Keith Law's complete TALES FROM THE GREAT ROLLING DYNO

[bertvorgon]

I'm throwing this story in, after NICKELDIMEME reminded me of the infamous 4 x4 trip the 510 club did, with almost disatrous results for one of our members....

TALES FROM THE GREAT ROLLING DYNO


Where to start, what to write about? The club has gone through a major change this past year. People have moved on to another phase of their lives. It’s too bad we all did not come together at the same time in our lives. Oh well, I’m just feeling nostalgic for the “old days.” I could bore you with tales of my summer holidays, but I promised someone I would not do that. After all, this is supposed to be a motor sport oriented newsletter.
As I had some serious fears for my job in the spring ( and no one GAVE me a set of race tires) I had to pass on running Knox Mountain Hillclimb. There was a big group of us that went to watch, and… for three of us….. Mountain Bike! Sean, Matt and I rode our bikes around for the weekend and watched the racing from various parts on the hill. Lots of faster times this year and no major mishaps.
I promised Sean I would give him a ride in the Datsun before he left for England. I wanted to do a couple of events over the summer and thought this would be a good shake down for the car. We lucked out on some clear traffic on the #91 connector and, suffice to say, we were able to accomplish some truly spectacular speeds and acceleration runs.. I hope Sean is able to write about his impressions, especially now that he has had some exposure to some serious rally cars in England.
When I was at Knox I was talking to Roger from the Chuckanut Sports Car Club, from down in Bellingham. He mentioned that they were planning on a street race in Blaine. I asked, if possible, could I get an invite. Two weeks later, sitting on my fax machine, was an invite. Great, this should be fun!
The day of the race dawned the proverbial sunny day. I had changed the jet size on my inter-cooler spray and was looking forward to testing it out. I got some nice small ice cubes to add to the water tank. The course was very fast and actually flowed quite well. It was about 1 mile long in an industrial complex. As I approached the start line I started the water spray. I figured as long as no one thought I had a water leak, I could just keep pouring the water to ‘er. Guess what? Yup, they thought the Datsun had the major water leak. O.K. no problem. I promised I would not wet the track down. But hey, the discharge air temp INTO the engine was 68 F.! I also found out how rusty I was at the slalom. Like anything…..You need lots of practice. I got my time down to a competitive one, but kept getting tricked by a break in the pavement that kept kicking the rear of the car out. RATS! Each time it did that I hit the SAME two cones. $%##*&%!! Oh well, the sprayer worked, even if the driver did not.
Last year, at the Nissan Show & Shine, I had a nice relaxing day. I planned to do the 1999 show. When I got the entry form, to my surprise, was a slalom planned for the Saturday at Boundry Bay. That should be really fun. A small entry, and potentially, lots of runs. Just pray for SUN. Did we luck out on a beautiful day, not to hot, and even more so, not too windy. Dave Doan, Don Nimi, Kevin Dundass and myself, made up the 510 group out of 33 competitors. The course turned out to be surprisingly fast! I was in the top of third gear and THINKING of fourth. It had a very fast slalom that you absolutely had to enter correctly, or you would never catch up with the car. It took me till my eighth run to get it right. Kevin was just flying and kept me on my toes. Kevin had “spent the coin” on a good set of R-25 Hoosiers, and had the stick and time to prove it. I wonder what a set of those on my car would be like? I almost think they would be too soft for that surface at Boundry Bay. Dave suffered a fuel starvation problem that was not fixed till he got home. Junk in the fuel filter! Don was on a set of 032R’s and set a very good time for his day. The event was just great for all the people involved; everyone drove with their heads on. It is always good when someone is watching your car (and driving) during your run. Don was manning the start box during my runs and commented on the bog I had leaving the line. I was afraid of launching too hard and hurting the drive train. You really hook up on that old concrete surface. I decided to go to the other extreme and just leave the line with lots of boost on my last run, thus eliminating any bog. 16 LBS and a good entry into the slalom got me a good time and a very smooth run. Thanks Don!
The SHOW & SHINE on Sunday was another success. Not as many 510’s as last year. Art Hughes and company had done a great job in organizing and set up. Thanks Art.
The Datsuns’ put away for another winter. Hopefully we all may get together again for a track day or some Solo’s. I have some secret projects to work on; the Skunk Works will be busy,…..and Bert Vorgon is working on a new project.

*******************************

Matt, my brother Kim, and I, had an epic bike ride planned for the weekend of September 18 & 19. Unfortunately, my brother had to cancel at the last minute. For safety reasons Matt and I could not go ourselves. This left the weekend free to go on Noel and Sandy’s four-wheel drive trip.
In light of what happened on the trip, I would like to thank Noel for what I consider an act of compassion and heroism.
Matt and I arrived at Noel’s on Friday night. Gary and Jason were already there. The plan was to leave early in the morning, have breakfast in Whistler, then travel up the Hurly Pass, then 4X4 to Mud Lakes and beyond. Noel had procured a little GM Tracker for Matt and I to use. It turned out to be just fine for the weekend. You know it is small when all my fairly compact camping gear, that was in my Toyota Corolla, fills the Tracker! HHMMM. Meeting us in the morning was Jamie and his two boys, Tyler and Luke, Paul Bunbury and his two daughters, two other friends of Noel and Sandy, Dave and Mark.. Topping this crew was Scott Ratray. Jamie had brought three dirt bike motorcycles and Scott had this four-wheeled screamer called a Banshee.
The next plan is to stop at the base of the Hurly Pass. There Scott will abandon his truck and ride the Banshee to Bralorne. Soon we are off in a cloud of dust, and I mean clouds! The roads are really dry with all that nice September weather. Mat and I just cruising along, I'm watching the mirror, ready for Scott to come blazing up behind me. Sure enough, he materializes RIGHT BESIDE ME! Also at this instant….is a right hand hairpin turn. I turn and Scot goes by…STRAIGHT AHEAD….into the dust. I thought he was going to auger in for sure. Nope, he gets it hauled down, turns, and passes me just as I am starting to finish my turn, grabbing gears the whole way. Wow.
After about an hour we arrived at the junction of the GoldBridge/Bralorne roads. We decide to head up to a small lake in the mountains to have lunch. Scott decides to follow us just a little bit longer, then turn around and ride back to Pemberton meadows and his truck.. Finally, we get to a point where we THINK the four wheeling is to start
Noel blazes ahead, to check it out. After ten minutes the radio lights up with Noel saying this looks like it, but the Tracker might not make it. WWHATT!!! The gauntlet is thrown, besides….it’s a rental! After using both feet to get the transfer case into low range, off we go. I can hear the under side protesting. This thing really needs more ground clearance. I decide that the best way is to get the left side up on this ridge of dirt, getting as much clearance as possible. Hey that’s better. After fifteen minutes we come upon Noel. Off we go on what appears to be the original Mud Lake trail. Ten minutes later we come upon another logging road! Rats. The whole area has been logged. When my brother and I last came through here, it was still wilderness. The mud was up to the axles on his Toyota Landcruiser and it went on for MILES and MILES and MILES. It took him and I a whole afternoon to go what just took us an hour. We arrived at Mud Lakes at about 2:30. There were some people about so, after a brief conflab, we decided to head for the Meadows and the high country. We did not think it was appropriate to wreck some one else’s camping experience with the sound of motorcycles and my .22 cal. blazing away. Now we started to climb up out of the valley on some really STEEP trail. This is FUN. Matt had been asking me if he could drive on this trip and I gladly let the fourteen-year-old have his dream. He did a great job. Scared the hell out of me, on one very steep descent though. I’m not a great passenger at the best of times. As we started down I realized we were committed ( no stopping and switching places) to the bottom. Imagine a trail, just the width of a vehicle, with a trench worn into it about two feet deep. The Tracker is quite narrow so I told Matt to stay on one side, not wanting to drop into the trench and either get hung up, or, damage the bottom of the truck. We were on the right side of the trail when we started to slide. It was so steep that gravity, and the very loose surface, took over control. I started giving Matt instructions….VERY FAST, as to what I thought he should do. At this point we are sliding down, and heading off into the trees. As we slid, he had the presence of mind to steer with it, use some deft left foot braking, then hook left and traverse across the trench. WE WERE SAVED! Died a thousand deaths let me tell you. I had no steering wheel or brake pedal. Hopefully the rental people do not see the impression of my foot in the firewall.
On we went through some small creek crossings with no further drama. People were starting to get tired and it became apparent we had better find a place to camp soon. The top of a ridge looked like a nice place to set up on. A three hundred and sixty-degree view is pretty hard to pass up, Poison Mountain is straight across the valley from us. The weather was looking good and we gambled that the wind would not be bad. Exposed ridges are not the best place to camp in changing weather.
We all started to set up our camp, get a fire going, and prepare for some great steaks on the fire. Jamie and the boys rolled the dirt bikes off the truck and started to get the boys organized for some riding. One of the bikes had carburetor problems, which turned out to be a dead float. Soon Matt and I were enjoying our steak dinner. As I was sitting down I noticed Jamie leave for another test ride on his bike. After about half an hour Jamie was still not back, I’m thinking he rode to the meadow to see if there was any water. About ten minutes later I see Jamie; covered in what I think is dirt, being followed by another dirt bike rider. As Jamie stops and gets off his bike, I realize it is dried blood on him and his face is looking none too good. The short story has Jamie having a head on collision with this other fellow on a slight, but tree masked corner. Jamie is unconscious for what the other fellow says was about half an hour. I cannot imagine what that fellow must have felt, out there in the MIDDLE OF NO WHERE. Some how, when Jamie regains consciousness, he has both the strength, and still retains where WE ARE. At this point Jamie has a full concussion and is stuck in a loop, asking the same four or five questions over and over again. Having suffered a concussion and two days of amnesia, when I was twenty-two, I can see this is really serious. He was still bleeding from the nose and the side of his face was starting to swell in a major fashion we all saw right away the need to get him to the hospital. Lilloet was two to three hours away. Noel immediately says he will take Jamie. Noel’s Toyota was best set up to go FAST on the gravel road, and as it was getting dark, had a huge array of awesome lights on the front bumper. Gary and Jason will follow Noel down to the good logging road, then, come back. It was decided that once on the gravel Noel would leave any of us literally in the dust. One can only imagine what Noels’ trip must have been like. Concussions can have serious if not deadly consequences. It is a LONG way to Lilloet from where we were on the top of that mountain. I tip my hat to you Noel!
Meanwhile, after Noel left with Jamie, we did our best to clean up camp and be ready for an early start the next day. We were going to head to the hospital in Lilloet to check on Jamie.
The night was spectacular, NO BUGS, stars from horizon to horizon, and it stayed quite warm, even though we are at 6,000 ft..
We broke camp early, loaded the motorcycles, and headed out to the Yalokom River. We stopped at an old drilling camp and checked out some old drill core samples. There were some nice mineral specimens there. From there we hit the logging road and cruised down to the Bridge River, then on to Lilloet. I let Matt drive on the logging road, I think he is still grinning from ear to ear. He only scared me once, understeering into gravel on a turn. We survived…..He learned!
Arriving at the hospital we found no Jamie or Noel. Seems they checked him out for spinal damage then sent him on by ambulance to Kamloops. Noel followed the ambulance up.
We then decided to split up and go our separate ways. Matt and I headed back the Duffy Lake road. Jason drove Jamie’s truck and the boys back down the Canyon to Mission.
Matt and I had a great drive back, even showing an old MG how to corner. Jamie will be hurting for awhile, and definitely a little wiser.

Keith Law Oct.1,1999

P.S. As of the week of September 27, there is now 8CM. Of snow on the Poison Mnt.
Road.

[bertvorgon]

and now for something completely different. The story speaks for itself. One or 2 of the Benz's survive to this day, if I remember correctly.





TALES FROM THE GREAT ROLLING DYNO


THE EARLY, EARLY YEARS



Back in the fall, while doing some research for my good friend Evan, I ran across some interesting bits of history, regarding some early forms of motor sport in British Columbia. My friend Evan, is a collector of WW 1 militaria, and, along with that sometimes comes the ephemera that goes with it. In this particular case, a post card came with an old photo album from 1913, showing scenes from Vancouver and surroundings.
This postcard required some research as to who the character was in it, and, through that, I learned of some other noteworthy things that happened in early B.C.’s motoring history.
In 1909, in Richmond, B.C., the 1 mile Minoru Horse Race Track was built. Minoru was the name of the horse owned by King Edward VII, that won a famous horse race. Like any modern facility today, it also was used for other venues. Car racing, speed trials, auto-polo, and death defying flying demonstrations, fitting the bill.
The post card in front of me, is one of the mighty, MERCEDES “BLITZEN BENZ” #2 Chassis, at the Minoru race track on July 26th, 1913. It has just set the Canadian record for the 1 mile at 50 4/5 seconds. It is driven by Bob Burman, known as the “SPEED KING”. Bob also set a top speed record with the car, in 1911 of 228.1 KM/hour that held until 1924. At this time, it was TWICE the speed that aircraft of the time were capable of flying. As it turns out, Bob and the “BLITZEN” were part of a travelling car circus, going to local tracks to put on demonstrations and try to break records. During this research, I found out that the great BARNEY OLDFIELD also came up to Minoru to compete, in 1912. Both drivers ran various cars at Indianapolis Motor Speedway in those early heydays. They would come up the coast, stopping in Seattle, then on to Vancouver, Calgary, Edmonton, Winnipeg, and beyond. The races either involved the speed trials, or 10 mile, free-for-all, heats. Controversy rained on the July 25-26, 1913 weekend, during one of the heat races. One of the drivers from Seattle was quoted as saying they were instructed to let Burman pass, for the win. This was blatant hippodroming! In July, 1914, an interesting car that showed up was the Curtiss Aircraft powered homebuilt, the ROMANO SPECIAL. This same car won the Pikes Peak Hill climb in 1916. At Minoru it did the mile in 601/2 seconds, and won the 10 mile free-for-all.
The Blitzen Benz was a monster (Blitzen means lightning in German). It was a chain driven 21,500 C.C. motor producing 200 HP@1,600 RPM, and….713 Foot Pounds of Torque! The bore was 7.3” and the stroke was 7.9”. That’s 5.375 litres per cylinder! The car weighed 3,527 LBS. Kind of makes our motors pale in comparison.
The other form of “Motor Sport” that was big during this time, was that of AUTO POLO. The picture basically says it all. Strip the body work off, put on a platform and handrail for the mallet man, and you’re in. In the photo album, there are some pictures of these cars lined up and ready to go at Minoru. Safety was not an issue. Imagine trying that today with liability issues, Ha! This sport carried on into the forties, with the final evolution being the caged cars, and the giant ball. It died out after the Second World War.
The other “sport” done at Minoru was that of the thrill seeking, crowd pleasing flyers. Flight was in its infancy then, and most people had no idea that planes could glide, and do some of the things they did. One of the biggest crowd gaspers, was, the flyer would take the plane up to 1,500 ft., then kill the engine, and put it into a dive. The crowd was known to have strong women faint, and men cry out. At the last moment of course, the pilot would pull out, and then re-start the motor. It was reported that occasionally, the pilot would misjudge, and auger in, usually killing himself!
I hope that you found this interesting, that some of the most famous of the early drivers and cars came and visited British Columbia.

Keith Law
February 26, 2006

[bertvorgon]

couple more...

[bertvorgon]

Where Bert Vorgon came from...snicker....snicker......only the locals will remember this



BERT VORGON BRAKE SYSTEMS
#510-015 LAKE BULLSHITSKI DRIVE
STOPFASTKI, N. SIBERIA
00PL510-2DR73
APRIL 1,1997

Greetings from Lake Bullshitski!!!

How are you Comrade Gary? I hope you have had a productive winterski gettingk the Yellow Bomber ready for combat. We have herd rumors over here of all the thinks that you are doink in your garage. As a matter of fact we even had the smell of Bondo waftingk over the North Pole. Maybe somebody buldink fender flares? I guess all the 510 club members are gettingk ready for that Knoxski Hillclimbski, eh! Our KGB have been tryingk to find out what everbodie is doinsk, but, most doors are locked. They (the KGB) say it is due to someone spying outs a 3" stainless exhaustski system on 510 in a race shopski in New Westminsters. Heard anything about that? Seems that fellowsk has been up to know goodski all winter! I thinks all you 510skis are tricky buggerskis!
Hey, hows your son doink on that Dodge Coltski? We heard it is pretty trickski and should bee pretty fast. Still have to be some thing to beat the old Ladaski!! HAHA.
Speakink of the ole' Lada, Rimski finally did it in. Over the winter he decided he needed to upgrade the wiring, etc. on the Vorgon Decelerator. He accomplished that with only one small fire. After the modification he decided to try some new brake padskis. Seems he was reading a magazinski sent to him by a Mr. Gadget. It had all sorts of neat stuffski on those Nascar guys, and, some infoski on Carbon Fiberski Padskis! Well, Rimski thought those sounded far outski !! Two weeks later he had a set, specially made, for the Lada. Off he went, thundering along Lake Bullshitski, on one of his fast, scenic tourskis. About twenty minutes later, I heard a horrendous explosion from the far end of Lake Bullshitski. Upon examinink the wreckage, it seems Rimski should have had a proper fuel cellski in the car. The tremendous deceleration ripped the fuel tank out of the rusty ( lots of saltski used in the Motherland) frame! The fuel tank plowed forward, through the passengerski compartment. On it's way forward, it ripped out the Vorgon Decelerator. When the wires were ripped out, they triggered the explosion. The roofski of the Lada was missingk! After much searching it has been determined that Rimski was blown BACKSKI into Lake Bullshitski, again!! Hopefully he filled the air tankskis in the survival capsule. Bad part about this is that our goverment insuranski will not pay for repairskis. I bet yours would.

Good Newsski! Things are very bads here so I have decided to moves to your good city. It sounds like you all have lots of funski on hikes, meetingks, and testingks my brakes out. I have applied for a jobski with a little company in a place called Lankley, or Langsleyski, or somethink like that. I have lots of experience in lights, after workingk on the drivingk lights on the Lada. I might even have my own office, with my own name plate on my desk, wow! I hope it all works outski.
I must press on, as the mail delivery is goingk to be very early today. Best of luck in the 97' race season, and hopefully, we may all get to test our Decelerators out together. I would like to go on one of your Scenic Lake tours.

Best Regards,


Bert Vorgon Decelerators, Inc.

[bertvorgon]

Everybody should have their news letters by now...so here is the story of Octoberfast

It also turned out that I did NOT kill my battery, just took the battery maintainer awhile to pull it back up.





TALES FROM THE GREAT ROLLING DYNO

OCTOBERFAST 2009


OctoberFast lived up to its name this year! I think we had one of the highest average cruising speeds, for the whole trip.
When Byron and I decided we would try doing the Duffy lake route, it was with some concern that if we did not get going early, it would just be another lesson in traffic frustration. With that in mind, I resolved myself to keep everybody moving, specially to hit the new Sea to Sky as early as possible. With the millions of dollars now spent on that thing, I wanted to actually be able to run it with NO traffic. To that end, we did manage to leave the plant at 5:30 sharp! Thanks guys!
On the way to the rally point in West Van, James and I had a good go, going up the Cut. He keeps throwing gauntlets out, as he keeps fine tuning his turbo monster. As we accelerated up the hill, his engine gave an almighty backfire, with a huge cloud of black smoke out the pipe. Matt thought he ran over something for a second. Lean back fire maybe?
Arriving at Westview, it did not take long for everyone else to arrive, 8 x 510’s, and one very nice BMW 2002TI. We left in the proverbial cloud of dust and acceleration, hitting the new highway about 6:30, with virtually no traffic. It was so nice, after so many years of traffic tie ups due to the construction, to be able to just drive right though.
We stopped at the Squamish Chevron, for some to fuel up, and Byron adjusted a headlight down, which had been blindingly bright. We agreed to motor right on through to Pemberton, and rally up at the Esso station. It was now light out, and the day was dawning to be clear as could be…and COLD.
Just outside of Pemberton, are a couple of very sharp, uphill hairpin corners. With Byron in my mirror, I of course tossed the car in quite hard, being ever mindful, that the pavement and tires were very cold! Now, stepping back for a second, let me tell you about my trunk. As on any of these trips, we all have whatever spares, tools, etc, that we bring along. In my case, I had two, 1.2 litre bottles of my fuel additive, in a small open box, with some of my other bits and pieces. So, as I set the car up and toss it in, Matt and I hear a THUNK….THUNK……Oh, CRAP..I know what has happened!!!! The extreme g force has caused the two bottles to rocket across my trunk, to the other side. Knowing the gas station is but a few minutes down the road, I’m thinking to myself,
“It will be OK, It will be ok!!”
Immediately upon stopping, I bail out and open the trunk. Sure enough, the two bottles have gone to the other side of the trunk, along with all the other bits in the box. OK…Rule #1…NEVER… put your snack bag in the same area as extremely toxic chemicals! Sure as hell, one of the lids leaked slightly, covering everything on that side of the trunk with a wonderful wash of pink death! Crap! It also ate the carpet in the bottom of my spare tire well, ate the plastic end case on my electric tire pump, and generally wetted everything in that area. Double crap! The fumes have now filled the car also…turning the 510 passenger area into a gas chamber. After much wiping, throwing out, etc, we managed to get it reasonably clean, and the bottles jammed lower in the trunk. At the same time I was cleaning my trunk, Jason’s hood was up, dealing with a bypassing clutch master.
The day has now exploded into a wonderful display of fall colours, with the contrast of a very blue, clear sky. The plan is to blast straight through to Lillooet, 100 KM of one of the best twisty roads in B.C.. One of the other reasons we had decided to run this, was that there is a new section, half the route, that has been freshly paved! Billiard ball smooth as they say. Oh, did I mention the cold! The ambient temp, as we went through Whistler, kept dropping. I was hoping that the air was really dry, so that we would have no chance of frost or black ice on the route. The climb out of the valley is very steep, and in the shade for most of the day, this time of year. I noticed that my water temp was staying at exactly what my thermostat is, 160F.! The air intake to my engine kept dropping also.
Matt and I led the convoy out of town, coming around one corner through the Native land, almost into some horses that were on the road. Seems every trip we do, we have some run in with animals.
Originally, I was going to stop just before the climb, to turn on the GOPRO camera. I thought there was a pull out at the bottom of the hill, at the lake. There was not, so off we went. The climb got us into the cornering rhythm, up through the gears, down through the gears, a bit of boost……
Getting near the top, I realized this was too good not to have on video. We whipped of to the side of the road, on the left. I jumped out to mount the camera, and we waved everyone by. So, now we are at the end of the chain of cars. It did not take us long to catch up to Gordon, who was on the bumper of some civilian, at a pace that was far from fun. The rest of the group must have gotten by him at one of the rare passing zones. After what seemed like forever, Gordon waved me by, knowing I would be rocketing at the first chance we got. I caught up to Kevin, who was giving it as usual, the rest of the group were still well ahead. Occasionally I could see the others winding through the corners. The road was dry, and my intake air temp had dropped to 31F., this is what is actually going through the carb at this point! We caught up the group as a whole, with James and Byron in the lead, really carving the corners. This is where a corner is a great equalizer, as we all have the same laws of physics to deal with. Our three cars are very close in handling, so it took me awhile to catch up to them, after getting by the group. The acceleration chutes between corners are very short, so my power advantage was really minimized. What fun we had! Coming down one small chute, we could see a blue haze in the air, hovering over a single black tire mark, looking suspiciously like a Yokohama 032R, soft compound at 32 PSI….HA! Sure enough, it was Byron, going in hot, downhill, decreasing radius corner. In a few seconds we had finally caught up to James and Byron, just before the last big set of downhill switch backs to Lillooet. Matt kept warning me of a very bad dip in one of the corners, that he had encountered during his camping trip last summer. I kept saying the WHOLE road was dips, heaves, broken sections, cracks…..The fact that our cars works so well on this stuff, is a testament to well sorted suspensions.
We regrouped at the Seton Lake Lookout, where the cold air really chilled us down. Considering that my air intake was 31F, after going through the turbo, says it was well below freezing. It felt like it. Byron gets hero award for not having a heater…although the thoughts of driving with ski mitts on escapes me. Again, I was glad I never ripped mine out, as I came so very close to doing so.
After the obligatory photo op, we entered Lillooet, which was now in the sun, looking for the A&W, for some hot coffee and lunch.
Lunch was the usual bench race session, with Merlin meeting us there. We were very much on schedule, and he planned to follow us down the next stretch to home.
Off we went again into the glorious sun, the red and golden colours highlighting the dry, desert area. The section from Lillooet to Lytton was run with no holdups at all, just a nice steady cruise. I think we ran this at about 70+ miles and hour the whole way. We regrouped in Lytton, with me doing a quick plug check, as I have been messing with some things! It was Byron’s turn this time, to get the rock chip on his windshield
Hitting the #1, we came upon a new Mustang, who looked like he wanted to take a run at us. As Matt and I got to the first corner, and never lifted, I could tell that he was not comfortable at those speeds through the corners. That was the last we ever saw of him.

We had decided to stop at the old Alexandra Bridge, for a leg stretch. This second version of the bridge, was built in 1926, and was the only route up the Canyon. It was built by the Royal Engineers, for the gold seekers. I even traveled over it in the early sixties! It has long been abandoned, and is now a park. It is as scenic as can be, and provided a nice break from the pace of the drive.
The last part of the drive was pretty busy, as we followed the group down the north side of the river. I just about got taken out by a guy in a minivan, who never did a mirror check! I did a big rant about this on the 510 Realm site, so enough said. As Matt said, he felt more comfortable at 80 MPH with our group, through the twisty’s, than driving in the mix of Saturday afternoon idiots!
We bailed over to Abbottsford, and ran #10 home. I used a litre of methanol, and used almost 2 tanks of fuel, averaging 23 MPG for the whole trip, of about 365+ miles. We left the plant at 5:30 AM, and we pulled into the plant at 5:30 PM, a full 12 hour day, which is the norm for these trips.
This past season, I put about 1,500 miles on the car, and about 30 hours of running time again. I did finish the season with a power train vibration, or something, that will get my full attention in the spring. I hope to be Specialty’s first customer in the new building ( or close). I also killed my battery. I somehow left the dome light on, as the sun was still bright when we got back to the plant. It would not start the Monday, when I went to clean up the car. I had to jump start it. It lit right off, but, it seems to have finished the battery. Kinda funny, as we had a discussion on battery life, during the drive. I have used a battery maintainer, so this battery was 5 years old. Not bad for something that sits like that.
So, that’s a wrap for the season. I made a BAD call when I put the GoPro on the outside of the car. It was still on when we got Seton Lake, but, it did not record anything onto the SD card! I even had bought Lithium batteries for it. I guess the wind chill at 70 MPH was just plain too frigg’in cold. Rheis had his Gopro on the INSIDE of his car, so hopefully I can use some of his footage, as we head to putting together this year’s drive DVD. Really pissed me off again, as that was one of the best driving segments we have done in a long time. FIGURES! I have such a love/hate thing with that camera.
Thanks to all that made this year’s drives so much fun, a good group of people, if there ever was!

Keith Law
October 17, 2009

Rest in Peace Shaun, I was thinking of you…..

[bertvorgon]

I guess everbody should have read their news letter by now. Here is our tale from the trip to Canby this past June.
Enjoy!



TALES FROM THE GREAT ROLLING DYNO

OR

BERT VORGON VISITS AMERICA


I could see the distorted red reflection of my car in his aviator sunglasses, ovalized in the large lenses, his red and blue lights flashing over his shoulder, as his police car was just parked at an angle behind me. As I reached for the glove box, to get my wallet out, I noticed his hand hover closer to his service weapon, as he approached my window. “Oh GREAT”, I thought to myself. Remember the Walking Boss, in COOL HAND LUKE, always sitting on the side line, no expression, shirt starched stiff in the hot afternoon sun…shot gun cradled in his arm…..no eyes behind those glasses, THAT is what is walking towards me! But wait, we need to back up 72 hours…..

I started my whining the week before we were to leave, the weather looking iffy again, rain predicted through the week. Sure enough, on the Thursday I was to take my car home, it just rained like hell. I did manage to get it to my daughters place between rain cells, and put it away for the night, DRY! The next morning, Holy Mother of God, it is just pissing down. I was to meet Byron , Richard, and James down by the Border, then we planned to cross at 8:00 A.M., hopefully beating the morning rush. I wandered around the living room, ranting about the rain, my wife finally saying “Suck it up Big Guy!” I sat back and thought , “Yup, adventure time, what’s the worst I have to do..clean the car…?” Travelling with Byron, Richard, and James is always fun anyhow, so off I went, into absolute torrential rain.

My usual paranoia about the Border was a non event, flashed him my passport, he asked me where I was going, and that was it. We cleared the Border by 8:20 and headed off into the great land of America. We decided to drive until we needed fuel, which took us just south of Tacoma. Traffic was pretty good, unlike the last trip, which we did in 2007.

The weather had finally dried up, as we cleared Everett, being totally dry when we pulled into a small gas station just off I-5. Byron has been using a new GPS, and asked if I would like to try it. Byron said I could check my speed/gear ratio chart, which he thought was off, and of course my speedo, which I know is off. I was going to pass, as I cannot see anything close, without my bloody reading glasses. One down side as you age, that’s for sure. At least I can still see what the pilot is eating, when the 747’s fly overhead! I got my glasses out on the seat, next to the GPS. This was to be one of my first encounters with these things. I have gone hiking once with fellow, who had his new GPS…and the battery died! Technology is great when it works, but I was glad we were not lost in the wilderness. I had my trusty map and compass anyhow! My other encounters with GPS involve some of my new customers, who end up phoning for directions, as their GEEWHIZZ Techno Toy puts my business one block away..ha, ha! No wonder the military bombs the wrong building occasionally.

So, we start to saddle up, ear plugs in, fuel on, light the fire. Byron pulls out, then James, then, I pull out, all of us stopped at a traffic light. As I am sitting there, lost in thought, engine ticking over at 1,000 RPM, I thought I heard a loudspeaker, kind like you hear at an Auto dealer…”Mr. Bernie, please phone the front desk!” Seemed far, yet it had too much presence. As I made the right turn, and then followed James into the left lane, I hear this female VOICE…”TURN LEFT ON 133, THEN RIGHT ONTO I-5!” “What the hell is THAT?” I’m looking around, then it clicks…the crazy GPS is talking to ME! “Holy Cripes!” I look down and sure enough, I can just make out the turns on the little map on the GPS, yup, left on 133, then right onto I-5. That’s pretty amazing for a guy like me, who still has his 6 transistor radio, with the Rat Fink decal on it, from 1965.

We accelerate out onto the highway, and blend into the zillion cars and trucks, people on the move, the economy in motion. I try to get the GPS at an angle to watch the little screen, and see what my speed is. I let my speed settle with Byron’s pace, and check things out. It seems that my speedo is 8 MPH out, and that my gear ratio chart is about 4 MPH out. After a few miles of mulling this over, I really think my tach is out. I have had the AutoMeter one for a zillion years, and at idle it does kinda bump around, so I really do think it is out. Have to check that out one day. Glad I got the forged connecting rods in there, maybe 8,000 RPM ISN”T! To the moon Ralph!

After a couple more hours we bailed off for a Mexican food lunch, and planned our next traffic strategy, such as it could be. After our 2007 trip, with an absolute nightmare in traffic at the Portland Bridge, we decided to try going 205 to Canby. As it turned out, and I sure was not thinking about it, we still had to cross the Columbia River, over a bridge. This will play out, as you will see on our return route. Traffic was heavy, almost at a standstill in some spots, but, we cleared things just before afternoon rush hour. We then got onto a secondary highway, which took us in the back way to Canby. It was actually a good run, with some nice sweepy corners, and not too much traffic.

After checking in to the Motel, the obligatory car cleaning and washing began, the cars really not bad, considering the rain we went through. Not long after, Art Hughes showed up, and in a blink, had more car cleaning products out of his trunk, than Canadian Tire carries in a year. No wonder his car looks so good. Byron had been a slacker with his aluminum polishing on his nice new radiator, so I gave him a few lessons on using Autosol to brighten things up. I only had a few water spots on my inter-cooler and oil cooler. After getting the fleet ready, we decided to head down to the Fair Ground, to check things out and register.

It was very quiet at the Fair Ground, all the campers had yet to arrive, some of the merchants had their stuff out, but that was it. We bench raced for awhile, got registered, then booked it back to the Motel to make dinner plans. Art was there, and he made a suggestion for some place at the edge of town., meeting up with a few of the Americans for dinner, Kelvin Deitz being one. There had been a discussion on our “stiff” CDN suspension springs, so I offered to take Kevin for a ride after dinner on Saturday.

Saturday morning dawned with a grey sky, but, after looking out race morning windows for 27 years, I could tell this was a high fog, and would burn off later. I tried to have a quiet coffee in the room, as I did not want to wake up James. It had one of those typical motel coffee machines, that makes two cups of bad coffee. It sounded like it was trying to either muster enough energy to blow the room up, or, launch itself into outer space. So I headed out side. There was Byron, parked in his chair at the end of the walkway, working on his computer. We decided to do our morning walk through town, over to the Fair ground. Sleepy town America is just like sleepy town Canada, slowly coming to life, as the sun try’s to kick start things again. Only thing NOT sleepy in Canby is when that Amtrack passenger train comes through, or the freight train. The passenger train is just plain scary, as it is doing 70 MPH when it high balls through. The little bells at the crossing go DING, DING, that arm comes down, and WHAMMO, that train just blasts through town…the middle of town I might add. Very impressive, when you think of the kinetic energy in that thing. No wonder when a car or truck gets hit, they almost tend to cease to exist. The freight train is just plain loud. Speaking of freight trains, when we got there, I noticed a loaded freight sitting at the edge of town, on the Friday. When Byron and I did our walkabout on Saturday morning, it was still sitting there, engine idling. I did a walkabout over to Fred Meyer Saturday afternoon, and it was still sitting there idling. As I got closer I see it is a ROBOT TRAIN…Hmmmmm. Later, Sunday afternoon, after idling for two full days that I was aware of, it left, controlled likely by some guy with a coffee cup in his hand, in Milwaukee or Florida, staring at some huge video game board, covering a wall, in the great control center.

Byron and I had a nice walk over to the Grounds, taking in the flavor of the day. I could not get over how many police cars Canby has. I saw both police and sheriff, and I don’t know what the distinction is in the States, but, both look ominous, more on this later.. We wandered around talking for a bit, then, decided to walk back, get the gang, and head back over. I had packed enough snacks for breakfast, of which my wife’s oatmeal cookies are a meal unto themselves. We all convoyed over to the show area, and set up just for a day of bench racing, eating, and staying hydrated, as the day did get hotter. At one point, I decided to walk over to Fred Meyer, to pick up something. It was at this point I checked out the Robot Train, and took a picture of the warning on the front of the engine. On the way back from Fred Meyer, I stopped into the small museum they have there. That is one good way, in a very quick snapshot in time, to see where a place and people have come from. In there was a model steam train that was an engineering marvel. It had to be four feet long, was made in 1958, and took years to build. Seems a shame in some way, that it is tucked away, in a back room. Having been in 100’s of museums in my life time, that seems to be the way, our life’s effort or hobby, relegated to a back room somewhere, destined to collect dust. We finally rolled out of the fair ground, and back to the motel. I noticed that my car was covered in sap from the shade tree I parked under, thus prompting another round of car washing. It is amazing I have any paint left, a testimony to Andy’s paint job, done last in the winter of 1983/84!

The dinner bell was ringing, so we all headed back to the Hall at the Fair Grounds. Dinner was the usual great fare, lots of food, good company, and we even played one of my DVD’s from our drives. It kinda got lost on having no sound. Oh, well, Hollywood hasn’t knocked yet either. As dinner finished up, I took Kelvin for a ride in my car, back up the highway we had come in on. It was four lanes, with some bumpy parts, some sweepers, which at high speed, should make the ole’ suspension work. I couldn’t really remember the road so I was not going to push it, and, I was very cautious about the local constabulary, visions of every prison movie I have ever seen still rattling around in my brain. As soon as I got it pointed straight, I let it rip, zipping only to 7,000, through the gears. About a mile down the road, just as I came round and down a hill, I see a huge Sherriff’s truck, on the opposite side of the road. I suck it down to maybe close to the speed limit, and go by him. He pulls out, and follows me. At this point I thought I would just tell him that Kelvin pulled a gun on me, and told me to drive that way. After half a mile, the road necked down, and I turned off to the left, to make a turn around. He went on his merry way. Ah, ha….we ripped it back through the gears heading back to town, with I think, Kelvin understanding what is really going on with our suspensions…think SHOCKS!

We really did not stay around long after dinner, with James and I heading back to the Motel. Byron elected to stay with the camp out crowd and bench race there. Arriving at the Motel, we found Frank and his posse in the parking lot, with it becoming a bit of a mini car show. The age range was huge, with the young guys flying around on skate boards, etc. James and I grabbed our cameras, and started playing with different settings, trying different flash and white balance settings. I soon realized the pitfalls of a point and shoot camera again. All of a sudden, James and I realized WE were the only ones left in the lot! Everyone else had gone to their rooms. It was 11:00 PM by then, so we went in and watched some racing on TV, finally pulling the pin when we realized dawn was not that far off.

Sunday dawned clear and bright, the hint of the heat to come, just spiking the morning air. We all travel very light on these road trips, so it took us no time at all to pack up, and get ready to head to the show. I headed over to the lobby to check out the Continental breakfast, finding Byron in heated discussion with the owner. Seems Byron’s pillow he brought from his wife’s prized collection had disappeared. At this point Byron was resigned to his fate in dealing with Joyce, when I noticed the owner head to the room. A few minutes later he came back with Byron’s pillow. Seems the room maids made up the bed, and in their wisdom, put the pillow in the bottom drawer of the dresser. Byron frantically canceled his one way trip to Morocco, as his day just got brighter.

Not much to say about the show itself really, if you were there, you know…if you have done car shows….you know…if not…well…you talk to people for hours, look at stuff, vote for class choice, wait for awards…then head for home. I did enjoy the show, as I knew more people this time, and met some that I had only talked to on the 510 Realm. I think THAT has been a great thing now, as it really has linked so many people together. I got to meet Chris/Heirfaus, and we talked video games as much as we talked cars. We will do our online Deathmatch one day, I suspect I will get my butt kicked as usual. I’m still looking for that Invincibility perk. Byron and I both picked up awards for our cars, and that is always an honor at that sort of event, with so many people voting. I also spent the day staying hydrated, which meant having a TON of fruit smoothies and water…more on this later……! Good show, great cars, interesting people.

It was during one of the sun breaks, at a picnic table, that the discussion of our route home had come up. Art Hughes had mentioned he came down to Canby through some different roads, other than I-5. This sounded good to us, a bit more scenic, and less traffic congestion. Sounded like some twisty bits too, this ALWAYS gets our attention. We were going to head back the 205, the way we came, then divert off the I-5, then run the 507 through Centralia in Washington, hook right up the 512, then up to the 405. This should get us missing that bloody log jam at Tacoma and possibly Seattle. Sounded good! Then, one of the locals heard us talking, and suggested that going back on the 205 was a BAD idea. Seems they work on the BRIDGE on the weekends, and the congestion would be huge. So, after some discussion, it is decided that we will head back to the I-5, book it up to Portland, then hook left, following highway 30 North, up to Longview, then, back onto I-5, THEN try our new route through Centralia. Got that?! Jeez, I’m glad Byron is leading, with the GPS rolling map..or so we think.

So, oil checked, fluids loaded, light the fires, off we go. Speaking of fluids, I have now had approximately 3 gallons of liquid drinks…….

Rolling onto I-5, the traffic is quite light, zipping up to 70 MPH. As we head into the labyrinth of over and underpasses at Portland, we find ourselves making some pretty abrupt lane changes, as we suddenly see the route we have to get to. For a long time, it seemed like we were heading too far West, but, it then went in a Northerly direction, all is good. It was different, but slower. That’s ok, as the frenetic pace of I-5 gets a bit much at times. We hit some small towns, always slowing to the posted speed limit, Byron setting the proper pace (read SPEED LIMIT) with the GPS. Now, I like to think that I am fairly observant, of what is going on around me, or, lurking about behind billboards, specially in Small Town America! In this case I think it was in a place called Scappoose, or Warren, when I see this state trooper car behind James. It has one of those HUGE push bumpers on it, the ones that basically say..”I can BLOW you into next week if I want to!” I did not see where he came from, and, in the next instant, I see the lights come on. “HHMMMMM..” I think to myself, he must have just got a call. James moves over slightly, as do I. Wham, he plugs it in behind me, then motions James to pull over in front of me. All this, while Byron and Richard merrily disappear down the road. “Holy Crud Mucker!” I have this huge paranoia thing blast through my brain, every prison movie I have ever seen runs by at full speed. I see Brian Dennehy, as Sherrif Teasle, in First Blood, dragging me from my car, soon to be hosed down in some back water Oregon town jail. “What the hell does he want?” I mumble to myself. I look in my side mirror, as he opens his door, 8 million red and blue lights blazing away. I start to reach SLOWLY for the glove box, hoping he can see my hands, as I go for my wallet. Before I can even get it out, he introduces himself as Sergeant Major Super Trooper Such and Such, and says..”Put your wallet away, I don’t need to see your license…!” “ Do you know why I am stopping you? “HUH?” Ok, he is playing the Super Trooper thing…. I look up at him squarely, the reflection of MY AVIATORS, reflecting off his AVIATORS..I think mine were bigger than his…..and I say…” To be perfectly honest, I do not have a clue!” He looks at me, with a big smile, and cites that I was speeding through……..his little town…..”HUH!!!” I said I was sorry, that I THOUGHT we WERE at the speed limit, as our BUDDY ( who is now 20 miles out of town) has the GPS thingy, and we had been following the whole speed thing religiously. His smile gets bigger, and says he is not giving me a ticket today, and then starts to check out my car, and ask some questions about it. Then, he says he is going to go have a chat with James, and then we can go. This whole thing has a familiar ring to it, like the year I missed the super speed trap, after beating the motor cycles up the hill from Penticton, and everybody got a ticket but me. I eased my cyanide pill back into the glove box. I really think he just wanted to check the cars out, he did not do any safety stuff, and I know we were at the speed limit. He was actually very nice and professional, and the thoughts of being chained up and hosed in some cold jail cell, faded very quickly.

Speaking of quickly, we now had to catch up to Byron and Richard! Off we went, with my kidneys now suggesting that the 3 gallons of liquid I had drank………

After a few dozen uncomfortable miles, I was debating whether to use a ton of boost, pass Byron, then put my signal on to pull over, so I could throw myself over the guard rail, or, just look for a suitable spot, hit the brakes, then throw myself over the guard rail. Catching up is not usually a problem for me. The real problem was that is all there was… road..and.. guard rail..no place to get the car safely off. Rats! The miles are going by, and my brain is now solely focused on NOT exploding. I FINALLY see a small side road ahead, pulling a 6 G brake and turn, to accomplish getting off the road. At this point, I figure they will only be few miles down the road, a bit of boost should do the trick. I launch back onto the road, and start sawing through the gear box, when they come blasting back towards me, sweeping past me as I went round the corner. “What a fun afternoon so far!” I thought to myself. Ah, that’s what buddies do on a road trip, keeping check on whoever is last in line. Thanks Guys! We stopped in Ranier, just before the big Longview bridge, to plan our next leg.

Zipping off at Centralia, found us in one of those typical small towns, Canada or America, that Walmart and Burger King have passed by, leaving people to actually have some time to think, and really maybe enjoy life. Those little places where you actually know your neighbors’, and the next mega house is NOT going up. This route had us travelling a very nice secondary road, with slow but steady traffic, some sections even void of cars. EVERY town had a speed trap, or serious speed enforcement, and, as they say, discretion is the better part of valor, we did stay slightly below the speed limit, just about everywhere. Ultimately, I ended up putting two hours more engine running time on my car, than the last trip I did. After going behind Fort Lewis, we knew we were getting close to our next junction, and that we should be heading EAST. Problem was, the GPS was telling us to “ Go WEST you 510 guys, go WEST!”

We deeked into an abandoned gas station, after passing what we knew should be the ramp to take, to get to the 405…to the EAST. As we were standing there, we heard a nice sound of a flat six revving up, accompanied by the slight haze of tires, as a bright red 914 came blazing across the intersection, right into our lot. He of course spied our cars, and like any true car guy, he and his son wanted to see them. We talked for a bit, and he confirmed our route..to the EAST. Within a few minutes we were well on our way to the I-5, with very light traffic. Having decided to push right on through to the Border, without dinner, we only made one quick stop for a splash of fuel, and easily cleared the Border at about 11:00 PM. Just as we approached the roundabout at 8th, a stupid Corvette driver dicked us around, coming to a dead stop, then of course used his huge torque to pull away, completely screwing up the nice corner and shot onto the freeway. I gave him a shot to the head with some boost, then, let him be, as he seemed too sketchy.

I arrived back home at midnight, actually feeling pretty good for such a drive, having kept myself hydrated the whole time. If I have learned anything from my biking, it is that drinking lots of fluid really keeps the headaches away, and you feel less tired at the end of a long day. The car ran fine the whole time, stayed cool, and it even gave me some good fuel economy. I enjoyed the company of my fellow travelers, had some good laughs’ , and, proved again, that the “Trip is the Destination”

KEITH LAW
July 26, 2010

[spoolinitup33]

Where Bert Vorgon came from...snicker....snicker......only the locals will remember this



BERT VORGON BRAKE SYSTEMS
#510-015 LAKE BULLSHITSKI DRIVE
STOPFASTKI, N. SIBERIA
00PL510-2DR73
APRIL 1,1997

Greetings from Lake Bullshitski!!!

How are you Comrade Gary? I hope you have had a productive winterski gettingk the Yellow Bomber ready for combat. We have herd rumors over here of all the thinks that you are doink in your garage. As a matter of fact we even had the smell of Bondo waftingk over the North Pole. Maybe somebody buldink fender flares? I guess all the 510 club members are gettingk ready for that Knoxski Hillclimbski, eh! Our KGB have been tryingk to find out what everbodie is doinsk, but, most doors are locked. They (the KGB) say it is due to someone spying outs a 3" stainless exhaustski system on 510 in a race shopski in New Westminsters. Heard anything about that? Seems that fellowsk has been up to know goodski all winter! I thinks all you 510skis are tricky buggerskis!
Hey, hows your son doink on that Dodge Coltski? We heard it is pretty trickski and should bee pretty fast. Still have to be some thing to beat the old Ladaski!! HAHA.
Speakink of the ole' Lada, Rimski finally did it in. Over the winter he decided he needed to upgrade the wiring, etc. on the Vorgon Decelerator. He accomplished that with only one small fire. After the modification he decided to try some new brake padskis. Seems he was reading a magazinski sent to him by a Mr. Gadget. It had all sorts of neat stuffski on those Nascar guys, and, some infoski on Carbon Fiberski Padskis! Well, Rimski thought those sounded far outski !! Two weeks later he had a set, specially made, for the Lada. Off he went, thundering along Lake Bullshitski, on one of his fast, scenic tourskis. About twenty minutes later, I heard a horrendous explosion from the far end of Lake Bullshitski. Upon examinink the wreckage, it seems Rimski should have had a proper fuel cellski in the car. The tremendous deceleration ripped the fuel tank out of the rusty ( lots of saltski used in the Motherland) frame! The fuel tank plowed forward, through the passengerski compartment. On it's way forward, it ripped out the Vorgon Decelerator. When the wires were ripped out, they triggered the explosion. The roofski of the Lada was missingk! After much searching it has been determined that Rimski was blown BACKSKI into Lake Bullshitski, again!! Hopefully he filled the air tankskis in the survival capsule. Bad part about this is that our goverment insuranski will not pay for repairskis. I bet yours would.

Good Newsski! Things are very bads here so I have decided to moves to your good city. It sounds like you all have lots of funski on hikes, meetingks, and testingks my brakes out. I have applied for a jobski with a little company in a place called Lankley, or Langsleyski, or somethink like that. I have lots of experience in lights, after workingk on the drivingk lights on the Lada. I might even have my own office, with my own name plate on my desk, wow! I hope it all works outski.
I must press on, as the mail delivery is goingk to be very early today. Best of luck in the 97' race season, and hopefully, we may all get to test our Decelerators out together. I would like to go on one of your Scenic Lake tours.

Best Regards,


Bert Vorgon Decelerators, Inc.

What on earth is this?

[bertvorgon]

LONG...LONG story...

It was one of the letters sent over from brother Rimski...during his many attemps to perfect the braking system now on my car...

I will find the original text of the Brake test, and see if I can post it up here....

It was an ongoing, running joke, among the early club members, involving midnight runs to mail boxes, stealthy things happening in the middle of the night....and on and on....

Bert Vorgon was a character I created, and took on the name....It did involve brakes...

That letter was written in 1997, the year I put the stainless 3" exhaust on my 510, which let me set at the time the hill record for the fastest production sedan to go up the Knox Hillclimb, even beating some Formula cars.

Mr. Gadget was a name given to me by the car club I belonged to at the time, as I was always updating the gauges in my car, and building the prototypes for my Intercooler sprayer system, and fine tuning my methanol injection system.

The Dodge Colt eluded to, was the Specialty Engineering car, that Andy built, raced, then sold to one of our 510 club members.

The scenic tour was of course a subtle reference to our very our SCENIC TOURS here, blasting through our mountain passes.

The Yellow Bomber was of course Gary Koehn's ice/road race 510, which morphed into a full blown road race car, prepped by both Gary and Specialty

[butters68]

i thought is was some sort of flashbackski from your early years ,all that potski.

[bertvorgon]

Dodge Coltski....

[bertvorgon]

Just to keep continuity, and the historical record, I put the Knox story here also.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WrW7manrxmQ

video link above

viewtopic.php?f=1&t=16331

pictures from Knox in above thread

TALES FROM THE GREAT ROLLING DYNO

KNOX 1982


After spending the past three years, in my newly refurbished red 1973 510, slaloming, I was looking for a bit of a new challenge. I had heard about the Knox Mountain Hill climb from a few of the guys that had run it, saying how exciting and challenging it was. Having written off my 1972 sedan, on the Squamish highway, I was a tad unnerved by the prospect of falling off this thing, as I had also heard all the horror stories.

I finally decided in the early winter of 1982, that I would go and try it, along with my good friend Dave, in his 510. With borrowed race tires, borrowed fire suit, and NEW leather moccasins for driving shoes, off I went. I had gone up the previous year to watch, and really did think that how tough could this be?! Then, in the early spring of 1982, I went up in April, to walk the hill, and try and figure out some driving lines. This “tradition” of going up in April, became a regular thing for a bunch of us, being a social, guys day away if anything, and, a day to do battle at the local go-cart track. I have written about that before, with much mayhem going on, when a dozen competitive guys hit the track. Blood was literally spread on some of those days.

So, on a sunny May day 1982, Dave and I head off to Knox, he was flat towing his 510, with his ex Rebel police car, cop shocks, cop brakes…..! EVERYTIME we stopped we would say to each other, we are going to take it easy, just learn the Hill, and stay in the middle of the road. The “middle of the road”, is where it was recommended that we stay, by the guy who was the KING of the hill, until we had a better feel for it. That was sure as hell my plan. The year I went to watch, I saw many cars fall OFF the road, doing any degree of damage. I sure did not want to do that, especially with my newly refurbished 510, and I had PROMISED Andy at Specialty, that I would not!

Arriving at the Hill that Friday afternoon, had us upon a scene that I would partake in for the next 14 years, and is still burned into my brain. Such a beehive of activity, like any pre race really, but, its own uniqueness, being in the park, and a party atmosphere to boot. I was nervous as hell, this was BIGTIME racing for me. My sense of being king out on the Great Rolling Dyno was rapidly diminishing, when I saw all the real race cars there. I was to be in a class that had a road race Camaro in it, driven by Peter Baljet.
Ultimately, this car’s time was the one I set myself to beat.

Time has erased the details of the weekend for me. It was a blur of activity, the total rush of adrenaline, the evening partying, and the friendship… a race weekend for sure.

What I do remember…

Dave crashed his 510, in the killer Turn 5. After all our talk, he went into Turn 5 too fast, launching over the ditch, and hitting the ONE BIG ROCK, in the field. This corner claimed many of my friends over the years, even another in his 510, losing a toe in the process, and instituting a rule for foot protection. I managed to place second to the V-8 Camaro, and vowed I would catch that thing. I did stay in the middle of the road, and started to realize that Knox was just an uphill slalom, where POWER was going to be key. Not discounting there are some fast sweepers that are intimidating to say the least, gravity was your enemy. I also vowed right then and there, that I would NEVER go to Knox on old tires..PERIOD. Part of Dave’s problem was that he was on old race tires, hard as the proverbial rock. He would have been better on his street tires. Brent Wilson killed his 510 in the early 90’s, up in Turn 7, in a very high speed crash, with old tires. As Knox is early in the season, I figured my race tires would be scrubbed in by Knox, from Solo use, and a set usually lasted me for the season. (I could never have afforded a second set anyhow, so it was a moot point that the slaloms at the end of the season, could be lost to those guys with the fresher tires)
The next year, October 1983, had me bail off Westwood race track, doing a scenic tour through two sections of the rubber tire wall, coming to a steaming stop…all right in front of my friends!!!!! ARG!!!! I was LUCKY, the crash took out the passenger door, crinked the rad support, and some misc suspension bits, but, IT SURVIVED. To this day, that little crink in my rad support, reminds me of that fateful day. Later, in 1984, we realized what had caused the crash, leading us to the whole rethink on the 510 rear suspension. As that crash in some ways was a blessing in disguise, causing me to get really serious about suspension, and really going for the B.C. Solo Championship, I past on Knox for a few years.

As I had won 4 consecutive B.C. Championships, 1984 -1987, I decided to really get serious about Knox. The goal became to both beat the Camaro’s time, of 2:02, and, get below the Holy Grail of Knox, the sub 2 minute mark. Two seconds does not sound like much, but, at Knox that is a ton of time. I flirted with the 2:01 point for some time, with 1986 a disaster. I out tricked myself with this funky fueling system, in my trunk. Long story, but, Knox pointed out a fuel VOLUME issue at the top end of the RPM range. I placed last that year. One other year, I violated my own rule ( I could not afford tires that year) and went up on my last years’ tires. I thought I had enough wear left..HAH! On my second run, I thought my diff was having problems, like the limited slip was not working. On jacking up the car, I see the CORDS showing through…man, could that have been a disaster. I had to run my street tires. Jamie Mitchell in his 510 beat me that year…RATS!

I needed some more top end power, so, with that in mind, I slowly added an Intercooler, then, a 3” stainless exhaust. Byron helped me the year I experimented with my Inter cooler spray. I had a bottle of ice water, and got him to spray the surface of the cooler. That kept my intake at ambient BEFORE I left the line, minimized heat soak, worked like a damn. I then made at spray system that I controlled from the shifter, in the car. It was the 3” exhaust that really helped finally. It just picked up the mid and top end big time. Coupled with that was the mod we did to my 32/36 Weber. We bored the hell out of the secondary, increasing the CFM by a large amount. THAT also decreased the slow speed drivability. It’s all about compromise, right?!

1997 was my target year, having bought the latest Goodyear qualifying slicks and spent some time jetting the carb. Oh, to have had a wide band O2 sensor then. It is amazing that I never melted the motor, when I think of the hard pulls I would go and do out on Highway 99. I even requested that year that my family did NOT come to Knox, as I wanted to totally FOCUS. I rented a motel room far from the track, where there would be no partying, and was away from traffic noise…..I wanted to SLEEP!

I started the season in 1997 with Art Hughes and I doing a car show in B.C. place, the totally stock 510 against the totally modded 510. I then did three slaloms, to really scrub the tires in. I even did a blast around the area where I work, finding some really rough pavement, to scrub the mold release off the tires.

I did it, 14 years later, cracked the 2 minute barrier, hitting 1:59:543. I could not have asked for a better weekend. I kept it simple to, no trick fuel, relatively hot spark plug, just really monitored the tire pressure.

That was it for me. I needed a break from racing, 27 years of all consuming time spent working and developing my car. I’m glad I was lucky enough to end on such a high note, took me a few years to get over not going to Knox, I could not even go and watch. Hard to watch others do what you had dedicated so much time to.
My competitive streak is still lurking in me, as I know in my heart there is still more TIME in the car to be had. With today’s tires, and knowing how comfortable I am with the chassis and the top end power, there is a second or two left…….

Talk is cheap though, sitting in front of this monitor, coffee in hand……….

Keith Law
February 12, 2011

[datzenmike]

Ah Sun. morning at the races, coffee in hand. Thanks Keith.

[gooned]

Another great read Keith!! Thanks for sharing.

[bertvorgon]

Here is a quick look at our day trip to Barnes Lake, B.C.. I first went up here in the 70's, with my Turbo wagon, to watch the races. A bunch of us would head onto the ice late a night, and roar around in the dark. Our solo club, some years later, set up our own ice slalom at one end, and had our own timed event. You sure learned to be smooth on the rubber to ice deal. I've attached lot of pictures, so you non B.C.s can get a sense of the territory we go/went through, both during this drive, and some of our summer drives. Enjoy


TALES FROM THE GREAT ROLLING DYNO

BARNES LAKE REDOUX



A slow rolling……Boom…..Boom…followed by a….. CRIIINNNNK…followed by Matt saying,
“DON’T MOVE!!!!” , had me frozen in my tracks.

Now, as a kid that grew up in my informative years, in Winnipeg, it was drilled into me NOT to go out on ice. Too many young kids had fallen through the ice in early fall, or late spring, from unsafe ice conditions. One of my ultimate nightmares, next to spiders, is of falling through the ice. After many years of back packing, some of which was over frozen lakes, this thought has never left me. Remember that scene in Never Cry Wolf, where Charles Martin Smith, is walking over the frozen lake, and he breaks through the ice? This is what flashed through my mind, as the ice cracked beneath our feet!

Matt and I had decided to head up to Barnes Lake, for the final race weekend enduro, to watch Malcolm and Richard, race their 510’s. We thought we would just make it a nice road trip day, so we left later in the morning, enjoying the rising sun, and the little bit of heat it carried. I got to be the passenger on this trip, being able to actually sight see for a change. The Fraser Canyon was spectacular, the mountains covered in their frosty toppings of snow. Traffic was non- existent, as we motored along at a steady 100 KMH. At a small park, just before Spences Bridge, we jumped out for the obligatory rest stop, with the reality of the bitter cold hitting us. There was ice flowing down the Thompson River, lending a glittering sparkle to the cold air. Back into the truck had us heading up through B.C.’s dry interior arid land, desert in the summer, desiccated cold dry in the winter, steel blue clear sky all around. The scale of scene seemed much more immense, than the claustrophobic landscape of the coast, that we live in everyday.

The race was scheduled to start at 12:45, so we timed our arrival and hour before hand. No sense freezing any longer than we had to. I had forgotten how long of a climb it is out of Ashcroft, up to the turn to Barnes Lake. I was not even sure that I was on the right route. Finally, the left turn came, that lead us to Barns. The road is paved now, which I always remember as being gravel. The surrounding hillsides had that typical dry dusting of snow, with the frozen lake being a startling contrast in blinding white. The first thing that hit me, as we drove into the parking area, was the lack of cars. We were the only ones there, besides the competitors parked on the Lake itself. Wow, is that ever different, from years ago. As it turns out, there are to be only 11 cars in the 2 Hour Enduro.

We dressed up for the cold, having brought our winter mountain bike under gear. It was -17C that night, and about -5C or so when we got there, in the sun. After speaking to some of the regulars we knew, we headed out onto the lake, planning to take pictures, as we walked around the whole periphery of the track. All the race motors were off at this point so it was relatively quiet. We could occasionally hear this underlying booming noise, with the odd cracking sound. It was not until we had walked down to the start line, and then just past, that one of the worker plow trucks, did a pass over the race course. As he got to the far side of the course, this traveling BOOMING noise hit us, with the loud cracking noise UNDER our feet! I’m looking at the shore, about 100 feet away, and thinking I could almost LEAP that far, should the ice break. In reality, that ice is as hard as steel right now, even the thin snow layer on top creaked under our boots, as only really hard snow can do. After watching ICE ROAD TRUCKERS, I swear I could see a small, perceptible wave in the ice, as the cars went by on the pace lap. Richard, driving the 510, snicked a gear, and ended up retiring to the pits, for a repair. The race was then underway, with tires spinning and clouds of snow ice filling the air. During the first few laps, as the whole pack was on the far side of us, you could feel the ice cracking under our feet, with the accompanying booming noise, like an old boom box car stereo you FEEL, blocks away before it actually gets to you. Malcolm got slowly eaten by the Honda Civics, I think he needs more weight in the rear of the car. Two of the Hondas were very fast, with a lone original Mini Cooper doing a great job. Matt got some great shots of Malcolm and Richard, with his 8’ long telephoto lens. Hopefully he will share some with us.

After walking and taking pictures for about an hour, the next weather front had come over us, blocking out the sun. That is when the temperature started to noticeably drop. I could really feel the chill coming through, and, we were bare handed to take pictures, which did not help. At least my feet were warm. Coming back upon the pits, we found Don and Richard hard at work getting another transmission in the car. They get the hero’s of the day award, lying on the cold ice, working on the car. Matt and I at this point had just decide to get going, as we wanted to head back to Vancouver through the Highland Valley Copper mine and Logan Lake route, to Merritt. This would let me see how the road was for the possibility of a summer drive in our 510’s.

We turned left, onto the highway, heading back up into the mountains, towards the Highland Valley Copper property. The climb up is really long, through vast tracks of forest and high ranch land. The Highland property is huge, with an enormous settling pond, having a coffer dam at each end. The open pit portion of the mine is one of the deepest in the world, used by astronauts as a reference point. The highway reminds me of the section we drive from Lytton to Lillooet, lots of corners and undulating stretches, this would be a good route to go. Past Logan Lake, the highway slowly works its way downhill, finally coming out onto the Spence’s Bridge highway, just out of Merritt. I will think about which way would be the best to do a loop, again thinking of traffic flow. If we could ever actually hit something like this early enough, it would be a blast, without having to go stupidly fast, in small sections. The road surface is pretty good, with minimal heaves or broken sections. We have driven on much worse.

As the cold had finally seeped out of us, with the Tracker heater blasting away for the last half an hour, we stopped for a quick bite to eat, in Merritt. Then we headed back the Coquihalla, to Hope. For the WHOLE trip, the highway was bare and dry, the sub zero temps keeping the water frozen. That was nice, as we did not end up with a salt slimed vehicle, and go through a bottle of washer fluid. We drove out from under the weather front too, so we ended up back into the sunshine, finishing our road trip with some 800 Km under our belt, hitting the Fraser Valley in brilliant afternoon sunshine. The Tracker smoked off almost 27 MPG, which was not bad considering the amount of climbing we did.

I can see a couple of ways we could do a loop, either up the Canyon, to Ashcroft, back to Merritt, then back to Spence’s Bridge, then back the Canyon. This would make a 481 Km loop, Hope to Hope, 800 km total (497 miles). If we could do it just before the start of tourist season, like early June, if we got a good weather window, it would be ideal. Last year, June was a right off weather wise, so maybe we will luck out this year.

I look forward to the driving season coming up, with many a good mile to thunder by, under our belts.


Keith Law
February 26, 2011

[bertvorgon]

THE LAST PICTURE, ABOVE THIS, SHOULD BE THE THOMPSON RIVER.