surfnsprint

After three road trips that kept drivers away for five weeks, Sprint Car racing returned to Ventura last night. I paid five bucks to the parking girl, fourteen bucks to the ticket lady and two bucks to that cool guy in the trailer that gives me a program and a pencil. I’m now sitting at the top of turn one with my racing pals as the passing train blows that high and lonesome. I can smell the cool ocean air as I eat a sandwich. I feel like I’m in a beautiful dream as the first sprint car pushes off…..

VRA Senior Sprints hit the track. This first heat is loaded with quality drivers such as Wiley Miller, Danny Miller, Dave Marini, Bruce Douglas, Bob Alderman and Bob Hedlund. Five of the drivers in this heat are in the points top ten. Danny took an early lead, with Marini and Wiley giving chase. After a couple of laps Wiley passed Marini and started chasing his brother. In the end he never did catch him, closing with Danny Miller in first, Wiley Miller in second, (how great is it to race your brother in a sprint car?) Dave Marini in third and #62 in fourth. #62 wasn’t in the program and I never did find out who it was. Former Senior Champion Bruce Douglas still seems to be fighting that new car. It must be tough for a very competitive guy.

Second heat includes “Gentleman Jim” Porter, Tim Moon (back from an unbelievable crash in Santa Maria), the unrelenting Ron Bach, John Richards, Grady Winkler, Ron Butler (my own personal hero) and a couple of other guys I don’t know. At the green, Butler jumps out in front of Moon, closely followed by Gentleman Jim. As Bach starts moving up, Moon passes Butler still followed by Porter. Butler starts fading as Bach muscles his way up to second and Richards is working hard for the fourth spot. Butler stalled in the last two laps and the restart is with Moon, Bach, Porter and Richards. Despite Tim Moon’s strong drive, Bach somehow gets around him and finishes first. Moon, Porter and Richards follow him across the finish line with Winkler barely challenging for the transfer. I have to comment; I saw Tim Moon’s car after his Santa Maria crash and it amazes me how these guys climb back into the driver’s seat. That was a great heat, Tim, showing what you’re made of.

That was it for the seniors, only two heats.

Looking up at the sunset, I see Mike Truex silhouetted at the top of the official’s tower hunched over that video camera. If you’re not buying those Loudpedal DVD’s you are missing some great stuff. There is nothing (almost) better late at night than looking at last week’s race. It really gives you a chance to dig into the details and the drama. Drives my wife nuts.

The first VRA Sprints are rolling. I see Steve Gresham’s 07 car but it is being driven by Jimmy Crawford. Crawford (frequent visitor) is an exciting driver and he has plenty of company in this heat. Blake Miller, Kevin Kierce, Luis Espinoza, Shawn Kautz, Derek Buckley and young John Nock line up. At the start, Kautz is out front but quickly starts slipping. Blake takes his customary heat position in the lead followed by Crawford and Kierce. That’s pretty much how it ended. Blake Miller held off the dynamic duo of Crawford and Kierce. Shawn Kautz took the fourth transfer position by barely (inches) holding off a late charging Espinoza. Really surprising to see Espinoza miss the transfer, it looked like his set up was off. I also thought I would see Buckley mixing it up?

Second heat was the least exciting for me (I’m sure the drivers would take umbrage with that). After a little dust up at the beginning of the race, that took out Tom Hendricks, Dennis Rodriquez ran away from the group that included Wes Richardson and Oren Prosser Jr. in respective positions. Larry Lloyd and Ron Wade were fighting a bit for fourth with Lloyd winning out. But it wasn’t much of a fight. This Dennis Rodriquez is an interesting driver, at times he really seems on his game.

Whenever I see the 7 car roll onto the track, I’m pretty sure I’m going to see a race. Greg Taylor has a no nonsense approach to racing. That is, he doesn’t like being in second place. Last week I wrote he was “Taylor the Terrible”. His girlfriend says to me “he’s not terrible”. Not to you, dear, but I’ve seen him lay waste to so many drivers that the name seems to fit. Heat three starts with Mark Weitzman on the pole and Greg on the outside. Joe Henderson and Bill Camarillo were sitting right behind them. Angel Figueroa and Brandon Thomson are in the third row with lonely Charles Turner sitting behind them. On the green flag, Taylor jumped out front but Camarillo quickly was passing him. That seemed to aggravate Taylor who flew out of turn two with a huge lift and wrestled back the lead. Greg never looked back after that. Camarillo wobbled and traded places with Weitzman. Henderson or Thomson was bringing up the rear transfer spot. The only thing I was sure of at the finish was that Greg won this heat. I was informed later that Weitzman, Camarillo and Thomson followed in that order.

The fourth heat was the first real fist fight of all the heats. Tom Stansberry, Chris Wakim, Steve Conrad, Rob Kershaw, Jim Thomson, Tom Schneider and John Hale (not listed on the program) lined up two wide for the final heat. Stansberry took an early lead with Wakim, Conrad and Kershaw in hot pursuit. Stansberry started fading mid race under a grueling onslaught by the other three leading drivers. Wakim claimed the lead, then Conrad. At that point, Wakim stuffed Conrad behind a lapped car and reclaimed the lead. Kershaw was in third hanging with the two of them and Stansberry settled for the fourth transfer spot as they all crossed. The intensity generated by Wakim, Conrad, Kershaw and Stansberry was a highlight of the heat races for me.

Before I describe the VRA Sprints semi main, let me say that I think Jim Naylor is a god. 60 Minutes ought to be down here doing a story on this super promoter. I can just see the footage of him screaming into the microphone as his field of drivers chase down another exciting finish. I just love the fact that he makes everybody wait mid evening as he takes his tractor out and blades the track. He does a better job on that track then I do shaving. He loves a good track, he loves a good race, he loves his drivers and he’s right that winged sprints are inferior! Once or twice I’ve tried to tell him that I dig his action, but he just looks away and starts changing the subject. Beautiful guy. Thanks for making sprint car racing happen here.

That said, Jimmy, you spritzed the track a bit much tonight. They got so much water on the track that Espinoza thought he should have gone home and gotten his boat. The semi started out as synchronized sliding. It was a series of comical pile ups that slowly started emptying the field. At one point, Hendricks, Nock and Weitzman stacked up in turn one looking like the no see, no speak, no hear monkeys. At the end Angel Figueroa edged out Luis Espinoza, followed by John Nock and Ron Wade. The Affleck Duck came in fifth.

The senior main event got on with a drier track and had a great race. “Gentleman Jim” Porter got out front early and was being chased by Wiley and Danny Miller. Moon was back a little bit but gaining. At this point, Danny Miller spun out on turn four and left the track. On the restart, it was Porter, Moon and Bach with Bob Hedlund starting to push up from the middle. Porter drove a flawless race holding off the persistent Moon and Bach. I didn’t see who finished fourth (it was probably Wiley). But for me the real story was second year driver Bob ‘The Mayor” Hedlund driving home a fifth place finish. This race was easily his best driving and finish ever. His sons did the set up and they couldn’t have been prouder. Somewhere Greg Taylor was smiling.

“Let’s get ready to rumble!!!!” How sweet to hear that familiar announcement again. As all the cars loaded for the main event, I checked the starting positions. Crawford took the pole with Steve Conrad on his right. Taylor and Blake Miller sat behind them. Dennis Rodriquez and Chris Wakim took the third row. Wes Richardson and Weitzman took up the fourth row with Camarillo and Kershaw stacked behind them. I don’t think anybody further back ever factored in this race. One driver later explained to me that when the track is this clean, it’s hard to get from the back to the front. It is true that all the winners of this race came from the front four rows. On a blisteringly fast start, Crawford took the early lead with Taylor constantly challenging. After four or five laps, Taylor relegated Crawford to second and then Miller relegated him to third. Blake quickly caught up to Taylor and began trying to stick his nose under Greg. Taylor wasn’t having it, snapping his turns so hard I thought he was backing into first place. Crawford was looking less than his usual self, starting to fade as Wakim, looking just like his usual self, started picking up spots. Conrad was in the middle of this whole battle, with pressure on all sides. Wakim passed Crawford, but a crash at the other end of the track brought out a yellow and Chris had to revert to his previous position for the restart. The restart with sixteen laps left had Taylor, Miller, Conrad, Crawford and Wakim in that order. Kershaw and Richardson were having their own little battle behind all of this; the rest of them may as well have been in Oxnard.

At this point, Wakim really pushed the high line and quickly gained two spots to third. Miller never gave up trying to catch Taylor, but the micro space between them started growing. Wakim’s high line started to turn against him as the cushion never really developed and he was holding at third. Conrad had a part fall off and lost position. At the very end Crawford’s car seemed to give up. Kershaw settled the dispute he was having with Richardson (fine drive, Wes).

That’s how it finished with Taylor never flinching, Miller never giving up (how sick of second place is this fine driver?) Wakim taking a hard earned third and Kershaw running fourth.

As the winning sprint drivers assembled in the infield, the track had to run the dwarf finals. I watched as Wakim, Taylor and Miller huddled together and I assume they talked about the race. I could see the photographer come over and line them up for a picture. I don’t think the lens could be wide enough to capture all that skill, guts and heart.

I thought about the coming weekend with all the Bandits riding into town. I thought about the pride the local drivers have for this track. I was thinking about the depth and commitment of guys like Kershaw, Wakim, Miller and Taylor. I was thinking about Jim Naylor and Cliff Morgan…..

“you’ll find us rough, sir, but you’ll find us ready…”

Once you get to Bakersfield, the heart and soul of the Central Valley, you will glide past the rail yards and the river and get off at Buck Owens Boulevard. That will take you right to the Buck Owens Crystal Palace, a museum, concert venue, restaurant and bar celebrating the career of Buck Owens. That’s how we started our trip and it was a blast.

Walking into Bakersfield Speedway pit area, I was surprised how wide the pitting area was. This is a true sprint car alley, a long broad boulevard lined with cars, trailers and pop up tents. A water truck was knocking down the dust as the crews pored over the cars. As I wandered through, I saw that all the usual suspects were in town. They had in excess of 40 cars pitted. This Grand Slam series seems to have really captured the imagination of both drivers and fans alike. Both Hanford and Santa Maria had a full field of drivers and packed stands, tonight wasn’t going to be any different.

The track is your standard oval; grass in the infield is a nice touch. The stands are a wrapping amphitheater, concrete stadium style. We had been warned to bring our lawn chairs and that was the cool ticket. Nothing fancy or romantic here, but like Bakersfield itself, I could see this place got the job done.

I was with the “Mayor” and Vicki and we had dragged along the kids and grandkids. They were as excited as popping corn. We picked our choice viewing location high above turn 4. I could see the oil derricks in the distance. We had a sweeping view of the straightaway and clear line on the rest of the track. With the sun behind us, the raceway was bright and warm as the qualifications began.

I wanted to head back to the pits and take some photos under the golden afternoon light. Lea had a list of all the cars and she was going to monitor the times. She recorded the quickest time as 13.008 with the honors going to racing stalwart Greg Porte. That’s fast! Australian rogue Peter Murphy came in the second fastest time of 13.017. No worries here! Third fastest went to young Evan Suggs with13.056. I love watching this kid drive. Equally impressive was VRA driver Blake Miller right behind him with 13.271. Other Ventura standouts were Templeman, Prosser and Wakim. Bruce Douglas also clocked an impressive 13.416 (fourth among the VRA).

I have learned in the past few years that if you really want to enjoy the main event, watch all of the heat races. It gives you the first indication of set ups, attitude and problems. It gives the fan the edge in evaluating which cars are going to be fast. They had so many cars that they had to run five heats, eight laps with the first three cars advancing into the main event. That’s lean. The stands were filling up rapidly as the first heat loaded onto the field.

The first lap set the tone for all that followed. Rusty Carlile grabbed a quick lead followed closely by Greg Taylor. Richard Harvey settled neatly into the third slot and there were no challengers. Eight laps passed quickly and they transferred. I ordered a Gatorade in the prettiest color they had and sharpened my pencil.

Second heat mimicked the first. Early leaders Johnny Burnett, Peter Murphy and Steve Conrad took their positions and refused to relinquish. Murphy made some half hearted attempts to get around Burnett, seemed annoyed but elected to settle for second. Pick your battles, I thought. Surprisingly, Kevin Kierce did not advance.

Third heat had some problems. Jonathan Logan, Tom Stansberry and Les Richardson were the early birds. Evan Suggs was going to challenge but seemed to catch a bump on turn 3 and hit the wall pretty hard, with sparks flying as he grinded a good twenty yards. Then it seemed like he was trying to get back down on the track and start racing again. The car had other ideas and slammed him back into the wall again on turn 4. Evan got the message and hung up the phone. ‘Too bad’ I thought as they hooked his car, I love watching that kid race. The early birds finished positions unchanged.

The fourth heat lined up. Hobie Conway was on the pole. But what caught my attention were the outside positions. Luis Espinoza was on the front row, Chris Wakim sat right behind him and Blake Miller sat right behind him. This will be interesting. Hobie hit the wall at turn 3 (turn 3 checked a lot of cars this evening) on the first lap. She tore up her car pretty bad and had to be dragged off the track. Tough break for a well liked Ventura driver. Now Espinoza took the lead right off the restart and was being consistently challenged by his friend Chris Wakim. But Luis seems to know Chris’s tricks and was effectively blocking at every turn. Wakim, like Murphy in heat 2, seemed annoyed but settled for second. Third place was a different story. Miller had fallen behind Joe Henderson and was desperately trying to get around him before the whip came down. On the last lap in the last turn in the last possible moment they were in hand to hand combat and banged hard. Miller straightened his rig out and sailed into third place while Henderson sustained damage and came to a wrenching halt. It was a revealing moment that showed Blake Miller’s utter determination. It was the first real fight for a transfer spot all evening.

But it wasn’t the last. In the fifth and final heat, Reeves, Kershaw (driving extremely well) and Devitt were locked into the final lap. Clark Templeman III mounted a tire smoking and front end lifting last ditch effort to pass Devitt, missing by inches. He would be back in the semi, but his evening was going to get much worse.

By now, The Bakersfield Speedway was showing her charms. The sun was had gone down and a fat Harvest moon was rising behind the raceway. The temperature was balmy and perfect, with little breeze. The stands were full of beer drinking race fans. It was a packed house and a beautiful evening. We had a big screen view of the whole mess and you couldn’t scrub the smile off our faces.

Two semis, ten laps with three transfers per race. Desperation series, or as the announcer put it “put the biscuits on the plate and pour the gravy or go home!” Cool announcer, lots of fun. “Holy guacaaaaaamole!

The first semi loaded fourteen cars. A lot of talented drivers that didn’t want to go home included Porte, Templeman, Seamus, Kierce, Douglas, Figueroa and Hunsaker. On the green flag both Templeman and Porte jumped at it, beginning a duel that lasted ten laps. Early in the race Todd Hunsaker rolled badly in turn 1. I was at the opposite end and couldn’t see the circumstances of his demise. On the restart, Kevin Kierce in the fifth position immediately made it clear he wasn’t going home. His car was running tighter than a Martha Stewart ankle bracelet. He immediately blew past somebody and so and so; he wasn’t taking any names. On the final stretch Porte held off a determined Templeman with Kierce locking up third.

The second semi was also full of first class drivers including Dan Woods, Jim Richardson, Ron Bach, Rick Gifford and Shawn Katz. After a couple of spins we had Richardson, Gifford and Woods leading the race. As the big gates were closing on the final chance to transfer, desperate Shawn Katz overstepped and rolled his car badly. The resulting red was checkered so that they could get the mains underway.

Now I don’t normally comment on Ponies and Mods because I’m simply into Sprints. But this was a night when I saw a mini stock race that blew my mind. New car owner Frank Bigham and driver David Peterson had the race of a lifetime Saturday at Bakersfield. Watching the black 45 car slowly work it’s way from the middle of the pack and challenge race leader Roy Duncan in a blender green pick up had the whole audience engaged. Once he passed Duncan, Peterson had his hands full as that green pickup assaulted him from every possible angle. Duncan tried every trick in the book to reclaim that lead, I could even hear him shouting something about “yo momma” as they passed turn 4. But despite the thrashing that Duncan inflicted on him, Peterson in the black 45 looked like the little engine that could as he held his position and precariously pushed himself across the finish line. One excited driver climbed out of that car and thanked a roaring crowd for sharing the experience with him!

First time I’ve ever seen a sprint main event have a hard time following a mini stock! As the sprints took the field for the final race, I quickly evaluated positions. Grand Slam maestro Peter Murphy was fifth row outside. VRA points leader Blake Miller sat to his inside. Les Richardson sat on the pole with Johnny Burnett holding his right hand. Carlile and Kershaw, both looking very strong in the heats, sat in the second row. Wakim was fourth row inside, Porte was sixth row inside. Taylor was eight row inside with Stansberry on his right. Clark Templeman sat right behind Stansberry on the ninth row. Kevin Kierce was halfway back to Ventura in the tenth row.

When the green light hit, early leaders Carlile, Conrad and Kershaw were being pressed by Wakim and Les Richardson. Peter Murphy was jumping up from his fifth row, but Wakim had him stymied for a couple of laps. At this point, Burnett got mixed up with Bandit Bobby Elliot and there was car damage. As the cars filed by on the next lap of the yellow, Elliot appeared to be trying to get a message to Tom Stansberry by throwing a piece of his car at the 75t. Not sure exactly what he was trying to say.

Now we have Carlile on the point for the restart at about lap 7. At this point the race heated up, with Peter Murphy deciding if he couldn’t get around the boys on the bottom, he would just have to pass them on the top and outside. He kicked it and quickly started passing the remaining cars on the outside. His march was interrupted by a bad crash which had Clark Templeman in the wall. According to the announcer, Stansbury was putting a slide move on Templeman coming into turn one. I hated to see Templeman’s crumpled wreck lying between turn one and two. He was having an excellent run in this Grand Slam Series and for the season in general. I was too far away to see if he threw any car parts at the 75t.

Now the race had morphed into Murphy, Carlile and Wakim holding their positions. Another crash in turn 3 took out Blake Miller. During the red, Wakim had his tire run over and had to leave the track for a change. That put him in the rear when he returned.

On the fresh restart with about six laps left to go, everything started coming to a rapid conclusion. Murphy was putting distance between himself and the pack, delegating the battle to the second and third place positions. Behind all the dust, Carlile seemed to be trading spots with Harvey and Kershaw. Greg Taylor was rapidly moving up from the middle of the pack and seemed to be threatening all but Murphy. On about the 27th lap all hell seemed to break loose with Porte crashing in the front stretch, Templeman and Kierce locking wheels at turn 1. I guess the officials decided to call it quits at that with Murphy taking the win, diligent Rusty Carlile taking the second spot, Kershaw in third and Taylor in fourth. Some people are saying Taylor had third, but I didn’t see that.

Special thanks to Lea for all your help.

My truck is rated to pull about 8,000 pounds. With the box trailer, the sprint car, the quad, the tool boxes and the ice chests we were probably pulling about 5,000 pounds. The back of the pickup provides about 77 square feet of cargo space. With the spare tires, chairs and personal items we were probably only using half of that. But the real payload was in the crew cab. It was stuffed full with a big Swede sprint driver, two brawny pit crew members, two lovely team support members and a greenie car sponsor. But mostly, when we pulled into the Santa Maria Speedway Saturday afternoon, that cab was full of gritty, focused, singled, bone picking determination. Win.

This speedway sits down low, bigger than Ventura, not quite as wide as Kings. It’s tucked up nice against a high western hillside, crowned by time worn stand of wind breaking Eucalyptus. Spectators sit with their backs to that hill, with this racetrack laid out below them and another classic racetrack, the 101 freeway right behind it. At this track, not only are the ovals banked, the straight-aways are also distinctly banked. An interesting confluence of planes, rotations and distance me thinks! Meanwhile, that cool coastal air started moving west to east, making for a pleasant afternoon and a very cool evening.

Down in the pits, there is a lot of hustle getting the cars ready. There are bleeders, groovers and stagger changing movers all at work. There is plenty of time, with the qualifications not even starting until 6 o’clock. However, it seems that as soon as these crews get their cars dialed in, they sit back in their chairs for 20 minutes staring at it, then get up and start tearing something else apart. Or they redo what they just did. Or they get up and check it for the third time. There is lots of checking, lots of sitting and lots of helping your neighbor.

The smell of chicken cooking over green oak began wafting down from the concession stands. I know it sounds funny, but this track smells good. The prevailing breezes push down the hill with a combination of cooked chicken, eucalyptus and California sage brush washing over everything.

The track announcer made the rounds, introducing himself to the visiting drivers, learning about them, making notes and making friends. This resulted some great announcing the rest of the evening, intelligent, informed and interesting. Well done.

Espinoza pulled the pill for the first qualifying time and rolled the 09 car out to the fresh dirt. With the track record standing at 13.354, he posted a decent 14.359. However, the regulars came out and started posting faster including Pombo at 13.91, Porte at about 13.957 and Knopf at 14.110. Templeman was fast, Wakim was fast and I’m sure there were some others. Unfortunately, I was forced to inspect the sanitation facilities at this point and I think I missed the fastest time. Amateur.

I hooked up with my out of town friends and we went to find some seats for the racing. The place was packed and we were forced to sit down low in the mud slinging section.

However, it did set us up for some slow motion destruction viewing that was about to unfold.

The first heat was intense, featuring local favorites Knopf and Pombo. It ended up Katz (? couldn’t find him on the program), Pombo, Hood and Knopf qualifying for the main event.

Second heat brought on the first of two spectacular crashes during the evening. After the third restart of the heat, Chris Wakim in the 9w was coming out of turn 4 battling Jeremy Ellertson in the 98 car for the same piece of dirt. Wakim was in the middle of a slide move that never completed. As tires meet Wakim went airborne over Ellertson. Right in front of us I watched as his first bounce was brutal, catapulting him back into the air for a turning, rolling, corkscrewing series of bounces down the front straightaway, finally coming to rest in the upside down position, tires and axles dangling wickedly on all sides, oil dripping everywhere. Chris says when he finally opened his eyes, his blessed St Christopher medal was laying in the mud right below him. “just gimme that” he told the first emergency worker to arrive.

The rest of the heat was slightly less eventful but no less determined with Carlile, Templeton, Rodriquez and Kierce advancing. All four of these guys were huge at Hanford at week earlier.

Third heat had a skilled charge by Greg Porte followed across the line by Darren Simas, Santa Cruz area local Evan Suggs and VRA driver Ryan Devitt.

I found the final heat as the most interesting with local Danny Sheridan and Peter “No Worries” Murphy having their first dust up. Rick Williams, substitute driving the 75t car (Stansbury) was also up front. Young Blake Miller was also charging, exhibiting his patented, methodical and relentless precision driving. Murphy crossed first, followed by Williams, Sheridan and Miller.

The second semi main provided the 2nd significant crash of the day. On an early caution, when the yellow came out it appears that Tim Moon in the 10 car didn’t see it in time while coming out of turn 3. He did a “rear wheel jump” over (I think it was) Joey Layman. As he launched, he started climbing the crash fence, snapping two protective cables. I thought for a moment he was going to clear the top (and so did the spectators on the other side who started scrambling faster than a pony stock heat race) but gravity took over, pulling his frame and body back down hard on the concrete barrier. After the race, I asked him what was going thru his mind when he started to climb that fence. He said that he was unaware of the fence, he was concentrating on getting his body real small. Looking at the remains of his car frame, we could see where the concrete wall had smashed the frame and the fiberglass hood directly in front of the driver’s seat. I didn’t ask whether he had a St. Christopher’s medal.

The rest of that semi proceeded crash free, with strong driving by the entire crew. Steve Conrad looked decisive. Bob Hedlund (in his second year behind the wheel) was very aggressive in the first half of the run, but started having tire pressure issues and faded in the second half. Greg Taylor, without a motor for this race, mentored Bob and his crew all afternoon and the car showed it on a track that was getting slick and mean. It was Leed, Ellertson (making up for that disastrous 2nd heat), Steve Conrad, Hobie Conway and Bruce Douglas advancing.

By the time the main event rolled around, the coastal marine layer was in full bloom with fingers of fog rolling across the ghostly halogen lighting. As the sprints are pushing off and filling the track, there is a comic yet tension filled episode as the pit crews scramble across the track to the infield with carts piled high with top heavy tires and supplies. It looks like a carnival shooting gallery as cars and crews try to dodge each other and track officials scratch their heads. It is almost midnight and all about me children are splayed out on the stands sleeping as their parents can’t bring themselves to leave. Up on the highway some big rig pulls long and hard on his air horn, prompting a roaring response from the crowd. Slowly, everybody gets to their places and as the cars pass two wide with one lap to start, the crowd is their feet shouting and showing their appreciation.

About 16,000 horse power roars to life and despite three restarts, it quickly becomes apparent that this is a slugfest between Murphy and Sheridan. Knopf and Suggs did their best to break it up, but this almost seemed personal. Templeton was stalking the front runners, but couldn’t get as close to either as he wished. I kept looking for Kierce who had been so strong at Hanford, but he was lost in the back. Trading the lead back and forth a few times, Murphy seemed to gaining momentum as they came into the 14th lap. At this point, Knopf went out with what appeared to be overheating and Kierce also dropped out for some mechanical problem. Templeman was still stalking as was Suggs and Miller.

For the last 15 laps, Murphy started to put some distance and lapped cars between Sheridan and himself. He delivered a textbook drive on a diamond hard slick, posting few if any errors. Sheridan found himself in the same position Murphy had in Hanford a week earlier; behind and desperately looking an opening. None was provided. On the last lap, someone spun out and we went yellow. They took twenty minutes to regroup, rounding up all the lapped cars and carefully replacing them between the two front runners. By the restart, there was so much trash between the two that Murphy made it look like a victory lap. Evan Suggs, a young and talented driver had scraped his way to third place.

It was clear cut victory for the Bandits as they showed the Ventura crew who owned this track. This is nice track, met a lot of nice people. We got our gear in the trailer and started the long drive back to Ventura.

It’s funny. When you get to the track, it’s all about winning. When you leave the track, it’s a lot different. If you won, that’s what counts. If you didn’t win, but you are driving the car back into the trailer, you tell yourself you had a good time. If you didn’t win and you have to drag the poor carcass back into the trailer, it means it didn’t go very well.

At four o’clock in the morning I slid into bed. My wife lifts her head and asks how the races were. Softly I say “it didn’t go very well”.

So when Saturday broke clear and hot in Ventura, we jumped in the truck, put on that outlaw country station and blew up to Hanford. About ten million cars thirty songs and 101 degrees later we pulled into Kings Speedway and I got my first look. Man, that’s a beautiful track. It’s as wide as an LA freeway with these sweet, enticing banked ends. They were laying water down and everything just looked all groomed and perfect. It kinda looked like a cool oasis in the middle of that blazing afternoon.

We hooked up with our crew and tried to stay in the shade. It was hot, not unbearable, but hot. I felt sorry for the drivers; it was a regular rapid weight loss plan. You could hear their boots squishing when they walked by.

Watching the time trials was a lot of fun. It’s great watching the drivers when they have the track to themselves. Clean lines and fast times. Wakim and Kierce were looking really fast. What else is new? Chris D’Arcy grabbed the fastest time with 16.137. Moon bounced hard on the back side of the berm. Greg Taylor never made it out of the trials, his engine was overheating and he decided he couldn’t race. Word filtered up into the stands that he was out. I felt held up, robbed and cheated and we hadn’t even started. It’s no race without Greg dicing it up. Like chips without salsa.

The heats were fun, Blake and Steve were standouts and you could see that the VRA and the bandits were evenly matched. The announcer was having a bit of a hard time. It was Chris Wakey, Kevin Kourse and a bunch of other characters I never heard of. Trust me, by the end of the evening, they had a couple of the names down real good.

The modifieds are a lot more fun to watch on a track like that, they can really open up and go. But I’m a sprint fan and finally they got to the main event.

By now the track was harder than superman’s elbow. The air had cooled to a pleasant summer evening. They finally got all the cars lined up (like herding cats). The June bugs were spinning lazily around the arc lights. It was a beautiful sight as those drivers filed double wide past the Kings Speedway sign in the backstretch with the American flag fluttering in the breeze. Hammer down.

At the beginning, it was rough as everybody was trying to figure out what worked. But most of the guys that got up front at the beginning stayed up front throughout the race. Greg Porte and Peter Murphy were running up there, along with Clark Templeman (nice to see Clark up front again), Wakim, Kierce and Miller. Miller charged hard a couple of times, but couldn’t sustain. Stansberry disappeared somewhere during the middle of the race. Wakim landed in somebody’s lap and had to go to the back at about lap 20.

Amazing that he started in the back at lap 20 and ended up fifth or sixth, depending on which newspaper you read.

But the real story this warm central valley night was Kevin Kierce. After watching Peter Murphy (fantastic driver) and Clark Templeman hold positions 1 and 2 for most of the race, Kevin got down and began putting the pressure on about lap 22 or so. By lap 27 he was in control and the crowd where I was sitting was going nuts. Didn’t matter who you pitted for, it was Kevin versus the Bandits and we were all screaming like kids. Murphy was desperately looking for a way to get back around him, but Kierce wasn’t having any of it. He was in total control (despite no brakes) as he smashed the checkered flag. It was just great driving. After the race, Murphy (in a very gracious and charming Australian brogue) commented that “things were going rather well, when where in the hell did this yellow car come from?!” Everyone was laughing at that.

After all that fun, we decided to head out and have a bit more. The chief criminal in our gang led us to a decidedly eclectic bar called The Cottage. It had the drunkest band I’ve ever heard, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everybody had some cold ones until finally the girls put their foot down and dragged us all up to dance. The evening ended with a well liked VRA driver tearing off his shirt and playing the bongos onstage with the band. As the owner was showing us out, he was muttering something about “outotowners”.

We trooped back into the Comfort Inn about 2:00 am looking for some well deserved rest. No sooner had we snuggled in than the fire alarm went off at 3:00 am. The strobe lights and siren worked real well. And just in case you didn’t get it, it went off again at 6 am. When I was checking out, I told the receptionist I wanted my money back. She patiently explained to me that although the fire alarm system had malfunctioned, it was there for our safety. I don’t think I properly thanked her.

Before leaving town, we scrambled around and found a nice little breakfast joint called Chubby’s. Over coffee and eggs, I cracked the sports page of the Hanford Sentinel, where the mid page headlines acknowledged “VRA driver takes top spot in Grand Slam race at Kings”. The writer went on to blithely describe how the VRA’s Joe Henderson captured the main event.

We were cracking up all the way back to Ventura County.

Way to go, Kevin.