Grand Diversions and Titillations: The Blog is taking a long weekend but don't go away

           

             Yessss, The Blog is taking off for the weekend with a hot tomato named Carmen. Won't be back until Tuesday.

 
          In the meantime there's a ton of goodies here. Yesterday's Blog, for example, if you missed Frank Lloyd Wright's last private house and his big mistake.

           And scroll down for the beauty of a blizzard in New York City the wacky wonderful Coneheads at Silverstone. Or the flip side of that madness to the days of dope and meditation in The Volvo Years.
         if you missed the all-time-record-breaking-hit- monster blog, The Real Allard Story:give it a click.  No, I lied; the tribute to the women who are as"sweet as honey and smile at you like you're made of money," attracted even more hits. And If you missed the 1979 Polish Grand Prix now's your chance.

Or, click on bob judd on the top of this page or slip down the right hand column to click on such gems as  my favorite, How You Look at the Sky.   Or The Kythera Chronicles to shake hands with Barbarossa.

Or just cruise through the links on the lower right hand side of this page, maybe come upon some unexpected little gem like  an excerpt from The Candle,  In Praise of the Belleville Midgets,  The Midgets of Belleville. Part II,  Truth in Grass: a Kansas adventure, The Story of the Larned Eagle Optic, Hollywood Calls, You Pick up the Phone, Hollywood Calls, you pick up the phone part 2 maybe my favorite My Short Happy War in Afghanistan or no, wait, wait, Fangio and the Maserati 250 F for the priceless video of Fangio in a polo shirt and helmet, absolutely relaxed driving a Maserati 250F around a beat up old race track with no run off, no barriers, no safety nothing.  My lunch with Rob Walkeris a good one even though it leaves out the Betty Grable stories. 

       You wouldn't want to miss My Short Happy War in Afghanistan

 

             Then there's Erno Goldfingers house-and-mine, which throws in Ian Flemming, no extra charge. Riding around Laguna Seca with Jackie Stewart was picked up by Jalopnik.com.

              Or Uncle John's Prayer.

               Or Clarence Judd Head-Butts a Truck.  Truck dies. That's a good one. 

             And, of course, the one that started it all, Truck Story.

               Then Virgin calls, and Forrest goes to Hollywood to star with an Electric car. And Forrest does a shoot in bed with Virgin. That one is a lot of fun. 

                Although, you might want to take a look at Pheromone Dreams to see what they are doing in bed in front of a film crew. While you're there it's just a short hop to Nurse Pelvis. 

            Or take a dip in the world's largest concrete freshwater free municipal swimming pool.

           And for a fine rainy afternoon divertimento, click on my dance with a prima ballerina.

 

              For a tasty bite with bon mots check out my friend, Gerry Freeman's foodie blog as  Hungry Gerald globe trots from spa to boites.

             Or go visit Elif Batumen, San Francisco's brightest and funniest writer, a fine lady to curl up with for a good read.  Here's Elif's homepage.

             Enjoy, Have a ball.  See you Monday, January 3.

The Blog is Taking the Weekend Off

The blog is off for the weekend, but don't go away.          

                                            

Click on bob judd on the top of this page or click on such gems as  my favorite, How You Look at the Sky. Or just cruise through, maybe come upon some unexpected little gem like an excerpt from The Candle,  In Praise of the Belleville Midgets,  The Midgets of Belleville. Part II,  Truth in Grass: a Kansas adventure, The Story of the Larned Eagle Optic, Hollywood Calls, You Pick up the Phone,
Hollywood Calls, you pick up the phone part 2 maybe my favorite My Short Happy War in Afghanistan or no, wait, wait, Fangio and the Maserati 250 F for the priceless video of Fangio in a polo shirt and helmet, absolutely relaxed driving a Maserati 250F around a beat up old race track with no run off, no barriers, no safety nothing.  My lunch with Rob Walkeris a good one even though it leaves out the Betty Grable stories. Then there's Erno Goldfingers house-and-mine, which throws in Ian Flemming, no extra charge. Riding around Laguna Seca with Jackie Stewart was picked up by Jalopnik.com.
              Or Uncle John's Prayer
             And, of course, the one that started it all, Truck Story 
             Or go visit Elif Batumen, San Francisco's brightest and funniest writer, a fine lady to curl up with for a good read.  Here's Elif's homepage.
             Enjoy, Have a ball.  Bob 

The Beast and Beauty of Belleville. Report from the middle of America, Part 2

Rare photo of a midget in mid air.  This one by Michael Harders  is of Keith Hutton who did not survive.

           Photographs don't give you the sudden silence, the intake of air when the car is in the air, the powerful hope that it will all be OK.  That the kid will come out of it waving and smiling.  

             And the photos of the cars on the track racing wheel to wheel are so tame compared to the spectacle, the barely controlled violence, the graceful curves of the cars forced to turn left, the left inside wheel a foot off the ground, waving playfully to the infield. 

             Even the videos don't begin to make the spectacle come alive.  The little cars seem so safe and so distant in the rectangle of your screen. Video makes you look down the tube where the camera points when it's all happening everywhere at once.  Video doesn't give you the rumble in the ground, the heat and passion of the beasts and the naked danger of the wheels that act like gears, flinging the cars into the sky if they touch.  

             Let's give words a chance:

            The sun is down, there’s a full moon rising over Rocky Pond, and 25 cars go by the front stands behind the pace car in rows four wide, and the fans are standing, cheering. Now the cars are two by two and the pace call pulls off. Fireworks boom in the night sky, the green flag waves and the cars explode with fury.  It’s a swarm of Super Size Killer Bees on Wheels; trying to keep your eye on any one car is almost impossible.  Chaos, thunder, clouds of smoke, and one car, Bobby East, starting fourth, slingshots up high and takes the lead going into the first turn. They come through the turn one again, arms working, spewing up rooster tails of dirt, inside front wheels off the ground, waving back and forth helplessly.  You know how they say in road racing, you have to commit to a turn.  Here you are always in a turn.  You are always committed.  Always out there on the edge.  And always on the throttle. Cars are diving high, low, and they are all flat out, sliding, inches from each other, a fury and a catastrophe about to happen. There is more passing in the first two laps than in a season of Formula One.  Two laps go by before you have time to take a breath.

Ron Gregory, right side up.

         Lap 28, Ron Gregory, 21, (good looking blonde kid from Noblesville, Indiana, 2002 Midget Rookie of the year, got his first USAC National Midget Car feature victory last week in Indianapolis,) is running mid pack when Car #2 got out of shape in front of him and Gregory had nowhere to go.  They touch wheels and Gregory’s  yellow car vaults into the air, ten feet over the rail, end over end and disappears.  

         Amazingly the car landed on its wheels in the soft grass at the bottom of the ten foot high banking before rolling one more time and stopping against a chain link fence. And Gregory said, “what a hell of a ride.” 

           It was Bobby East’s night.  Where the other cars were scrabbling around the turns, he was smooth and too fast to catch.  East who won Friday night too, was as smooth and relaxed on the podium (on the right with

Shawna, Miss National Midget Racing) as he was on the track.  His $12,500 check was signed by the ‘Fair Amusement Committee.’  

Stephanie and her proud Dad at Belleville 2004

            That was the night 16 year old Stephanie Mockler (who won the Ford Focus Feature the week before at the Indianapolis Speedrome, making her youngest woman ever to win a USAC race) gave as good as she got, read the short Ford Focus track like an open book and stayed calm while other drivers were going nuts all around her.  She finished third and you thought she could be the next Maria Andretti.  A long shot, sure. But if you want a fresh look at what racing is really about, and see the stars before they get too big to get next to, go on down to your local friendly Midget race real soon. Better yet, go to Belleville.

Monaco, Spa, LeMans, Indy, and Belleville. Yes, Belleville, Kansas is one of the world's greatest race tracks

 

                  Saturday night, the sun is sinking into the prairie and a full moon is coming up behind the trees around Rocky Pond. Race time. Belleville, a sleepy Kansas farm town of 3,000 has grown to 30,000 for the Belleville Midget Nationals. (click on link for video)

          The cars circle slowly around the track and park in front of the stands, leaving the engines running, thumping on idle like drum beats, raising the pulse and the expectation of racing.  All these guys, their owners and crews are all doing it for the love of racing.  Nobody makes any money at it.  “Maybe some new guy thinks he can make money doin’ this,” an old-timer says. “You better get to him quick before he learns better.”

This is not about money, this is about racing.  Pay attention.

Belleville Cuisine 2004

              Mario Andretti drove Midgets.  So did AJ.  Tony Stewart drives Midgets. Jeff Gordon was the 1990 USAC Midget champ.  Ryan Newman, Bobby Unser, Roger Ward, Jimmy Vasser, Parnelli Jones, Kasey Kahne, they all drove Midgets

              53 Cars show up for Saturday night, the best Midget racers in the country. And they all tell you this is the track; the fastest, the trickiest and the best to win

               The fans have come from all over the country, but most are from the middle of America, states like Indiana, Idaho, Iowa, Nebraska, Ohio, Kansas, Oklahoma and the Dakotas.  Around 30 Australians came over with Ozzie Midget drivers, Adam Clarke and Nathan Smee. 

Adam Clarke (couldn't find a pic of his pit crew in Spandex)

                          

The crowd awards Clarke best looking driver because Adam lines up with four gorgeous Australian blondes in skimpy orange spandex. The drivers toss autographed Frisbees into the crowd and the fans dive for them.

                     Speaking of fans, here’s a tip.  Hang onto the lid of your cup of soda or beer; it’s handy for keeping out the flying mud and grit.  (Drink your beer, sweetie, before it gets dirty.) Here’s another tip I picked up in the stands when a cell phone went off.  “I got a remedy for that,” a Kansas farmer said, “just a couple drops of Bud and that phone won’t rang (sic) again tonight.”
  
                The Belleville Jazz Ensemble (aka The Belleville high school band) cranks up a weird and wonderful combo of rah rah football music mixed with saxophone jazz, and you know good stuff is about to happen.

                   What you do when you race a midget (you can win this one)is wrap your knees around 350 horsepower and stomp the throttle.  While all around you a whole bunch of other crazy, fearless racers with their knees wrapped around 350 horsepower stomp on their throttles. This is pure, raw, butt to the wall, grass roots racing

                    Belleville is the world’s oldest and fastest banked half mile dirt oval. 

The clay is so sticky it’ll pull your shoes off. Except for a 30 yard straight, it’s a perfect circle. Midgets, with no wings and the aerodynamics of a buffalo can take the high 5/8s of a mile flat and they are almost always sliding, back end hanging out, pedal squashed to the metal.
 
                 Here’s how pure the racing is. There are no pit stops. No test drivers.  No mirrors. No media centers. No Press Officers. No fins.  No wings. No clutch. No Transmission. No starter motor. No marketing plan. No independent suspensions.  No carbon fiber chassis or brakes. No push to pass buttons. No on-board computers. No turbos. No pit to car radios. No traction control.  No aerodynamic devices. If these cars were pared down any more they wouldn’t have wheels

               You sit bolt upright.  And mostly you look down the track over your right shoulder. The right pedal is go, the left is stop.  The strategy is pass everybody and don’t hit anything.  

                 The cars weigh a minimum 900 lbs. without the driver.  The chassis is tubular aircraft steel and the driver sits inside a roll cage.  Most engines are 166 cu in. 4 cylinder,  325 to 350 horsepower.  The cars are about ten feet long with the wheelbase running from a wee 66 to 76 inches and width limited to 65 inches.  Which is how they fit three and four wide in the banked turns
           
              Longevity counts.  Two crew guys, looking old as crocodiles, watch qualifying from inside turn two.  About halfway into the session they jump back from the fence, pick up wrenches with 5 foot long handles and swap the rear tires on their Midget. Something they saw out there made them go for a harder compound, but they won’t say what.  Because the cars haven’t changed much for the past 80 years there are several Grandfather, father and son teams, passing down the secrets from generation to generation. 

                                  

                               

   Ask Mario Andretti about his Midget days, and he just grins like the kid he was.  “I was so fortunate.  I learned everything I needed to know in Midgets to launch me in my career." 

"I mean everybody who was anybody was at Belleville, and they had their best cars ready to go there. It was a great race for me to win. I was on a tear there, running wide open and jumping the cushion and never lifting. I never stopped racing like that until the checkered flag flew." - Jeff Gordon


(to be continued tomorrow)

Truth in Grass, a Kansas Adventure

        Our previous blog, drew a nice mash note from Cheryl Unruh in Kansas.  (Cheryl and her brother used to work on the Larned, Kansas Tiller & Toiler. Now she writes a blog Flyover People, Life on the Ground in a Rectangular State.)

       Her note brought back a glorious afternoon in the tall grass. 
       I'd done a piece on the Belleville Midget Nationals  for Road & Track ("The Edge of the Track is in the Sky"), and we thought, let's see what there is to see in Kansas.  My parents grew up in Kansas and I've always felt at home under those spacious skies. Let's see what's left of the tallgrass prairie. (click on pictures to enlarge)

click to enlarge to see the form of the prairie.  The landscape is very dark, but also,very beautiful.

"Tallgrass prairie once covered 140 million acres of North America. Within a generation the vast majority was developed and plowed under. Today less than 4% remains, mostly here in the Kansas Flint Hills. The preserve protects a nationally significant remnant of the once vast tallgrass prairie and its cultural resources. Here the tallgrass prairie takes its last stand." 

We stayed in Cottowood Falls, at the Grand Central Hotel where they served martinis the size of goldfish bowls.

Kathryn talked to Jane Kroger who runs a 4,000 acre ranch off the grid.  Jane calls her ranch The Republic of Grass.


Not all adventures are about speed and risk.  Go stand in that remnant of the prairie that was an ocean of grass from Texas to Sasketchuan. Watch the wind roll across the prairie in waves, the swallows skitter through the sky, and feel time slow down bit by bit until you can feel the centuries that have come before.  This is time travel.  You can go forward or back.  You can feel the grandeur of the curve of the earth and the passage of your moment in time.  Fasten your seatbelt.  You could lose your sense of importance.


We'll let the pictures tell the rest of the story. (click on pictures to enlarge)