate torque converter; make sure the 8 3/4 rear is bulletproof and loaded with a 4.10 gear; delete rear seat and replace factory bench with Dodge van buckets; garnish with period correct Sun tach; repaint body factory color.

Simple, huh? There are no trick parts, and no sleight of hand or anything cute about the build-up. The hard part is not getting sidetracked or carried away - a little restraint goes a long way here. The Coronet blows minds on the street, with audio to match the visuals. The combination is a traffic jammer ("Grab your ankles, there's a Super Stocker in the other lane!"). And it runs easy low 13s in full street trim, with cat pee in the tank. Best of all worlds...

                                                                   

                                                                

                                                                          

'68 Valiant

A no brainer. The Valiant spent it's childhood as a Pacific Bell fleet vehicle. These cars came with 6 cylinder/automatic combos (with the light torsion bars.) More light comes from nifty fleet options like heater, carpet and undercoating deletes. A 380 hp 360 crate motor with a 100hp shot of nitrous and an 833 4-speed replaced the anemic factory drivetrain, and viola! Instant funmobile. Shumacker motor mounts made the swap a sleepwalk. The combo was refined with a steering column and clutch pedal assembly from another A body, 3.91 gears and a Sure Grip in an 8 3/4 housing, and a Mopar rear spring relocating kit (3" inboard) to make way for the 275 series BFGoodrich tires and steelies (widened to 8" in back). They look great under there, enhancing the vibe without being distracting. Traction is still iffy though. It can pretty much disappear in traffic (if you're deaf), and goes 12.20s at the track. It's dipped into the ultra-low 11s on the juice. Fun and easy...

This conversion was performed by Gary Streuter and Bob Schiller of Irvine, California, back in 1997. Nothing has been changed since then, except the oil and a few sets of rear tires...

                                                                 

                                                                

                                                                

 '68 Dart GTS

The Dart came with a more common form of weight reduction: genuine midwest rust. Therefore, the price was right, and since the numbers all match on this one, out came the sawzall, and in went the N.O.S. floors, rockers and quarter panels. The chassis remains stock, save for subframe connectors and a 3.91 posi pumpkin. The wick was turned up somewhat on the original 383 with the obvious bolt-ons, but nothing that would take it past the point of no return, if a resto were ever desired. Exhaust cutouts are the most exotic pieces on the car. The original interior was deemed adequate, and left as is. Again, the wheel and tire combo defines the cars personality, with the rear steelies and front American Torque Thrusts telling you everything you need to know about this car at a glance.

The plan from the beginning was to make it a daily driver, and so it is. We've spotted it at the grocery store, the parts houses, and every joint in town that serves lunch. It's a regular at cruise nights, and the drag strip, where it runs very consistant 13.20s (and has flirted with 12s on ocassion). A reality ride with true balance. Proof? The owner is always smiling...

                                                          

                                                                

                                                              

                                                            

The Owner

With one foot planted in the Super Stock wars, and tongue in cheek, Steve Currie has his own private Mopar battallion to rule the streets. Only one of his street warriors came from the factory with its current equipment, and Steve rolls his eyes at the purists who think that it matters. He has a few "chalkmark correct" cars that live pampered lives, but these three get driven. With a wink and a grin.

Collections like this don't happen overnight - there's years of horse trading behind the scenes, and in fact, Steve keeps so busy juggling factory muscle that he doesn't have much time anymore to build his own stuff. The three cars shown here were originally built by three different shops, found their way into Steves hands, and are now tweaked and maintained by the staff at Heritage Motors (Steves company) in Medford, Oregon. We know, "sounds tough". Get over it. The point is, these cars represent the very spirit of "Affordable Street Performance". All three embody common sense ideas, executed with taste and attention to detail. We can all learn from these cars. Our junk should look and run so nice...

The Details
Car: '65 Dodge Coronet
Owner: Steve Curry
Engine: Dodge 440 production block, stock bore and stroke; Keith Black hypereutectic pistons, stock polished rods w/ ARP bolts; polished crank w/ oil holes chamfered, by Dales Place in Baldwin Park, California
Heads: Stock cast iron, mild porting, multi-angle valve job
Induction: Factory cast aluminum cross ram intake w/ (2) Weber (repro AFB) 650 cfm 4-barrel carbs
Exhaust: Doug Thorley headers w/ 2" primaries, 3 1/2" collectors, 3" exhaust w/ mystery mufflers
Camshaft: Mopar Performance hydraulic flat tappet "509 purple shaft" w/ 248 duration @ .050", .509" lift, 114 centerline
Transmission: Dodge 727 automatic 3-speed w/ 10" 2700 rpm stall A&W converter, stock column shifter
Rearend: Mopar 8 3/4 housing, SureGrip 3rd member w/ 4.10 gears, stock axles
Front suspension: Stock w/ 90/10 drag shocks
Rear suspension: Stock w/ Chrysler Super Stock leaf springs, 50/50 drag shocks
Brakes: Stock factory drum, front and rear
Wheels and tires: Stock steel narrowed to 15X4, w/ 205/75-15 radials, front; stock steel widened to 15X8, w/ 275/60-15Firestone Firehawk radials, rear
Assembly: Bobby Mosher at Mosher Musclecar Motors
Paint: Factory red re-spray
Upholstery: Repro vinyl by Quality Upholstery in Irwindale, California

Performance: 13.32@103.20

Car: '68 Dodge Valiant
Owner: Steve Curry
Engine: Mopar Performance 360/380hp crate motor; cast iron block, 380hp@5300 rpm, 410ft lbs@4400 rpm (without nitrous)
Heads: Stock cast iron w/ 1.925" int./1.625" ex.
Induction: Mopar Performance M1 manifold w/ Holley 750 cfm 4-barrel, NOS 100hp nitrous plate system
Exhaust: Hooker Super Competition headers (1 5/8" primary pipes, 3" collectors) w/ 3" exhaust and X pipe, Magnaflow mufflers
Camshaft: Mopar Performance hydraulic roller, .501"/.513" lift, 288/292 advertised duration
Transmission: Chrysler A-833 4-speed w/ Hurst shifter
Rearend: Mopar 8 3/4 w/ SureGrip 3.91 gears, stock axles
Front suspension: Stock
Rear suspension: Stock
Brakes: Stock drum, front and rear
Wheels and tires: Stock steel, narrowed to 15X4 1/2" w/ 205/70 - 15 BFGoodrich radial TAs, front; Stock steel, widened to 15X8 w/ BFG 275/60 - 15 BFGoodrich radial TAs , rear
Assembly: Gary Streuter and Bob Schiller
Paint: PPG copy of original "X code" fleet color
Upholstery: Stock reproduction from Legendary, installed by Mission Viejo Interiors, rubber floor mats

Performance: 12.20@103 on motor, 11.24@120 w/ nitrous

Car: '68 Dodge Dart GSX
Owner: Steve Curry
Engine: Dodge 383, bored .030", Keith Black hypereutectic 9-1 pistons, stock rods and crank
Heads: Cast iron 906 castings, mild portwork, multi angle valve job
Induction: Edelbrock Torker manifold, Holley 750 cfm 4-barrel
Exhaust: TTI 1 3/4" headers, TTI 2 1/2" exhaust w/ crossover, Flowmaster Delta series mufflers
Camshaft: Mopar Performance hydraulic flat tappet, .484" lift, 241 duration@.050", 108 centerline
Transmission: A-833 four speed w/ factory Hurst shifter (modified w/ fabbed shift plate, etc)
Rearend: 8 3/4 Mopar w/ SureGrip, 3.91 gears, stock axles
Front suspension: Stock
Rear suspension: Stock, w/ pinion snubber
Brakes: Stock drum, front and rear
Wheels and tires: American Torque Thrust, 14X6 w/ 175/70-14 radials, front; Stock steel 14X7 w/ 26X9.50-14 Hoosier Quicktime slicks, rear
Assembly: Heritage Motors
Paint: Factory red respray
Upholstery: Original vinyl

Performance: 13.09@105.67

Source: Mosher Musclecar Motors, Monrovia, California 626-303-2427
Dales Place, Baldwin Park, California 626-851-1353
Gary Streuter and Bob Schilling, Irvine, California
Heritage Motors, Medford, Oregon 541-772-5222

Banned! The Lindsay Bros. Roadsters

Here's a piece from about six years ago, concerning a couple of characters in my little racer's peer group. Their situation is unique and so are their cars - cleanly executed examples of period lowbuck funnery. I try to write stories that I'd be excited to discover when turning the page and that may be my downfall - my tastes are just so out of touch with today's marketplace that I'm now amassing a collection of unsold tales.

Lesson to aspiring writers: Despite these rejections, I'm still making a go of it, plus I sleep well, knowing I did my best, on a topic I'm passionate about. Luckily for me, I don't buy into success/failure, only 'what is', at the moment. In my case, that means living my dream of writing about the life I love.

The numbers in this story are outdated and I've lost touch with the Lindsays over the last few months (we're all busy). But after reading their story, you might agree that the numbers are the least important aspect here...

IN STEREO
Prioroity Dynamics explained by the Lindsay Bros.
By Scotty Gosson

Photography by Scotty Gosson

Bob and Jim Lindsay have transcended brotherhood. The Lindsays are in synch. In stereo. And they’re not alone. The brothers from rural Shedd, Oregon are part of an amazing community of ex-drag racers who retired to the quiet fields of Oregon’s Willamette Valley to let the ringing in their ears slowly dissipate while getting back some perspective on the big picture. Getting your hands into the soil can really help one refocus on priorities. And sure enough, all of the regulars at the tiny Shedd Cafe have come to the same conclusion about drag racing: it can chew you up and spit you out without giving a damn about you or anyone else the addiction affects. Brutal stuff.

Most customers at the Shedd Cafe (the social vortex of the local population) pull up to the building in street cars they built during long rainy spells - mostly traditional pre-'48 hot rods, with a few tasty 50's cars parked around the perimeter of the lot. But the Lindsays are part of a small group who also stepped carefully back onto the 1320 with priorities intact, after a long healing period. This time around, the bottom line is amusing themselves with creating and racing their vision of how it should be. According to Jim and Bob, it should be fun, clean, fun, fast, fun, low buck, fun, unique, fun, safe, fun, period correct as possible, and uh, fun...And consequently, the Lindsay Bros always have great stories to tell at the Cafe on Monday morning - stories told with a wink and a grin and that understated farmers chuckle. True stories. In stereo...

                                    

                                         Jim Lindsay's '23 T roadster

                                                               

Jim's vision of what a drag car should be was based on the golden rule of hot rodding: Power to weight ratio. Big news in a small envelope. The fiberglass Speedway body shell weighs little more than a stack of nine second E.T. slips and the homebuilt 2"X3" mild steel frame (100" wheelbase) and chrome moly rollcage do their jobs without adding any excess poundage. Jim gets extra style points for choosing the '34 Ford front suspension (using F-1 shock mounts), 17" American 12-spokes up front and first generation Halibrand mags out back. "Thunderbird Goldenrod Yellow" paint by Fred Maxwell and chrome by Oregon Plating (in Portland) just enhance the visual impact when the "Little Big Man" pulls up to the starting line.

Jim's pals, Justin and Adam Brenneman at B&B Speed Shop in Albany, Oregon whipped up the early Hemi, backed by a Powerglide trans, feeding torque into a 9" Ford rearend packing 4.11 gears. Actually, the little T has seen a few B&B Hemis pass through its engine bay over the years: for eight years, it was a 241" Dodge Red Ram with four Strombergs on alky, running in the low 11 second range, then came a 291" DeSoto (with 330" crank and rods), pulling the car into the 9.60 zone. These days, Jim runs a '56 DeSoto 345 incher, using that Hilborn injector to spray the alcohol into stock heads, where it's squeezed by Wiseco pistons to the tune of 11.78-1 compression. A Chris Nelson (Farmington, Utah) flat tappet cam tickles a mostly stock valvetrain and remnants are removed via B&B headers. As of this writing, the new combo has run a best of 9.29@140mph, and there's still more in it, according to Jim and the B&B gang. The Little Big Man has been in the thick of the action at dragstrips up and down the west coast and shows no sign of getting tired yet. Jim says he's having a blast and he grins all the way down the track on every pass. How could he NOT???

                                       Bob Lindsay's '29 A roadster

Bob knows what he likes and when it comes to powertrain choice, he's sticking with what's been working for him from the beginning: Y-block Ford power and plenty of it! First built in '93 with a deuce frame and a bored out 312 with six twos, Bobs A-bone now dances to the tune of 340 inches of '56 Ford Y-block jazz and it consistently busts a move off the line with every panicy launch. Now the skinny (3") Halibrands jump for joy, thanks to the new chrome moly tube chassis - remember that power to weight ratio rule? It's the key to hot rod happiness! Bob also used the '34 Ford front suspension, but opted for a solid mounted 9" Ford out back with 3.90 gears in the Mark Williams pumpkin and Dutchman axles holding up yet more Halibrands. A Wilcap adapter allows the use of a full on Powerglide race trans behind the archaic Y-block (when Y-blocks and ‘glides were new, who would've thought they'd ever team up to pull a Model A down the track like this?!). The Lincoln Hoflek (Albany, Oregon) painted body is another flyweight fiberglass job (by Anderson Industries), enhanced by Pete Wards' (Lebanon, Oregon) period perfect striping and lettering.

The focal point of Bob's A-bomb has to be the Y-block tucked under the cowl. What started out as a '56 292 block has been bored to 3.830 inches and a Moldex billet crank sporting a 3.70 inch throwing arm brings the cube count up to 340. Downstairs, there's a Jerry Christenson and Virgil Hansen fabbed main bearing girdle to handle the stress of the Oliver rods and Ross pistons doing the cha cha at 6000 rpm. Comp Cams got the nod for valvetrain pieces, while B&B Speed Shop shows more of their handywork via the snarky headers. Perched atop the Jerry Christenson massaged stock heads is a Yestertech intake manifold, supporting the B&M blower. And feeding the huffer is the crown jewel of Bobs silver bullet: The rare Hilborn GMC "E" model hat injector, dumping bucketloads of methanol into the hairy little Y-block. And just how much hair does this thing have on it? Well, so far, an 8.77@151mph is what's printed on the E.T. slip tacked to the bulletin board at the Shedd Cafe. So far, that is.....

                          

The Shedd Cafe on a Tuesday evening. Bob's coupe and Jim's roadster score prime spots.

Bob (left) and Jim (right) have a reserved table, too.

Meanwhile, back at home, a farmer's work is never done...

Banned! Dan Clark's Camaro

The Banned! series consists of feature stories that the corporate media don't want you to see. These are stories I did for various magazines that never were published, for various reasons. This one is a typical example.

Although I've enjoyed working on many musclecars for customers over the years, my personal preference is for older hot rods and customs. But when I stumbled across Dan's Camaro, it's edgy street racer presence won me over.
I assumed the magazines would love it, so I approached Dan about doing this feature. He was into it and let me ride shotgun for a few days and nights, shooting photos and taking notes. I submitted the story to the magazines I'd already done features for and was surprised to find their marketing departments had declared F-bodys to be newstand poison, just like the shoebox Chevys before them. Curious, since both groups still make up such a huge chunk of the street/race/show scene. Granted, they were played out at one point, but seem to be back stronger than ever (to my uneducated eyes).

I continued down the list and approached all the niche titles, including two for first-gen Camaro titles, who all passed on the story. Fine. I moved on.

I felt bad for Dan and by now I had an emotional attachment to the car myself. So I've decided to set the story free here, using some images I like that I know the magazines would never print, as my tastes tend to run a bit more 'eclectic'.  So for what it's worth, here's a sample of the life of Dan Clark - Hard working American and a true hot rod hero.

                  BIG NOISE FROM SMALLTOWN

        72 typical hours in the life of Dan Clark’s REAL street Camaro   

        By Scotty Gosson

       Photography: Scotty Gosson (and Dennis Vollmar)

In the daylight, they look just like the rest of us. They put in an honest day’s work, pay their taxes and pick up the dog poop. The nocturnal transformation is astounding: With glazed eyes and maniacal grins, they chase their flickering headlights into town, where they wag their tails down comatose side streets from curb to curb, exit quickly, and rarely return - disposable performance art of the hardcore order. What’s going on here? Just your standard gearhead adrenaline and passion, unleashed. With relatively affordable power trickling down to Joe Toolbox, Smalltown America is packing more muscle than ever and something has to give -  usually rubber, sometimes hardened steel and occasionally, eardrums.

Our case study is one Daniel Clark - unassuming owner-operator of an HVAC company in southern Oregon by day, asphalt sadist by night. During his high school days in Roseburg, Dan lusted after this ’67 Rally Sport, owned by body man Rueben Weickum. Dan’s dream was to own “the fastest car in town” and he eventually purchased it. A subsequent move down I-5 to Medford put Dan much closer to the dragstrip, where the orange zinger produced low 11s and an obsessive compulsion in Dan to mine more power from the combo. The power came quick and easy and so did the ensuing catastrophic failure. At that point, Clark wisely drafted street/strip guru Charlie Allin into his program and it was on. Charlie transferred the wounded alloy rat into his triage center (Allin Specialties) and Dan takes it from there: “After that motor gave up, one rebuild later, the car went low 10s. Not fast enough. A new top end and it went 9.50 on the motor. A 350 shot of nitrous and the car went 9.07 at 152 MPH”.

Day One

This is where we came in, hitching a ride on Dan’s pursuit of an eight second timeslip (“My dream is to drive it to the track and run 8.50, then drive it home”). He really wants to justify his 8.50 chassis certification tag! Riding shotgun on the street, we were rattled by the rowdy 572 incher, broadcasting heavy vibes through the chassis with every revolution of the crank. Yeah, it uses solid motor mounts, but this was a red flag we should’ve acknowledged with more than a cursory salute. The externally balanced crank was trying to tell us something, but we were having way too much fun to get the message. Dan mumbled something about spending an hour after each drive tightening fasteners throughout the car and we just chuckled in response. Full steam ahead!

 Despite its eight second ambitions, the Camaro is a bona fide street car. “I drive it all over town and pick up my kids from school in it”, says Dan. Indeed, we’ve witnessed it setting off car alarms from one end of town to the other, over the last couple of years. Like any living human, Dan can’t resist going wide open at any opportunity (“to clean off the plugs, you know”) and the side streets see most of the action. While idling through an industrial complex, our shouted conversation turned to the subject of NMCA class rules and the required 25 mile qualifying drive. These days, those so-called ‘real street’ cars are using twin radiators with giant ice tanks, mondo marine style electric water pumps, and multiple batteries to accomplish the feat. Meanwhile, the throwback Camaro’s temp gauge held steady at 180 on a 90 degree evening and we’d been torturing it for over an hour in downtown traffic, after Dan drove it several miles into town. And oh yeah, with the compression dialed at 10.25-1, 91 octane pump gas is Dan’s fuel of choice. He confided, “Those NMCA guys are still heroes, but the whole ‘street class’ deal seems to have lost touch with reality again”. Maybe the Smalltown heroes are the last of the credible fast guys. We snapped some photos and agreed to meet Dan at the track the next night, if he didn’t have to work too late.

Day Two

At Dan’s previous test and tune session, the car had flirted with kissing both guard walls, so some effort was put into correcting that ungentlemanly behavior. A new Smith Racecraft rear suspension installed by Allin Specialties solved Danny’s traction woes with a vengence - and major wheelies are now a staple of the Camaro’s routine (the rear tires trigger the 60’clocks). After six nitrous passes, the eights seemed elusive as ever (a “still pulling” 9.23 at 151 was the night’s highlight) and the exclamation point was epic noise and violence at the stripe on Dan’s last pass, redefining the term “finish line”. A few days later, the track would close for winter.

                                            Photo by Dennis Vollmar

Day Three

The next morning, we rendezvoused at Allin Specialties, where the Merlin block was unceremoniously yanked from the lifeless F-body and the autotopsy began. It was a short procedure. Upon pulling the pan, half of a connecting rod fell out and a broken weld on the oil pump pickup tube glared back at us. Crankshaft harmonics gone wild seem to be the quandary here. The car had tried to warn us. Dan and Charlie reacted predictably, instantly laying out the next edition of the Big Noise: A 4.75” stroke (ahem - internally balanced, this time) will bring the cubes to 632”; Carrillo rods will be employed (Dan: “I guess you’re supposed to replace the rods every ten years or so” – he got 12 years out of these); more cam; Allin Specialties headers; an SRC chrome moly front clip; a lockup converter; etc, etc, etc… As for Dan’s eight second objective, Charlie opines, “The trans went to crap a few weeks ago. The tired converter put 5 percent more slippage on top of the 8 percent it already had. Otherwise, it’d be in the eights right now”. Dan again: “With Charlie’s help, I’ll no doubt easily run 8.50s next summer”.

So Dan’s Camaro is essentially an eight second pump gas ‘small tire’ street car, just waiting for a chance to prove itself. This will be a really long winter for Dan, Charlie, and especially for Dan’s wife Patty, who knows all too well how much Dan likes sitting around, staring at the calendar (he isn’t exactly Mr. Leisure Time). We’re confident that he’ll be rewarded for his patience next spring by getting kicked off the track for running under his certification and license limits. And to those who may disparage the credibility of the NMCA’s ‘street classes’, we say you need look no further than your own town’s back streets to find the more realistic alternative - alive and well, on genuine public roadways. These cars are out there in the real world, driven by real people who work really hard to make real big power. They may be a bit eccentric after hours, but they produce big noise and small E.T. slips. In Smalltown. It doesn’t get any more real than that.

TECH NOTES

Who: Dan Clark

What: ’67 Camaro RS

Where: Medford, Oregon

Engine: For now, the 572” World Products Merlin aluminum block holds an “old beat up” Crower 4.5” crank and Eagle H-beam rods pushing 10.25-1 Bill Miller Engineering slugs. A Milodon pan and pump team up with a GZ Motorsports vacuum pump to lube the beast. An Erson solid roller (274 int/284 ex @ .050”, .748”/.710” lift, with 110 degree centerline) and PBM lifters direct the action to Dart 355cc CNC’d Pro 1 heads with 121cc chambers. The 1050 cfm Holley Dominator on a Profiler “Sniper” manifold mixes pump gas with an NOS 350 shot of nitrous. A one gallon tank behind the left headlight acts as a nitrous enrichment supply, with a Holley ‘blue pump’ (modified by Allin Specialties) and a Mallory bypass at the fuel solenoid increasing line pressure to keep the switch from constantly triggering, which keeps the pressure consistent. Bullet Machine in Medford did the heavy lifting and assembly. This combo delivered 924.06 HP @ 6400 RPM and 1,296.08 ft lb @ 5350 RPM to the slicks on the chassis dyno at Allin Specialties. As mentioned in the text, bigger and better things are coming to the Camaro’s engine bay this winter.

Ignition: The MSD Digital 6 box, Blaster coil and Pro Billet distributor with Pro cap (for rotor phasing: “They’re always off”, says Charlie) keeps Champion race plugs zapping across a .025” gap.

Exhaust: Dynatech 2 1/8” primary headers with 4” collectors feed the refuse to a 3 1/2” Allin Specialties X-pipe system, terminating into Borla XR-1 Sportsman mufflers.

Transmission: A B&M shifted Hughes full race Powerglide with trans brake hides a Marv Ripes A1 5600 stall (naturally aspirated) converter. This setup doesn’t care if it’s on the street or strip, performing flawlessly in both environments.

     Rearend: Allin Specialties started with a Strange 9” housing blank and built the rearend, stuffed with a Strange Ultra Case holding 3.70 Richmond Pro Gears, gun drilled 40 spline axles with profiled flanges and    5/8” drive studs, tucked into Strange billet housing ends. This bruiser employs (3/8” wall) 3 ¼” tubes, connected by a herculean Allin Specialties back brace. It’s holding up just fine to the 1,296 foot pounds, thank you very much.

Suspension: This is no tube framed racer with license plates. Homemade subframe connectors and an Allin Specialties chrome moly rollcage tie everything together, but it’s just your basic back-halved street car. The front suspension is stock for now, but for some A-arm trimming to clear the bump stops for travel. It’s a little more serious in back, where a Smith Racecraft 4-link kit was installed by Charlie, featuring Strange double adjustable coilovers, a wishbone locator and an anti-roll bar. Um, there are no wheelie bars…

Wheels/Tires: The focal point: 10.5W X 28 sticky Mickeys are clamped to 15 X 10 Champion Wheels with Top Fuel style double beadlocks, gripped by Strange 5/8” drive studs. Bringing the point full circle: 5 X 26 skinny Minnies ride on 4 X 15 Champs.

Interior: Gennie OEM statement is made inside, thanks to a relatively low key Allin Specialties rollcage, surrounding swap meet poly seats and Crow harnesses. There’s Autometer gauges and a B&M shifter – otherwise, it’s 1967 in here.

Paint/Body: This was the hook for Dan. His high school pal Rueben Weickum worked his magic on the F-body back then and it’s still working today. All Dan could tell us about it is there’s very little filler and the orange paint sizzles under the lights and pops in the sun. It’ll get your attention from a block away. The sheetmetal, chrome and glass is all original, except for the fiberglass hood.

Power: 924 horsepower and 1,296 foot pounds equals 9.07 @ 152 MPH in Dan’s 3,342 pound Camaro. And there’s more on the way. Will it be enough to go 8.50s? Stay tuned…

Midnight Oil: Shellski

Shellski with Sheila the Wonder Dog. Shellski's definitely the better driver of the two.

                                                             

This April, my girlfriend Shellski and I celebrated our sixth year together. Most of those have been the best years of my life (understatement), but there have been some wild rides. She’s an unlikely match for a knuckledragger like me. Being an artist, she was already somewhat acclimated to edgy characters and when she discovered that I’m a writer and a musician, she figured she had me pegged. I figured I had my foot in the door. When it started looking like we might actually be going somewhere, we had the Here’s Who I Really Am talk. I was shocked and disgusted by revelations such as: The day Shellski refused to go to school (for the whole day!); the time she… well, that’s it, really. Then it was my turn. I took a deep breath and blurted out my horrible dark secret: “I’m a lifelong hot rodder!” I closed my eyes tight and braced for the reaction of a Berkeley-bred intellectual. She was smitten! It turns out, Shellski has an adventurous side and has always been intrigued by power and speed. I must’ve exhaled for a good twenty seconds. For the first time in my life, I knew the true meaning of ‘Love’ and ‘Peace’.

The vehicle in question ('61 Morris Minor): 2100 pounds, 550 + horsepower. You do the math...

                                                            

The next few days were spent rumbling around town in the little hot rod. We slowly worked up from quick-tease throttle blips on surface streets to extended wide open banzai blasts down deserted country roads. The first time I really laid into it, I could barely hear the exhaust over her screaming (and that’s some LOUD exhaust). I glanced over to find her in a pre-orgasmic state of delight. I can only hope that memory stays with me after the last brain cell calcifies. We drove home that day with a trail of pink cartoon hearts trailing in our wake.

About a month later, we were returning from another “test session” when Shellski asked me (with her eyes) if she could drive the car. Just when I didn’t think I could be any happier. I dropped anchor right there and began the expert tutorial: “Squeeze this lever while pulling this one back to find first gear. This switch turns on the main power. Pump the throttle halfway, once. Hold down the starter button with your thumb, while using your pinkee to trip the ignition switch. Etc, etc, etc”. She was a natural! Within minutes, I was confident enough to strap myself into the passenger seat and we pulled out onto a two way city street. What a glorious moment! Bliss. With 3.90 gears and short tires, it didn’t take long (about 50 feet) to reach the top of first gear. Even when moseying along like this (just off idle), the 1-2 shift is an event in this car and I braced for it. Good, because next thing I know, we’re sideways in a cloud of rubber smoke and crossing over into oncoming traffic! “What the?!” A blur of frantic maneuvering got us pulled over to the shoulder, where the adrenaline-fueled questioning commenced:

Scotty: “What the?!”

Shellski: “You already said that”

Scotty: “Yeah, but… what the?!”

Shellski: “I think something might be wrong with the clutch”

Scotty: “What?!”

Shellski: “Well, it felt like it was time to shift into second”

Scotty: “Yeah, it was, but…”

Shellski: “So I pushed in the clutch before I shifted and man, it’s stiff! I couldn’t push it down much. Is that what made us slide like that?”

That’s right. Mr. Expert Driving Instructor had failed to inform the ‘natural born hot rod pilot’ that this car had an automatic transmission. And a brake pedal on the far left side. With the violent manually controlled shifts (full manual valve body, not to mention a trans brake and 5800 stall converter), Shellski had kept her eyes on the road (survival skill #1) and assumed I’d been clutching away like Ronnie Sox during those test runs. She assumed it was a stick. I assumed she was impressed with my race automatic. Valuable assumption lessons learned. It’s served us well ever since.

Within a week, Shellski was making full throttle passes and threading through traffic like an old pro. I swelled with pride, watching her wheel the car into coffee shop parking lots, as her baffled friends stared slackjawed with shock, suspicion and concern. Alas, the car is gone now, but Shellski’s still here. And we rarely make assumptions.

"Author"

Photo by Shellski

Now we enter into my least favorite aspect of the creative process: Promotion. I adhere to a more Buddist approach to creativity: Create your work with true inspiration and the good Karma will carry the finished product to wherever it's meant to go. Create with the loving care of a parent, then turn it loose to find its own way in the world. How that happens is supposed to be out of my hands. Yet I must be willing to do the legwork to enable the process.

So it was that I found myself at a local car event last weekend, hocking my wares like the hucksters I often judge and condemn. I'd tried for weeks to find a high zoot wagon to display at my booth (preferably one from my book), but it apparently wasn't meant to be. On the opening morning of the show, the promoter approached me with the concept of sharing my booth space with some women selling raffle tickets to raise funds for school supplies for foster children. The $10 tickets bought chances at winning a finished '56 Handyman, with a 327/TH-350 combo. It turned out, my pal Chris Darland (Chris' Hot Rodz) had built the car for a local collector who donated it to the foster kid people. It felt like the thing to do and turned out to be.

My financial backers insisted I write a bio to display with the books and this is what they got:

WARNING!          BOOK AUTHOR               WARNING!           

Born in a one-car garage he helped his father build in the shadow of Mt. Hood, automotive author Scotty Gosson was reportedly killed by a bear at Madras Drag Strip in 1966. Recently revealed records indicate Gosson was actually enrolled in an early experimental version of the witness protection program by the Oregon Department of Motor Vehicles in 1964. He studied passenger vehicle chassis dynamics at an undisclosed location until entering a work release program at a rural Jackson County wrecking yard in 1974.

Upon being ‘outed’ by an Oregonian newspaper expose on underground writer/fabricators in 1997, Gosson went mainstream, authoring feature articles in Hot Rod, Hot Rod Deluxe, Car Craft, Rod & Custom, Drag Racing USA, Goodguys Gazette and other periodicals.

Now living in Medford, Oregon, Scotty Gosson works as an author for CarTech Inc. His current effort, ‘America’s Coolest Station Wagons’, has been lauded as “Okay” by the New York Times Book Review and Time magazine trumpeted, “It could be worse”. Vogue gushed, “Doesn’t suck too bad”, while the San Francisco Chronicle refused to accept their copy of the book. In the midst of his 54^th year of zero consecutive Pulitzer Prize nominations (“Next year, for sure!”), Gosson’s next CarTech compilation, ‘Rat Rods (Rodding’s Imperfect Stepchildren)’ is due for a fall 2011 release.



This set the tone for my entry into corporate prostitution at an event I loathed, the Medford Cruise. Having grown up on Medford's streets in the 60s, it's torturous for me to hear this event promoted every year as a depiction of "Cruising, just like it was back in the day!" You bet. This "cruise" (like too many others across the country) is merely a parade on a couple miles of blocked off city streets at 5 MPH for the townfolk lining the sidewalks, hoping for more entertainment than that night's TV re-runs. Any of the behavior I'd once engaged in on those streets would get me instantly arrested (just like back in the day!) and scapegoated for "ruining it for all the 'real' car people". Gack!

But this was also my official coming out party as a bona fide author. I went with that and had a good time with the foster kid people and the curious who dropped by to see the book (including several encouraging friends). It was a pretty warm and fuzzy outing for this corporate whore.

                                                                     Photo by Shellski

I have more book events ahead this summer and this was a relaxed way to ease into my new role. Just for the record, I fried rubber all the way home after the final day of the show, then ran up the stairs to my office, where I clacked the keys for hours, in a desperate attempt to prove some integrity to myself, before falling asleep in a sweaty puddle of exhaustion.

Chances are, I'll eventually grow to accept promotion as necesarry to being self-supporting by my own contributions. That's one of my writing goals. Meanwhile, I'm the twitchy self concious guy, 'acting out' with smartass remarks delivered with a childish passive agressiveness. For everyone's sake, I hope to grow out of this phase soon.

                                                               Photo by Shellski
Photo by Shellski

                                                                                               Photo by Shellski

Drifters

It's been quiet around the blogsite lately. Too quiet... I'm thrashing like a mad fiend to make the deadline for "Rat Rods - Rodding's Imperfect Stepchildren" (for CarTech) and there hasn't been much time for anything else. So last weekend, I made some time to cleanse my palette and had some fun in the process.

One of my current independent book projects is "Racing to America" (working title), about overseas racers who come to run in the U.S. in a variety of motorsports. One of those niches is drifting. I connected with Sarah and Adam Burgess, Aussie drag racers who caught drift fever and are taking aim at the U.S. circuit this year. I've seen snippets of drift footage on TV and Youtube, but had yet to see this spectacle in person. So when I got word of a small local grassroots drift, it seemed like a great place to start my education. I was right.

The event was staged in the local fairgrounds parking lot. About 30 entries drew about 30 spectators, counting me. I arrived to find this day of the event (Saturday) was for testing, learning and generally jangling with friends and family. Things would get serious on Sunday, when competition commenced. Hanging at a local car event and not knowing anyone was a refreshing and surreal experience. Until I ran into Phil and Melissa Shreeve, casual acquaintances to me, who I had no clue were interested in cars at all. They had come to watch son Justin run, which is rare, as he's usually too busy videoing events for his Tandem of Die company (originally dubbed 'Tandem OR Die', they liked the quirkyness of the typo better). Now that I had an 'in' with some experts, I took full advantage and actually learned a bit about the subject. Phil and Melissa always struck me as nice folks and now I was really impressed with Justin - who went out of his way to make me feel welcome and insuring that I got a full access pass and the whole rock star treatment. I really like these guys. And I instantly dug the drifters - my new poster boys for grassroots motorsports, hanging it all out there for a rush and a grin. I just hope they haven't ruined Sarah Burgess and the pro corporate-level XDC Drift events for me.

                                             My hosts for the day, Phil and Melissa Shreeve.

                                                                     Justin Shreeve

These guys go through a thousand bucks worth of rubber faster than a cat can lick his ass with his tongue out and his tail up. Tire dealers are highly coveted sponsors.

Justin's Nissan is driven hard and put up wet, like every car there. He says the independent rear works "just fine" for drifting. These guys don't let anything get in their way - check the zip ties holding the glass nose together in foreground. Typical. This was shot while Justin helped with a front clip swap in the next pit over.

The lions share of cars at this grassroots level are daily drivers, with Nissan 240SX's being the weapon of choice for most competitors. Passengers are encouraged ("It's more fun, having someone to scare") and only a helmet is required.

Did I mention the Banzai mentality of these guys? Bumping into stuff (like each other) is the nature of the beast. No wonder this was such a rage on Tokyo streets - those guys were doing this to $10,000 paint jobs in drifting's infancy.

               The sheetmetal may no longer be beautiful (in the conventional sense), but it still drifts like a figure skater chasing gold at the Olympics.

                                                                I rest my case...

 After a day of this, I'm now a desciple of the Tandem of Die cult. Since this was just a practice day, I got to see as many as four cars at a time on the track, drifting only inches apart. Shouldn't NASCAR require a drift section on every track?

I turned and snapped one last image on my way out. Then it was back to work for the man. But it was fun playing hookey for a while and I even learned something. Bonus. Thanks Phil, Melissa and Justin!