Sept. 16, 2007
Bonneville to Reno
“Cars are recreational vehicles. Not just transportational. This is where cars are appreciated for what they truly are. These guys love their machines, and they respect them. I ride a bicycle every day to work so I can talk shit about cars if I want to. But when I do use cars, it’s with a great amount of respect for how much joy they can bring.” – J.T., lead mechanic / engineer, Stinkin’ Linkin crew
Mutt and J.T. wait with Andy as he lines up and gets ready to race. He got up to 162 on the second day but then spun out a little, so he had to re-prove himself in the lower speed categories again. Every other run hovered somewhere between 110-140. They didn’t want to push the car too hard, because unlike anyone else at Bonneville, they now have to drive their competition vehicle 2000 miles back home.
Andy suits up in full (hot! in the desert sun!) fire safety gear.
Every car has to purchase special racing fuel from the (smart as hell) fuel guy, and get their tank sealed and labeled.
Mutt and Zack (another integral mechanic on the Stinkin’ Linkin crew) watch as Andy gets the final go-ahead from a race official.
A page from Zack’s sketchbook. See what we mean? These dudes are touched by the hand of the Mechanical Gods.
On Saturday, the boys took a GPS speedometer out to the course and conducted their very own first annual World Tallbike Landspeed Record competition.
First place: Andy Overslaugh, representing Flanagan’s Pub, NOLA
Second place: Zack, representing Triumph of NOLA
Third place: Mutt, representing Black Label Bike Club (nowhere chapter)
Fourth place: J.T., representing Bienville Studios
Fifth place: Journalist guy from Zero to 60 Magazine, representing New York City
Before the World Tallbike Landspeed Record competition, they rolled the tallbike through the Tech Inspection tent — to the bemusement of old gearheads, who despite their years of tinkering with vehicles had never before seen such a low-tech marvel of engineering
On Friday, J.T. went through the driver’s safety course and took a run on the track himself. He gained a new-found respect for Andy’s driving abilities on the salt, which had become squirrelly and rutted and torn up after days of wear and tear. J.T. clocked in at a blistering 78 mph.
Twas quite poetic to take our own boat with two couches out on the ancient lakebed. As a fellow Royale owner once said: we don’t turn right; we turn STARBOARD.
This one’s for you, New Orleans.
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