Culled a few Bonneville photos from what we’ll run in our coverage in Hemmings Motor News in a coming month.
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I reserved a compact. Hertz gave me a Durango at the same price. I complained not one bit. And yes, I spent a good half hour power washing the underside before I handed the keys back.
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I probably spent half my time there ogling the hot rods that came just for the experience. Getting names and numbers was a hit-and-miss affair. I trailed several cars just to speak with their owners. Unfortunately, never found the owner of this Deuce-grilled A.
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And bikes! You couldn’t swing a dead cat and not hit a bike of some sort. Considering the distances involved (short course is five miles, long course is seven and the pits alone stretched 1.25 miles), many folks chose motorcycles for ambling about the flats.
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Alternative transportation choices abounded…
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And alternative push/pull rig choices came aplenty. I believe that’s Earl Edgerton’s Young Brothers Special behind that Plymouth.
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Cruising the lanes, it was hard to miss the E85-powered GM Racing Cobalt SS, which set a record of 156.073 mph in the G/FCC class. Sounded absolutely wicked and smelled like some vague corn byproduct.
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The JCB Diesel guys made some valiant attempts at the 300 mph mark, though I haven’t yet heard whether they made it. Need to get a radio for the next time I go, so I can hear the times as soon as they’re recorded. UPDATE: According to the SCTA-BNI website, the rig managed a two-way average of 317.021 mph, putting driver Andy Green in both the 200 MPH Club and the 300 MPH Club.
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And finally, the view from the sidelines of the seven-mile course. This is with my long lens fully zoomed in, and the car’s probably doing 175 at this point.
It’s hard to put into words how it feels to realize a lifelong dream. About as hard as it is to put into words the magnificence of Bonneville. Something you simply have to see and experience for yourself. I now see why guys go back year after year, slapping on gallons of sunscreen and subjecting their cars and bodies to the most insidious salt, even if they’re not behind the wheel of a 200 mph streamliner.
