Cinco de Mayo

Otay, I know Y’all are supposed to be hootin ‘N hollerin over the fact that it’s Cinco de Mayo… And don’t forget to eat the worm…

This elspeciale day made me ponder just how many Mexicali’s had taken part in Formula 1 and did they ever host a Grand Prix? And of course some of you out there are probably way ahead of me, eh?

As yes indeed, Mexico once was a part of the Grand Prix Calendar, well actually it was part of the calendar twice, with all races being held at the Autodromo Hermanos Rodriguez, with the first race being run in 1962 as a Non Championship event. Yet, from 1963 to 1970 the Mexican GP played havoc with the then top flight Grand Prix machinery, as these carbureted beasts were extremely susceptible to the city’s notoriously thin air, since the track was at an elevation of 7,400 feet.

The 1963 Formula 1 World Championship race was won by Scotland’s Jimmy Clark, also the winner of the 1967 event, while America’s Dan Gurney claimed one of his four Grand Prix victories aboard a Brabham-Climax (1.5 liter inline four cylinder engine) race car in 1964.

The final season’s penultimate race of the 1.5 liter Normally Aspirated era (1961-65) was a watershed event, as American Ritchie Ginther scored his lone F1 race win and Honda Racing’s maiden Grand Prix victory aboard the Honda RA272 with a transversely mounted V-12 power unit. This would also be Goodyear’s very first Grand Prix victory.

Mexico City would remain on the F1 schedule thru the 1970 season, when it was dropped after the circuit was unable to control spectators from continuously hovering too close or being on the racing line…

The 4.421 Kilometer circuit located in Magdalena Mixhuca, a public park in the northeast of Mexico City was updated to FIA standards in time to return to the F1 Calendar in 1986, as high fencing and ferocious guard dogs kept spectators at bay. This event would see another surprise victor, as Gerhard Berger would score his and Benetton’s maiden Grand Prix victory, largely credited to their Pirelli tires outlasting the competition. The Autodrome would remain a fixture until 1992, when sadly once again the track would be dropped from Grand Prix competition, as the circuit’s bumps had finally outgrown the F1 Constructors welcome.

Interestingly, rumours first surfaced in 2003 about Mexico’s possible return to action with Bernie Ecclestone stating in 2006 that Mexico would indeed return to the GP limelight with a round of the 2009 season being held at a brand new $70 million facility built in Cancun, which now has fallen by the wayside.

Although CART contested a pair of races there from 1980-81, with both events being won by Rick Mears for Penske Racing, CART also turned its back upon the aging circuit which laid largely dormant until Gerry Forsythe instigated a massive rebuilding project in the new millennium.

Champ Car then began competing at the refurbished circuit from 2002 thru 2007 and could Tony George be pondering a future return to Mexico City as the Indy Car World Series? Presently, the only two major American sanctioning bodies venturing down South of the Border are Grand Am and the Nationwide series…

And while searching for Drivers, I was quite surprised to learn that only four Mexicans have ever contested the Formula One World Championship, as you may be aware of the most notable Mexicali’s being the Rodriguez Brothers.

Interestingly, their father Don Pedro reputedly made a small fortune as head of the countries elite Mexican Motorcycle Police force, thus his background of “Scooters” apparently rubbed off on his two sons, who would begin their racing careers as Motorcycle racers, as both brothers were National Champion multiple times before moving onto automobiles.

Although Ricardo was refused entrance into the 24 Heurs du Mans due to his early age (16) Ricardo and Pedro often competed in top notch machinery bought for them by their father, as the brothers contested several events for Luigi Chinetti's N.A.R.T. (North American Racing Team)

“Pedro was just 20 and his brother Ricardo was two years younger when US Ferrari importer Luigi Chinetti dispatched them to Le Mans at the wheel of a Ferrari 250 "Testa Rossa." There the Mexican kids put the fear of God into all their rivals and would have won the race had the car lasted.”


Ricardo Rodriguez
Supposedly it was the younger (19yr old) brother Ricardo who sparked the Nation’s lust of hosting an International Grand Prix with his rise to prominence during his various Sports Car drives, having finished second at Le Mans and third at Sebring. These performances apparently caught the attention of Enzo, thus being invited to drive for the Scuderia Ferrari in the 1961 Italian Grand Prix before graduating to a full time works drive in 1962.

Although 1962 wasn’t a hugely successful year for Ferrari in F1, Ricardo did win the Targa Florio aboard a 246 Dino SP, while making five starts in Formula 1 (1961-62) and scored points in the Belgian and German Grand Prix’s before Enzo decided not to send his cars to Mexico City. Sadly Ricardo would perish during practice for the 1962 non-championship event while driving a rented Rob Walker Lotus 24 racing car.


Pedro Rodriguez
While Mexico was deeply morning the loss of 20yr old Ricardo, elder brother Pedro was now contesting major Sports Car events, having won the 1963 Daytona Continental for Chinetti behind the wheel of an N.A.R.T. Ferrari 250 GTO. The Continental was the forbearer of today’s Rolex 24 and originally began as a three hour race. In 1964 Pedro would win once again, this time sharing the N.A.R.T. Ferrari 250 GTO with Formula 1 World Champion Phil Hill as the event had been lengthened to 2,000 Kilometers.

Pedro had also made his way into Formula 1 by 1963 and would blossom into Mexico’s most successful Grand Prix driver, ultimately contesting 54 Grand Prix’s for Ferrari, Lotus, Cooper and BRM, (1963-71) as Pedro would win two events, the 1967 South African GP for Cooper and the 1970 Belgian GP for BRM.

Pedro was also a gifted Sports Car pilot, having contested Le Mans 14times, Pedro was victorious for John Wyer’s Gulf Ford GT 40 effort in 1968 before signing a contract with the Englishman and winning the World Sports Car Championship aboard the all conquering Porsche 917 two years in a row.

Pedro also won the North American Ice Racing title in 1970 as well as finishing fifth in that year’s Charlotte World 600 RASSCAR event before his untimely death in a Sports Car event at the Nurburgring behind the wheel of a Ferrari 512 in 1971.


Moises Solana
This is a long forgotten Formula 1 driver I hadn’t heard of previously. He was a journeyman driver who drove for Cooper, Lotus and Scuderia Centro Sud. (1963-68) along with limited forays into Formula 2 with Lotus and Ferrari, making a total of eight Grand Prix starts, primarily contesting the Mexican Grand Prix several years in a row.

Moises also contested road racing in the Northern Hemisphere, in the United States Road Racing Championship (USRRC) forbearer of the Can Am championship and was the first driver to score points in an USRRC International event aboard an McLaren.

Solana was killed in 1969 when he lost control of his McLaren Can Am car in a Hill Climb event upon smashing into a bridge.


Hector Rebaque
A final, lesser known driver would emerge from the shadows of the Rodriguez Brothers. Coming from an affluent Mexican family, Hector bought his way into the Hesketh team in 1977, of which he had mix results at.

For 1978, Hector decided he needed better equipment and bought a used Lotus to run under the Rebaque banner. The following year he bought another used Lotus, but bbecame increasingly frustrated with his perceived lack of support from Colin Chapman. He then decided to build his own chassis and hence commissioned Penske Racing to fabricate what would become known as the HR-100, largely based on his old Lotus.

Hector made a total of 58 starts for Hesketh, Rebaque and Brabham (1977-81) and upon shutting down his languishing Rebaque team, Hector moved onwards to Bernie Ecclestone’s F1 team alongside teammate Nelson Piquet at Brabham in 1980. While vastly overshadowed by World Champion Piquet, it’s reported that Rebaque’s insistence to fly home between Grand Prix’s was a contributing factor to his lackluster Formula 1 career.

Being left without an F1 ride for 1982 after Bernie had hired Ricardo Patrese as his replacement, Hector took up residence in CART for Gerry Forsythe and inherited a lone Champ Car victory in 1982 for Forsythe Racing when Al Unser Sr ran out of petrol while leading the inaugural Road America race. Rebaque then had a major shunt on the high banks of the Michigan International Speedway and decided to retire from motor racing.


Meanwhile, during the resurrection and second coming of Grand Prix racing at Mexico City (1986-92) the events date was shifted to the spring in 1989 to coincide with the reborn USGP. (Phoenix, AZ)

During this time, Mexico also began hosting a round of the World Sports Car Championship and a young German named Michael Schumacher scored one of his earliest career victories co-driving an all conquering Sauber-Mercedes with Jochen Mass in 1990 at the Hermanos Rodriguez circuit.

Most wins at the venerable Autodromo Hermanos Rodriguez are split between three drivers, having two wins apiece: Jimmy Clark, 1963, ’67; Alain Prost, 1988, ‘90 and Nigel Mansell, 1987, ’92.

Mexican Grand Prix winners
1963) Jimmy Clark; 1964) Dan Gurney; 1965) Richie Ginther; 1966) John Surtees; 1967) Jimmy Clark; 1968) Graham Hill; 1969) Denny Hulme; 1970) Jacky Ickx

1986) Gerhard Berger; 1987) Nigel Mansell; 1988) Alain Prost;; 1989) Ayrton Senna; 1990) Alain Prost; 1991) Riccardo Patrese; 1992) Nigel Mansell

May Day

It’s hard to believe that 14 years have slipped by since that HORRIFIC weekend in Imola, Italy… Where not one but two Formula 1 drivers met their fates, while even stranger yet, is the fact that I once stood nearly three feet away from one of these stricken heroes, none other than Ayrton Senna.

And it’s funny to me what we keep indelibly locked inside our memory banks, as I can still clearly see four of the seven Grand Prix drivers that passed thru my gaze that wonderful day in Phoenix, Arizona.

You see, this was my very first foray of attending a real honest to goodness Formula 1 race, having only been introduced to this magnificent form of motor racing two and a half years previously. Thus I found it excellent fortune for the state of Arizona to have miraculously landed a five year contract to host a round of the F1 circus beginning in 1989.

Being a stranger to the Downtown streets of Phoenix, nevertheless mi Madre dropped me off promptly first thing Friday morning, prior to the gates being opened at 7:30AM in order to spend the entire day watching these fabulous racing cars…

Yet, where to purchase my Admission ticket, Having made my way past the various persons trying to forcefully hand me free samples of Marlboro and Camel cigarettes, I approached the ticket booth. Yet, when I got to the window the lady told me; No, you can’t purchase a General Admission ticket here, you’ll need to go to the other ticket booth around the corner… Which was several thousand meters away…

So off I went in search of this mysterious second ticket booth and having found it, was somewhat bemused to be told; NO! You need to go back to the first ticket booth Sir. So, back I went, where I started to become somewhat incensed as I was informed that I indeed needed to go back to the ticket booth I’d just come from… And thus now knowing this stretch of the Grand Prix circuit quite well, made my way back to the other ticket booth, only to be told you know what!

Yet, this “Whose on First” routine had a silver lining in it for me, since said second ticket booth happened to be mere meters away from the open, non-administered entrance into the Formula 1 paddock. As these were the days of Pre-Qualifying when 37 F1 drivers were jockeying for 28 grid spots, with the lowest drivers on the grid being forced to fight their way into the day’s qualifying show.

Yet, just moments before turning around to go back again, I was simply blown away as the first of several of these modern day Gladiators approached. Thus, while standing in the entryway into the F1 paddock, I stood motionless, as the sports “God’s” walked towards me…

Transfixed in total disbelief, the reigning World Champion and future Three Time World Champion Ayrton Senna was walking straight towards me; “Oh My God!!!” Of course not having anything on me, i.e.; writing utensil, scrap of paper, race program, etc, HELL! I didn’t even have a Grand Prix ticket at the moment… I simply stood there dumbfounded watching this maestro of Formula 1 walk directly past me. Where he then stopped to sign an autograph…

Thus I can still vividly see him standing in tan Gucci loafers, blue jeans with an half inch silver belt and an orange sweatshirt with his credentials tucked inside… And as he turned his brown leather briefcase upside down to sign the request, I noticed a hurkin’ large bright gold watch on his left wrist, which looked like a Rolex to me… Yet, the part I found most strange about this whole encounter of frenzied autograph seeker’s was that absolutely ZERO attention was being paid to Senna’s compatriot, who was none other than Japanese F1 driver Aguri Suzuki. (But sadly, nobody bothered Aguri-san for an autograph!)

Then even more bizarre, I watched an Good ‘Ol Boy American who must of weighed nearly 350lbs BEAR HUG “The Professor,” while gleefully having’ his picture taken with the French racing ace Alain Prost.

Next, the scene became even more surreal, as I witnessed another Formula 1 driver seemingly primp himself in the midst of a crowd, which seemed totally unaware of who this overdressed European gentleman was? As I noted to myself that he was also adorned in Gucci loafers, tan slacks, a blue polo shirt with a gray cardigan sweater tied around his neck while striking a pose and looking very sheik. The man was none other than current Three Time World Champion Nelson Piquet!

But the next three drivers I witnessed are a bit hazy, as I think I saw Ivan Capelli and Martin “Billy Bob” Brundle saunter by individually, while last but not least to pass by my unbelievable vantage point was the Belgian Thierry Boutsen on his way into the paddock to prepare for the morning’s qualifying session…

Not being able to pick out any further F1 pilotes, I made a bee-line back for the original ticket booth with an air of urgency as I was positive Pre-Qualifying would soon be getting underway and I still had not been granted admittance into the track! Where I was finally able to purchase my $50 Three Day General Admission pass and scurry inside to watch the day’s activities, later thinking how cool is this? Standing in the middle of Downtown Phoenix in the middle of summer with an ice cold Fosters “Oil Can” in hand and the siren song of 28 Formula 1 land rockets shrieking past me!

Saturday would be even better as Hall convinced me to explore some more of the circuit and we luckily found ourselves watching about one half of the day’s morning qualifying session from the Press grandstand situated at the end of pit lane, until we were finally asked to leave since we didn’t have NO STINKIN’ Credentials… Thus we went off further exploring the tracks circuitous layout, and suddenly found ourselves face to face with the wailing Grand Prix machinery as I quickly snapped a few pic’s from an unauthorized vantage point behind the myriad of chain link fencing, as Ayrton Senna’s McLaren screamed past me.

Ironically that Sunday’s race held on June 4, 1989 in 104 degree heat was sadly the same day as the tragic and UNNECESSARY killings taking place in Tiananmen Square, while China is set to host this year’s Summer Olympics...

Unfortunately I decided NOT to attend the following year’s event, I mean C’mon, it’s gonna be there another four years, right? Thus, the last time I’d witness Ayrton Senna in the flesh, would be the 1991 USGP, which by now he’d become a source of unadulterated angst! Being known to anybody asking me about him as Arrogant! Although this would be the year of his final World Championship, the Brazilian was not in favour with myself, having taken my then favourite driver Alain Prost out of title contention multiple times and being very difficult to beat!

Thus unknowingly, I would be in “Los Wage$” that fateful weekend of 1994, dubiously known as Black Sunday, where I was attending the final Pantera Owner’s Club of America (POCA) Car Show to be held on Freemont Street and totally unaware of the tragedies that would befall the Motor Racing world…

The weekend would begin ominously by Rubens Barrichello monstrous crash on Friday, with his car rolling over and the Brazilian having swallowed his tongue while unconscious… As Barrichello would spend the rest of the weekend in hospital, But things would become even graver, as Roland Ratzenberger would loose his life during qualifying Saturday, as he was the perilous victim of a front wing failure at 200mph, hitting the (Gilles) Villeneuve wall at approximately 180mph… Before coming to a rest slumped over inside the cockpit of his Simtek Ford/Cosworth, being officially pronounced dead upon arriving at a nearby Bologni Hospital.

Yet, as we all know, this wasn’t the final tragedy of the weekend, as renown Triple World Champion Ayrton Senna would meet his maker on Sunday, May 1st, 1994 whilst leading the San Marino Grand Prix, from fierce rival Michael Schumacher.

The race had begun with JJ Letho’s stalled Benetton being struck by Pedro Lamy’s Lotus, as Lamy was unaware of Letho’s troubles until arriving at full speed and clipped the stationary Benetton, sending wheel and suspension components high above the catch fencing and landing upon four spectators. Thus the safety car was sent to fetch Senna while debris was removed from the track before Senna went straight off at Tamberello corner on lap six while being stalked by Schumacher…

Senna was airlifted by helicopter to a nearby Bologni Hospital where he’d also be pronounced dead later that evening and its been said that Senna’s stricken Williams was discovered to have an Austrian flag inside it in order for Senna to dedicate his perceived victory to the fallen Ratzenberger…

Having been fortunate enough to be entrusted to share the driving duties of transporting my good friend Roberto’s gorgeous 1984 De Tomaso Pantera GT5, while convoying with fellow Pantera enthusiast Bud, we’d been making a non-stop beeline North via the I-5 Super-slab and were totally unaware of the weekends tragedies. Upon having stopped to have breakfast in Portland, Oregon, Roberto’s wife Kimberly would break the news to us and Roberto and I were simply dumbstruck…

God Speed Ayrton!

Texas Flood

In case you’re unaware… The weather in Texas is WACOE! As I arrived in Austin on the first week of March with ALL Flights into Dallas/Fort Worth (DFW) being CANCELLED due to an amazing accumulation of seven inches of SNOW! But NO, it weren’t over yet, as my flight to DFW would also be cancelled two weeks later due to Tornadoes/Thunder & Lightning storms. SHEISA!

When I arrived on March 6th at 10:30PM (Central time) it was a chilly 35 degrees f, yet by Friday (3/14) it was 94f, which broke a 44yr old record. The following day (when we were supposed to be in Washington DC) it had cooled all the way down to 86f while we were busy traversing the streets of Downtown Austin.

Yet by Tuesday, March 18th, the temperature had plummeted back down to 42f as there was a monstrous Thunder “N Lightning storm with heavy rainfall… As I kept waiting for the lightning to strike the house, as this was the same storm cell causing havoc at DFW!
(And that’s ALL of the weather report for now!) )

Howdy Y’all,
Hope you didn’t think I was finished with the blow by blow report of my most interesting TEX-ARSE Road Trip… But my adventures of trying to get home weren’t over by a long shot and thus, here’s the skinny on the comedy of my attempt to return home early from Austin, Texas…
Originally I was scheduled to return to Seattle on Thursday evening with Mary Ellen, but after she’d been invited to go to the Palenque ruins in Mexico and visit the Pyramids with friends, I decided to revise my return flight home to Tuesday, March 18th, upon paying the requisite $100.00 fee to do so,

Well! At least I thought so…

Having badgered Clyde to make sure he got me to the airport on time for my Tuesday departure, we had a leisurely lunch of Catfish ‘N Chips prior to departing for the nearby airport, which I’d asked to be dumped off there by noon.

Deciding to park in the parking lot we drove past the entire length of the adjoining Check-in area and were bemused to discover that the parking lot was completely full with orange construction cones blocking the entrance… As Clyde muttered “Son ‘O a Bitch!” Hang on; I’m gonna back-up… Huh? Thus Clyde proceeded to reverse the entire length of the roadway against oncoming traffic in order to drop me off at the Check-in area… As we’d simply come to a complete halt, while Clyde waved surprised motorist past us… SHEISA!!! (That was fun)

Temporarily parking outside the American Airlines counter, Clyde took me inside to stand in a horrendous line for check-in… Telling me he’d be right back, after he parked the car. (Somewhere)

Having barely moved forward in line, as I stood there alone with white cane in hand an overly curt gate employee simply ignored me and when I finally reached the next Airline employee, she asked me: Are you traveling alone sir? ) Uh DUH!) Where are you traveling to sir? I’m sorry all flights to DFW are CANCELLED… But I CANNOT do anything to help you sir since I don’t have a confuzer… You can stand in line (awhile LONGER_ and see if the counter agents can help you reschedule your flight? Next, please.

Then Clyde arrived, telling me he’d just gone and moved all of the orange cones and been followed into the “Full” parking lot... Having told him what I’d learned, Clyde scampered off to investigate further, returning to tell me that ALL flights to DFW were indeed CANCELLED. And I found it highly amusing that they’d given Clyde a TINY (4 X 6) piece ‘O paper with American Airlines 1-800 Number to call and reschedule your flight on. (Which I’d overheard the man in front of me saying he’d been on hold for 25+ minutes) As I DON’T know what was worse; NOT Having been given one while standing in line or being expected to be able to read the TINY piece ‘O paper; but, I digress…

SHEISA! After standing in line for one hour with NO help from any American workers and Clyde finally returning after having been given the scrap ‘O paper just mentioned… I pulled out of line since Clyde needed to return to work for his afternoon school bus run,

Pulling up to the Parking lot’s check-out gate, the attendant informed us that we were two minutes over the )30/60 minutes) “FREE” Parking time and that’ll be $2.00 sir… To which Clyde tried explaining to the hapless attendant just HOW FUCKED The whole Parking lot fiasco was… I’m sorry sir, but that’ll still be $2.00…

To which Clyde refused to pay and simply drove forward into the barricade… HITTING it with his trusty ‘Ol Buick, which incredulously made the metal barrier rotate upwards as we sped away!

Later that evening after Clyde brought the cell phone home Nelie helped me call American to reschedule my flight to Wednesday, of which I should have known better, even having questioned the connecting flights time as the Agent had scheduled a very tight connecting flight for me in Las Angeles… (Do yuh smell another Rat here?)

Having woken up at 5:15AM to the sound of the next door neighbor’s crying baby girl… Nelie made me lunch while I had breakfast, before waking Clyde up to drive us to the airport.

Arriving at 6:05AM, Clyde simply dropped the two of us off (NO Parking lot shenanigans today!) and continued on his way to work… Yet, while checking in at American, I should have smelled a RAT as the American check-in desk jockey informed us she could NOT seem to print me a boarding pass for my Alaska flight and I’d need to check in with them in Los Angeles. (LAX)

Since there were very little Airport lines at “OH-DARK 30,” Nelie & I breezed thru security and arrived at my gate by 6:30AM for my 8:50AM departure.

Trying to listen to the final segment of the book on tape I’d previously picked-up at the library seemed almost futile over the din of the passengers, the endless boarding announcements, the monotonous leaving bags unattended security notices, overly loud “MUSE-AK” (Although it was good to hear Los Lonely Boys being played) and the uninspired airport cleaning crew worker Vacuuming, as the vacuum cleaners extension chord was dragged across my foot for several moments as she vacuumed all around me…

Then I overheard the woman behind me saying that our flight had been DELAYED to 9:40AM… Oh FUCK!!! (Here we go again, eh?) So, I decided to go to the check-in counter @ 9AM to find out what was going on since they had NOT made any announcements over the PA system. (Since everybody can SEE what’s going on…) Asking if I’d make my connection and that I didn’t have a boarding pass for my LAX flight. The flight agent tried vainly to remedy the situation. Although she was able to upgrade me to the front of the cabin in order to get a jump start on trying to get off of the airplane, she still couldn’t get the confUZer to cooperate and therefore I was still minus one boarding pass…

We left approximately at 9:40AM, almost one hour late and the pilot told us we’d be cruising at 30,000 feet in order to minimize headwinds while turning’ up the boost on the ‘Ol Super “Dooper” 80’s (MD-80) turbofan’s in order to see if we could make up some lost time as several people on board had tight connections… (Hello McFly!!! Why’d you schedule the connections so tightly, eh?)

Our three hour (cruise?) flight to LAX was fairly none descript as you know you’re on a really OLD aeroplane when it don’t have a single STINKIN’ video screen in the entire cabin… As the pilot’s voice announced triumphantly; Ah-Hah! Ladies & Gentlemen from the flight deck… We’ve made up eight minutes at the last navigation time check point and we’ll be landing at 10:45AM and arriving at our REMOTE parking spot by 10:50am.

Did I mention the remote parking stall? Apparently American’s Terminal 4 was under renovation and we’d have to park out in the boonie’s and catch a shuttle bus to the terminal to make our connections as things were currently under construction… (Are you getting the idea yet that I should have stayed in Austin until Thursday!)

Of course we were far from done with the frivolities of American’s PATHETIC attempt’s to get back on schedule from yesterday’s flight cancellations… As the pilot announced; “Folk’s it looks like our attempts to arrive early are for naught, as there’s currently another airplane parked in our stall…” So, we’ll have to sit on the tarmac until 11:05AM before they can find us a spot to park in. SHEISA! I ain’t gonna make my 11:26AM connection BASTARDOES…

Of course we trundled about the tarmac of LAX (Four lefts makes a circle…) for several minutes before finally reaching our “REMOTE” location. As the lady next to me said there goes Terminal 4, perhaps we could drop you off?

With the forward door opening at 11:20AM and the passengers being asked to let ALL of us POOR sods with connections to disembark first I gathered my belongings and made my way to the stairway where I was met by a very friendly and proficient ground personnel to assist me to my connection. She escorted me down the stairway onto the tarmac towards the waiting shuttle busses and asked me where I was going? (And I just hadda do it, eh?) Well, I’m supposed to be catching an Alaska flight@ 11:26AM… Oh you’re definitely NOT going to make that flight sir as we headed towards the first shuttle bus.

Before I’d gotten off of the OLD McDonald’s Aeroplane… You know the company that bOringZs had TAKEN over in 1997, OOPS! I mean it was a MERGER, NOT a takeover… HMM? That sound’s vaguely familiar to me, but I digress once again…

Thus, I’d completely relaxed over any attempts of making my connection and was NO longer in any hurry, thus I started laughing to myself when the shuttle bus driver came to a complete halt to let a Lear jet cross in front of us… Why aren’t you passed on the tarmac by Lear Jets everyday? We then continued our circuitous route around several parked aircraft before disembarking.

Next we stood inside a shelter with an airline agent to monitor passengers before hopping aboard shuttle bus number two and driving past more parked Aeroplanes… Then we got to board our third and final shuttle bus, complete with a driver trainee and trainer in the front seat.

My very friendly (Black) female ground worker named Keesha asked me if I did much traveling. Then she and the trainer Leroy started chit-chatting and she said we were coming from Terminal 8, but there ain’t NO Terminal 8! Leroy stated, since it says Terminal 7 on the outside… To which I commented to Keeshaa, didn’t we come from Terminal number nine; You know Number Nine? Number Nine, Number Nine?

Pulling up to Terminal number two I noticed that we had to back up in order to not run in to the parked jet aircraft and Leroy said to the bus driver trainee Latesha you’re doing a really good job and I’m gonna tell somebody… As we’d been driving past all sorts of different airlines parked out on the tarmac, before arriving at Terminal 3, where Latesha loudly called out my stop while Leroy said why are you calling that out? These people already know where we are… (Being the only two passengers on the bus)

Feeling like having some fun as we departed, I said because she’s trying to be nice to me… Which got a round of courtesy chuckles. At the front door I asked Latesha if she was stuck with him all day before thanking her… Then a quick jaunt on the tarmac to a flight of stairs to get inside the terminal since Keesha wasn’t allowed access to the elevator, before finally Arriving at the Alaska gates.

Can I help you sir? Yes, I was supposed to be on Alaska flight #501. That flight has already left sir. (I had to say it, you know!) Keesha guided me over to the Alaska courtesy desk where I explained my situation and the lady printed me a fresh boarding pass for my connecting flight to Seattle.

Of course my flight was leaving from a slightly different gate in regards to where I was sitting. Heading for the check-in desk the lady said; Come straight ahead sir, OOPS! Hang on a second there’s a giant post in your way. While trying to pre-board, I was asked to hang on a second as there’s a problem with your seat… The kind gentleman gate worker asked me how’s it going. I replied “Splendid!” To… which he said my day’s going pretty good too… Everyday I wake up is a good day!

Then I was assisted to my new seat on the aisle, one seat from my original locale, where I managed to take a cat nap before we started making our descent into Seattle over Olympia. We landed 25 minutes early and I was the very last off the plane in order to make sure I had assistance to baggage and the shuttle Express after I’d been asked if I wanted the flight attendant to help me off the plane or could I walk by myself?

I had another pleasant female assistant take me all the way to the Shuttle Express check-in desk where I received another surprise! As the fare had been jacked up another $8.00 (Thanks to our continuously RISING gasoline prices!; Butt DON’T Worry, I’ll refrain from my usual comments upon the total manipulation and collusion of the Oil $heisters until my next post)

Thus, exactly 12hrs after waking I was back in my exquisite apartment. Home sweet home, eh? And Tuh-Duh! I even managed to manipulate the VCR correctly as Y’all know how my ‘Ol School machine is stuck on the ORIGINAL Daylight Savings Time change… KNOTS (Back off Sir Maxxum!) the new “Juan, eh?” Thus I was able to catch all of the previous week’s action Down Under in Melbourne, as I finished watching all six hours of Australia “Just-in-Time” before the Malaysian GP on Easter Sunday… Aye Karumba! The life of a Wurldly Jet Setter, eh?

Special Thanks to Nelie for her wonderful Hospitality and Kudos to Mary Ellen…

TERRLINGA ROAD RASH (Part 3)

Picture: Pinetop Perkins

You know that old saying: “NO Rest for the Wicked…”

Whale that certainly applied to us, as soon as we’d arrived and unpacked the car, it was announced to us that I’d be going waterskiing… Otay, whatever you say Clyde… So off we went to Paul & Jackie’s where the boat was parked, before hooking it up to the Buick which had just clocked approx 4,000 miles, as it felt ‘bout 17,000 miles after the past 96hrs on our Nation’s “Super Slab’s.” Oh, goody! We get to ride in the Buick some more… And now it was quite hot out, as the thermometer would creep up to 94f.

Having put the boat in the lake, which was actually part of the Colorado River which has been dammed… We had to stop in order for Clyde to jump in as he immediately started making unpleasant noises while swimming as fast as possible back to the boat as the water was still ice cold! Then it was decided that I’d drive Clyde water skiing instead, as Clyde taught me the proper take-off procedures; See this? It’s the throttle and you don’t have to be afraid… Just push it ALL the way forward when I yell go… as we were now hurtling across the lake with me unable to see where in the HELL I was going…

Otay, Mary Ellen will stand behind you and tell you when to turn, stop, speed-up, etc. as Clyde jumped back into the frigid water… GO! So, I mashed the throttle and off we went. And although I’ve driven a boat countless times before, I’ve never pulled a waterskier behind me. To which makes for a very strange sensation, basically feeling like you’re pulling an anchor or you’ve got a parachute deployed. As Mary Ellen would say turn left, I am turning left as the whole boat seemed to slew against my steering inputs. Clyde finally dropped and we circled back around with me killing the motor way before reaching him.

With our “Commander in Chief” successfully plucked from the Artic Ocean, I was given the order to keep driving, as Mary Ellen devised an ingenious way of giving me steering commands. Simply giving me either a single tap on the left or right shoulder for turns or a tap on the head to go straight as we were instantly reminded of Rata-tui… Yet, I think Mary Ellen was just having fun hitting me as I got more bonks on the head than shoulders as we cruised about Lake Austin, while Clyde pointed out the proliferation of Mc-Mansion’s dotting the shores. Of which some of them even had their own elevators down to their waterfront property… Before Clyde said there’s a cactus over on the other side… Do you see the stern wheeler dead ahead of us?

Having made it safely back to shore, I even got to drop Clyde off at the dock in order to go get the trailer and then putt-putted around the boat launch before it was time to bring her in. Although I got the boat all the way in, having killed the motor, I wasn’t squared up on the trailer’s bumpers, so Clyde pushed us out and said try it again… As I turned the key, there was nothing… C’mon Arse-hole, turn the engine on and try it again… To which I made several attempts, but there was NO sound, nothing. Do you have it in gear bozo? And even Mary Ellen tried it, but there was absolutely NO spark to the engine, so Clyde was forced to manually haul the boat onto the trailer via the winch… As Clyde would inform us several days later that the 85hp motor’s solenoid was hanging loose when he’d opened up the engine case!

Having survived another three hour cruise aboard the SS Claudia… Let’s go hear some free music, as I’d had NO idea that Spring Break is also the week long South by Southwest music festival in Austin, of which I was informed on my flight home is impossible to get a room in the city for…

So, yep, you guessed it! Time to pile back into the trusty Buick, Home sweet home, eh? Off we went, driving around Austin looking for parking before wandering around in the dark towards one of the many outdoor music venues, as the band sounded vaguely familiar, before the lead singer rambled on about how back in 1986 there was a channel named MTV that actually played music videos on it and this quirky song came on and had everybody talking about it… The band’s name was The Bodine’s and they rocked the crowd fairly well, before it was time to go home.

Having originally intended to be in Washington DC for the fifth anniversary ANTI WAR Protest Rally, we were forced to settle for the Austin Million Musician March instead, as Clyde asked us what time does it start at. The previous evening he’d been up until 1Am fashioning the “Mother of All signs!” As he was now furiously painting this four X four foot creation… SHEISA! I AIN’T CARRYING DAT SUCKER, NO WAY!

Driving near the Capitol building, it was time to dump us out in the middle of traffic and remove the ‘lil sign out of the trunk… As some nearby straggler’s got quite a chuckle out of my sentiments as Nelie was urging me to hurry up, as I was conveniently stuck underneath a bus stop awning with Clyde’s monstrous sign’s wooden pole sticking up skywards…

Thus I carried the massive sign upside down to the Capitol building’s lawn, where the Rally was to start from, simply from the stand point that the sign made an excellent sail in the light Austin breeze which was most welcome as the ambient temperature was 86f… Nothin’ like a long spiralin’ serpentine march in the heat of Texas… Remember, four lefts makes a circle…

Unfortunately only about a dozen musician’s showed up for our march thru Downtown Austin, but nevertheless it was quite fun, as we had a bagpiper in front of us and an electric acoustic guitar directly behind us… As Nelie later informed me that the singer was walking directly alongside another person pushing the cart with all of the electronic gear aboard it, while the singer and guitar player were using cordless mikes… We ended up having great fun singing along with these musicians as we belted out Not down by the Riverside to many different Peace slogans…

At the end of the march, we sat in some shade and listened to various performers play a melody of ANTI WAR songs before finally departing to go back home, upon which Clyde said he wanted to go hear some more music, to which Mary Ellen and I finally refused to budge from the apartment;

No Mas, No Mas, Err, NO Stinkin’ Buick, comprende!

Sunday we drove around getting Mary Ellen a few trip supplies, as she’d wanted to purchase a hammock with mosquito netting before leaving to return to Mexico City and that evening instead of music, we went out for Chinese, which seemed most out of character, but the food was most excellent. )What? NO STINKIN’ Music?)

Monday Mary Ellen departed for the airport and I hung out listening to a new book on tape we’d picked up at the Austin library, before Clyde and Nelie returned home from work that evening. Hey, Clyde its Saint Patrick’s day Nelie announced. Is it true that you’re supposed to pinch somebody if they’re NOT wearing green? To which Clyde announced he wanted to go hear some St. Pattie’s Day music. Leaving at 9:45PM, Clyde assured us we’d be home by 10PM since they get up at Oh-DARK Thirty to go to work.

Our first loop around the Downtown area was devoid of any Irish sounding music, so we ended up parking the car and walking around town in search of any comparable music, while finally standing outside near some street performers playing fiddle, bass, etc. Then as it started to rain, they packed up their instruments and we were off in search of some new music, with Clyde selecting Numo’s, since it didn’t require a cover charge. It was Jam night at Numo’s and although the musician’s playing were talented, their first three cover songs, including ZZ Top’s Le Grange and a Stevie Ray Vaughn tune just sounded like loud noise to me…

But it just so happened to turn out that there was a special guest in the audience. It was none other then two time Grammy winner Pinetop Perkins… Who was still playing the piano at the tender age of 94! Albeit an electric piano this evening and he actually sounded pretty damn good, especially for somebody closin’ in on the Century mark! Although at the end of the show he played the same song twice… But, hey! Me wonders if I’ll be around then to try typing crazy stories likes’ these at such an OLD age, eh?

Yet, by far without a doubt! The best musician’s heard during the entire extravaganza was Del Castillo, who happens to be a local Austin band that just really ROCKS!

TERRLINGA ROAD RASH (Part 2)

Late Monday evening, Mary Ellen, Clyde and I finally departed for Washington DC, which we were aiming to attend the presumed Five year Anniversary ANTI WAR Rally at the Nation’s capitol, thus Mary Ellen & I followed Clyde who was driving the “House car” (His 24’ RV) with expired Washington plates east on the freeway to ward’s Camp Casey in Crawford, Texas, where the Housecar is now serving as the Camp’s lone caretaker’s new ‘N improved housing. Arriving just after 7PM, Carl and his dog were happy to see us, gave us a bite to eat and a ton ‘O Cindy Sheehan T-Shirts to sell in DC as a form of offsetting our petrol expense’s… Like we really needed a hundred frillin’ T-Shirts in the already overloaded Buick, of which Clyde had cleverly taken the back seat out of to allow for the driver to stick their lower appendages into the trunk for sleeping purposes during our marathon non-stop dash eastwards…

Sometime later that evening we were in Arkansas, as I awoke briefly to be informed that we’d just passed Slick Willie’s hometown of Hope and were now making hay past Little Rock, did you want to stop at the Bill Clinton library? NO! Keep going…

The next morning I awoke somewhere towards Memphis, Tennessee, to which for reasons unknown made me start humming Neil Simon’s Graceland as we pulled off of the “Super Slab” to refill the Buick’s fuel tank, to which Clyde informed me upon paying the cashier, that she’d told him; “We’re just-in-time for the RASSCAR race at Bristol!” (Bubbah) The action begins in just two more days; do you want us to leave you here?

SHEISA!!! I’d totally forgotten we’d be travelin’ thru the heart ‘O RASSCAR country as we first drove right past Memphis Motorsports Park, quickly followed by Bristol Motorsports Park… As well as passing’ the place that Elvis built after crossing one of the many nation’s major river’s. (Colorado, Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi, Potomac)

Later that afternoon, Clyde had a hunkerin’ for crackers… But NO! NOT just any ‘ol crackers; Crackers? We don’t want NO Stinkin’ Ritz crackers! NO, Clyde wanted Costco crackers… Thus we made a detour to the Nashville Costco, to which we were perplexed upon finding the parking lot completely devoid of any vehicles… HMM? Perhaps everybody’s either at the Grand ‘Ol Opry or the Nashville Super Speedway?

Back on the road again, it was time for Clyde’s second detour, as he’d decided that we’d stop in at the Interstate Trucking satellite headquarters in Lebanon, Tennessee and in honour of his brother Tommy, leave a token of appreciation… As in some free Cindy Sheehan T-Shirts. Of course we had NO idea where the building was as we drove around LOST in this little town for approximately one hour plus, with Clyde making repeated stops to ask unsuspecting proprietors and the local fire department in regards to the Interstate locale. Clyde finally got directions after stopping at a Trucking friendly motel and we set off West, back into the fast disappearing sunlight to Galveston Avenue, before pulling into the non descript business park, where Clyde told us to wait there as he’d be gone only uno momento… Mission Accomplished! Thus, we were able to turn back around and resume our easterly travel towards the Nation’s Capitol.

Staring into the darkness, we passed Knoxville, Tennessee before slipping into Virginia… To which I must confess I completely slept thru, not that Virginia is a boring state, but I was busy watching the backs of my eyeballs at this duration of the trip. Mary Ellen, whom seemed to get constantly stuck on the night shift of driving as the “Boyzs” were fast asleep, noted the overly disgusting number of Semi Trucks clogging the nation’s arteries… Proclaiming that it appeared to be a 2-3 to 1 ratio in the number of diesel trucks to cars on the Highway…

And to think we’re gonna wean ourselves off of our dependency of foreign oil, eh? I’m tending to think that the recent story of a Royal Dutch Shell executive’s statement; “American’s UN-Willing to give UP SUV’s” is most likely true. And you can read outgoing US Shell bosses story here if so inclined; President of U.S. operations questions predictions of peak theorists

Crossing the Potomac River, we arrived in the outskirts of Washington DC early Wednesday morning, stopping to make one of our numerous “Pit Stops,” before venturing into the big city. Pestering Clyde to stop for nourishment, we pulled into a Giant grocery store and while Mary Ellen and I roamed the aisles filling up our shopping cart, Clyde disappeared. Checking out, the cashier asked us if we had the requisite “Super Saver” card. To which I told her, nope, we’re from the other Washington, to which she replied’ have fun in this Washington…

Walking back to where the car was supposedly parked? Nope, it’s NOT there anymore… So Mary Ellen left me guarding the shopping cart while she went to scour the parking lot in case the car had been moved? Nope, NO sign whatsoever of the Buick… Oh whale, Clyde’s obviously run off somewhere, so, we’ll just eat our lunch now instead in front of the grocery store while waiting for Clyde to return… About 30 minutes later the Buick pulled up and honked at us, as Clyde had left us since we were taking too long shopping! He’d gone off to get some cash from an ATM machine, but managed instead to have Nelie’s card swallowed by the machine when he couldn’t remember the correct PIN.

Thus, we set off in search of the Navy Federal Credit bank which conveniently happened to be nearby, in order for Clyde to get some necessary dinero, before setting off in search of the Capitol, while instructing me to keep a look out for any Post Office’s…

Having found a non-descript Post Office, we next asked for directions and learned that we were heading towards Maryland… turning around we aimed towards the Downtown corridor of DC, with Clyde repeatedly asking where’s the Capitol? To which Mary Ellen proclaimed it’s right there… See the Dome? I thought Tomaso was the “Juan” with the eyesight problema… To which Clyde then kept asking us; “Where’s the Dome-thingy???” After trying to repeatedly park in Federal employees permit designated parking areas only, we finally secured a street side parking location just around the corner from the Capitol.

Now, we’d driven all the way from Texas to participate in a variety of events leading up to the Rally scheduled for that Saturday, with the first event being a Stop Loss demonstration on the Capitol’s steps. Yet, since Clyde hadn’t exactly explained what we were up too and I was filling groggy, we decided to stay in the car while Clyde went to investigate things… Drifting in and out of sleep between numerous police car/emergency vehicles sirens, we wondered if Clyde would be arrested, since he just loves causing trouble… As we’d learn later that twelve individuals, mostly kids on their Spring break had been arrested for sitting in the road and blocking traffic while trying to force Congress to stay in session, instead of going home for Easter break.

The ANTI WAR Rally was to be held in conjunction with the Winter Soldier hearings taking place in neighboring Maryland. This latest Winter Soldier effort was loosely modeled upon the first Winter Soldier hearings that occurred during the Vietnam War.

When I asked Clyde what it was all about? He replied that it was a take off of Continental soldier’s dereliction of duty during the Revolution. Thomas Payne subsequently wrote four pamphlets that were published in London during the Revolutionary years, which were aimed at restoring George Washington’s beleaguered forces morale. Payne’s first writing became a supposed rally cry for the forces retreating to Trenton, with Payne decreeing;

“These are the times that try men's souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.”

The Summer Soldier was a term applied to farmers who’d take up arms during the summer, but then return home to harvest their crops during the fall, while the Sunshine Patriots, were effectively fair weather fighters, who no longer wished to participate in the fighting when the going got tough, with many finding these actions treasoness…

(Payne’s series of four pamphlets entitled The American Crisis were published between 1776-1783)

About two hours later, Clyde returned to wake us from our mid-afternoon slumber and dropped a BOMBSHELL upon us. Guess what? The Rally’s been CANCELLED! What the FUCK??? Well, didn’t uze guys get the memo? Err, Clyde, why didn’t you read the FREAKIN’ memo before we left on this madcap dash across the country, SHEISA!!!

After giving some of the demonstrator’s a ride to the nearby police station to bail their accomplices outta the clink, we said our goodbyes and decided to get the HELL out of Dodge, Err, Washington DC… And thus began another two day drive home. Aye Karumba!

And ever noticed the longer you’re in a car with somebody the worse things tend to get? As Clyde actually told me late one evening on the way home that he was turning the radio’s speaker output ALL to my side and turning it up really LOUD ‘cause he knew I didn’t like having my eardrums blasted out, nice guy, eh?

Once again driving thru the darkness, I slept all the way thru Virginia (must be a really small state?) And the next morning awoke to have Clyde tell me we were passing the Atomic Raceway Park, a small dirt track venue paved with red clay.

Yet, this time Mary Ellen was determined to stop at Graceland for my benefit and she cried out, here come’s Graceland as we crossed the Mississippi River(?) with a giant Pyramid building next to it… Telling her I wouldn’t sing the Elvis song out loud I was currently humming to myself!

“Ah, Un-hun, Ah, Un-hun, A-Uh, I’m all shook up!”

As we took the turn off the freeway and headed for Elvis Presley Boulevard. Pulling into Graceland, we were told it would be $8 for parking, say what? Don’t you step on my blue suede shoes lady… Can we just go in and check-it out first?

So, there I was standing in Elvis’s parking lot having my photo snapped with one of his personal jets parked in the background, while Elvis music was blaring’ out of assorted speakers on nearby telephone poles, courtesy of Serious satellite’s Elvis Radio station. Turning around to leave, Mary Ellen said should I stop and ask for a brochure? Thus we were allowed to park briefly and go inside for more information. While the two of us found out that it was $32 for the entire premises or $27 for the mansion itself, Clyde was busy peein’ in Elvis’s parking lot…

Then again, Elvis was a big car nut as I tend to recall that he took personal delivery of “Juan ‘O ‘Ol Shel’s” AC Cobra’s. So, Mary Ellen asked if I wanted to go check out his car collection. With the price of admission being $8, but it was way too dimly lit, with almost everything being in the dark… SHEISA!!! I could have gotten all three of us into the Indianapolis Hall of Fame museum for the price of myself to walk about in the dark at Graceland!

With our Elvis stop out of the way, we were back on the road again… As bob Seeger’s On the Road Again song eerily played in the background, as I’d been allowed to reverse the Buick’s speaker’s sound direction… We continued our westerly course towards Austin and made Little Rock, Arkansas by late evening. Yet, as we approached Mary Ellen commented that a storm was brewing ahead… To the likes of I have never witnessed, as we were engulfed in a massive Thunder ‘N Lightning storm, with torrential rainfall, as Mary Ellen said the only thing the lightning was good for was lighting up the road! Hey, you frillin’ truckers, SLOW THE HELL DOWN! Pulling off underneath an overpass, as it was simply too hard to see where we were going… As Mary Ellen pointed out the poor sod on a “Crotch-rocket” parking under an overpass… We witnessed over a dozen Emergency vehicles passing by our hideaway,

Then Mary Ellen elected to let Clyde drive in the storm for awhile… As we finally arrived back in Austin mid Friday morning, thus in regards to having just spent four consecutive days in an automobile for a whole two hours in Washington DC, I’m struck by the INSANITY of the closing scene in Smokey in the Bandit, where Burt Reynolds takes the bet to bring them Good ‘Ol Boyzs back some New England clam chowder in under 48hrs in their hurkin’ Cadillac Eldorado convertible with Texas steer horns on the hood…

TERRLINGA ROAD RASH

Pictures
Top) Clifford Antone; Bottom) Stevie Ray Vaughn

Having taken a two hour cruise aboard three Metro busses to the airport, which I must admit is pretty damn cool that you can go some very long distances between three Counties for only a $1.50 fare, I noticed that there was an extremely long line for check-in at the American Airlines ticket counter. Thus I decided to go to the front of the line to inquire which airline I should check-in at since the first leg of my trip was an American Airlines flight being operated by Alaska Samoan…

With my trusty white cane in hand I had the Alaska Airlines check-in counter girl assist me with the requisite printing of boarding passes and asking for assistance to the corresponding gate. We breezed thru security, although for the very first time there was something wrong with my hiking boots as the TSA goon said “Hold it, I need to run those boots again!”

Always a first time for something new during our RIDICULOUS Airport Security measures, which I don’t know why, but when I hear them say things like that I instantly hear those famous K Mart words… Can I get a price check on aisle three as I feel like we’re all cordoning up for another Blue Light special!

After waiting for over an hour at my gate, it was time to pre-board the aircraft and as I handed my boarding pass to the gate attendant she said; “That isn’t gonna work.” Excuse me? They’ve put you in an Emergency exit aisle window seat sir… Thus, I could not believe it, as I was upgraded to First Class! Which I’ve never had the privilege of sitting in before, Damn! These seats are nice ‘N roomy. Is that real rich Corinthian leather? And SHEISA! The flight attendant just handed me a real glass glass of OJ. As well as free snacks, as the man sitting next to me struck up a conversation and made some crack about TSA, before back pedaling, to which my reply was that my only complaint is the ridiculous amount of inconsistency.

Riddle me this; How come I can fly all the way home from Sasebo, Japan, passing thru two separate Japanese cities security gates WITHOUT ever having to remove my footwear, but they needed to screen my boots twice in Seattle. Perhaps I should have been singing these boots are made for walking, walking all over me…

After changing flights in Santa Anna, CA at the Duke’s place, as in John Wayne airport, I was back to my standard fair of being in the cheap seats towards the rear of the aeroplane… Touching down in Austin, Texas at 10:30PM, I was last off the jet while awaiting assistance to baggage. The gate attendant walked me up the gang plank where I stood waiting for my assistance, being informed that it had gone to the wrong gate! While standing in the nearly empty airport, one of the flight attendants disembarking our aircraft stopped at the check-in counter and asked me; “You did want to go to Austin, sir?” (Good thing she was asking me now, eh?)

My assistance finally arrived and as we walked towards baggage I noticed that the place seemed deserted and the majority of lights were turned off. Oh, that’s because we’ve sent everybody home since all of the flights to Dallas have been cancelled due to its seven inch accumulation of SNOW! Yet, as we went down the escalator, she said there’s your family sir, as Nelie was waving at us… As it’s always good to have the person you’re meeting on the other end waiting for you when you arrive…

The next morning, I awoke to an empty apartment after having slept in, as “Bonnie ‘N Clyde” had both gone to work. When staying with Clyde & Nelie the first time in Sasebo, we broke into hysterics when two young Japanese school girls asked us; ‘Where is bonnie,” upon Clyde introducing us.

That afternoon there was the usual annoying knock of Clyde on the door, saying open up Arse-hole! Nelie’s locked me out. So I let Clyde in who was just dropping by between his School Bus runs in order to get something to drink… (Doesn’t everybody leave a yellow school bus idling in front of their domicile?)

Returning back to my book on tape… About 10 minutes later there was another similar knocking on the door. On the second annoying knock as I’d left the door unlocked, I got up and opened it, thinking Clyde must have forgotten something? Thus I was surprised to have a woman standing at the door. When I asked her what she wanted, she started jabbering away in a really bad English or Tagalic dialect. Since I couldn’t understand a single word she said.

Then the next thing I knew, she’d stepped around me and was now standing inside the apartment pointing towards the back of the unit… Still totally unsure of what she was gesturing at?

she simply walked into the bathroom, pulled her pants down and proceeded to go to the bathroom without closing the door!!! Oh crap, I DON’T NEED TO SEE ANY OF THAT!!! Aye Carumba…

Then she simply left, as I was speechless and all I could think of was “Welcome to Texas!”

Although we’d originally planned to leave for Washington DC on either Saturday or Sunday, our plans were pushed back and hence, Clyde took an extra day’s worth of driving on Saturday. For entertainment, Nelie drove me to the Capitol of Texas, which happened to be just down the street as they’re living just off of South Congress street which dead ends at the Capitol building. We managed to arrive just-in-time for the daily tour of the Capitol building which was finished in 1888. And I was glad that we’d decided to go check out this place, as the tour guide was most informative upon the doings of the Austin legislature.

Afterwards, Nelie and I walked around quite a bit trying to find the entrance to the underground foyer’s (Levels U1-U2) as there’s a very cool open air circular courtyard at the end of these underground offices. The two underground levels lead to the outside courtyard and are framed of rich granite archways which immediately made me think of Italy… (Which turns out to be exactly what the Architects intended) And the courtyard has a giant ceramic Texas emblem in the center of it.

Later that evening we proceeded to go check out Clyde’s boat over at his friend Paul & Jackie’s house, before driving to the famous Salt Lick restaurant in Hayne County, which we discovered is a “Dry” county, although the barbeque food was very good, we all agreed later that it wasn’t worth the hour and a half wait…

Sunday morning as we awaited Mary Ellen’s arrival from Mexico City, Mexico… Clyde had offered to give Oliver another driving lesson. Of course we were one hour late, since Nelie & Clyde didn’t believe me when I told them that we’d be “Springing Ahead” 1hr at 2AM Saturday night… So, when we arrived to pick-up Oliver he said you’re one hour late, man… But Oliver who’s from the Congo was very happy to be driving Clyde’s automobile.

Being from the Congo, Oliver had never seen or been around automobiles his whole life… But now he and his brother Alexander are most determined to learn and join this American past time… Yet, things definitely seemed to get lost in translation. After making Oliver drive backwards around the storage locker, while Clyde and I looked for Nelie’s table, I made the mistake of asking Clyde; Do you have to parallel park for the Texas driving exam? Yeah, that’s a good idea, to which Clyde tried verbally explaining to Oliver, who’s fluent in French and English is his third language? No, Clyde why don’t you show him… Well, just because I know it doesn’t mean I can do it… To which we set up some dummy cars made up of some of the various boxes in storage we were currently wading thru. Yet Oliver couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of what the car’s wheels are doing in relation to reversing direction and next thing we knew he was putting a dent into the Buick and an even larger dent into the adjoining storage unit!

As Mark Knoffler sang long, long, ago… “Sunday driver never took a test, Only in the wild, wild, West!”

Then we made the first of many mad dashes… Off to the Rodeo to hear George “NO-SHOW” Jones, who was preceded by the rodeo… With the highlight being the children’s sheep riding contest! Yes, they actually had kids trying to ride sheep… And you may insert your Montana Sheep joke’s here, if so desired? Then Clyde left to go pick-up Mary Ellen, while Nelie and I watched more of the Rodeo action.

Later that evening, we ventured Downtown to Antone’s to check out an excellent band; Del Castillo, who reminded me a bit of The Los Lonely Boys, as I was totally unaware of the significance of this music establishment, Mary Ellen explained that Clifford Antone was instrumental in establishing Austin’s reputation for music and his House of Blues had hosted many significant performers as well as Clifford playing bass guitar with some of the legends to grace his club.

The A-list names included the likes of; Fats Domino, John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters, Albert Collins, Buddy Guy, Delbert McClinton, Pinetop Perkins and BB King just to name a few as Mary Ellen read off some of the autographs hanging from the club’s walls.

I was also unaware of the fact that Clifford was the driving force behind Stevie Ray Vaughn’s career, as he’d coerced Albert King into letting Stevie sit-in on a session at his club one night when Stevie was currently only known as Jimmy Vaughn’s little brother… And the rest is history! Yet, Clifford was also instrumental in furthering the careers of Albert Collins, Jimmy Vaughn, Double Trouble and The Fabulous Thunderbirds.

Clifford was also quick to react to Hurricane Katrina, being one of the very first to host an All Star benefit in 2005 called; Neighbors in Need.

Walking back to the car, Clyde took great satisfaction in the fact that he noticed a brand new Ford F150 pick-up and shiny black Audi sedan both completely covered in bird shit from the flourishing Grackle population…

The Luck ‘O the Irish

I recently heard a pair of comedians making fun of VHS’s “Hit Show; Where are they now?”” Claiming this show was cruel and degrading to the entire one hit wonders who now are working in ungratifying desk jobs.

Yet I did enjoy reading a past Linksheaven posting about where various ex-Formula 1 driver’s had gone off to, thus I decided to do a where’d they go rendition of the Irish drivers just profiled on St. Pattie’s day…

Rosemary Smith
This vivacious “Irish lass” whose good looks saw her dress designing career take a back seat as a model before her mother put her foot down and demanded she make use of her designing talents, ended up racing cars instead, after being bitten by the lure of driving fast. Upon her marriage, her husband demanded that she give up her ego trips and hence, Smith retired from racing. Yet, the wail of motor racing could not be extinguished and after the marriage failed, she once again returned to the cockpit and still competes in selected events today, taking part in the Goodwood Revival, along with making trips to Sebring. Rosemary now runs an organization promoting road safety and good driving practice to Irish teenagers

John Watson
Upon retiring from Formula 1, Wattie tried his hand in Endurance racing, along with running a driving school at Silverstone. Afterwards, he became an F1 commentator for Eurosport from 1991-97, then moved to calling the British Touring Car Championship alongside Charlie Cox for the BBC.

Wattie now keeps busy by calling the action of the A1 GP for Sky Sports with Ben Edwards and served as the honorary Grand Marshal at last year’s Zippo Historics at Watkins Glen.

Eddie Jordan
The zenith of this plucky Irishman’s dream of Grand Prix grandeur occurred in 1999, when Jordan Grand Prix finished third in the Constructor’s championship on the back of Heinz Harald Frentzen’s two victories. EJ’s team would ultimately score four Grand Prix wins before funding dried up to the extent that Eddie was forced to sell his beloved team to Carl Schnaider, whom in turn re-branded the team MF1 Racing.

Jordan still keeps himself busy with motor racing by writing a column for F1 Racing magazine along with having been named director of Rally Ireland, part of the World Rally Championship. He recently finished a TV series titled; Eddie Jordan’s Bad Boy Racers.

For recreation, Eddie has played the drums for a number of years in his band first known as V10 and now plays with a revised troupe known as Eddie and the Robbers. He also enjoys Golf and Horse Racing, along with a keen interest in Football, having a season ticket for Glasgow Celtic FC.

EJ also has business interests in V10, a brand of Vodka, along with the energy drink EJ10 and has just written his autobiography; an Independent Man, which was published in 2007.

Derrick Daly
After a somewhat successful career in Formula 1, unable to land a ride in Grand Prix, Daly moved Across the Pond and began competing in the CART/PPG championship in 1983. Derek contested six Indianapolis 500’s (1983-85, ’87-89) before moving to Endurance racing. I believe that Derrick drove briefly for Jaguar before finishing out his Sports Car career with Nissan in the all conquering 300ZXT’s.

Daly next moved to a career as a television commentator for motor racing, covering both Champ Car and the Indy 500. His antics as a colour commentator for Champ Car were noticeable, as Daly’s role has now been reduced to covering just the Indy 500 alongside SPEED’s Robin Miller, although Daly still works for local TV in Indianapolis.

Derrick has also owned a driving school in Las Vegas, along with several other business interests including his motivational company Motorvation. Currently, he’s mentoring his son’s racing career, has taken to road racing track designing and has just released a book title Race to win.

Tommy Byrne
Although Tommy was the second most successful driver in the long defunct American Racing Series and spent considerable time in the States, he never was given the opportunity to race in Champ Car and retired from motor racing in 1992. He’s since taken up residency in Florida, but runs a Teen defensive driving program at the Mid Ohio race track nine months a year.

Martin Donnelly
With many of us fearing the worse upon Donnelly being forcefully ejected from his race car that fateful day, Donnelly miraculously survived the horrific shunt, although he’d be crippled for life.

Martin then went on to manage a Formula Vauxhall team before being coaxed back into the cockpit, racing a Mazda RX8 in a 2004 Britsport 24 hours race at Silverstone, finishing in 27th place.

. He then took task to competing in Lotus track days, after first being invited to a club outing in 2006. In 2007 Donnelly bested 35 fellow competitors enroute to winning the Elise Tourist Cup, scoring two A Division victories. Donnelly currently spends time as a driver development coach for ComTech Racing as well as working at Lotus track day outings.

Eddie Irvine
Although many consider him a playboy and he certainly seems to fancy this role, “Irv the Swerve” was reported to be the fifth richest person of Ireland in 2006, having grown a portfolio of 40+ properties towards a net worth of $160 million.

Yet, Irvine continues to relish his celebrity status, having recently done a television reality show on Sky TV with his team of male drivers competing against David Coulthard’s team of female drivers. Eddie also played himself in the 2004 comedy film; The prince and me. Irv also had a brief romance with Pamela Anderson, who called the courtship off, claiming that Eddie was too sweet for her…

Irvine has also tried unsuccessfully to acquire an ownership stake in various Formula 1 teams. His previous attempts included Minardi in 2005 and Jordan in 2005-06, reportedly with Russian Vodka Czar Routsam Tariko and there are now rumours that Irv the Swerve could be potentially sniffing around Super Aguri.

Ralph Firman
After a thoroughly disappointing season in Formula 1 with the faltering Jordan Grand Prix team, Ralph contested the 2004 24 Heurs du Mans alongside Justin Wilson and Tom Coronel, along with being the official test driver for the A1 GP series, before driving for Team Ireland in 2005. In 2007 Firman and Daisuke Ito won the Japan Super GT GT 500 class for Aguri Suzuki’s co-owned ART team, becoming the first drivers to win the class prior to the end of the season…

Blarney

Aw shucks, I just realized that it’s Saint Patrick’s Day, you know when you’re supposed to pinch somebody when they’re NOT wearing’ green, OUCH! Mary Ellen…

So with that in mind, I thought I’d pay homage to those plucky Irishmen who’ve boldly sat behind the wheel of a Formula 1 rocket ship and see just who’s “Kissed the Blarney stone” and who’s found the luck ‘O the Irish or the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, eh?


Rosemary Smith
Years: 1959-1969
(Rally)

Rosemary Smith actually had no intentions of being a racing driver, instead focusing upon becoming a fashion designer. Yet a co-worker enticed her to be her navigator in a rally and after getting hopelessly lost from holding the map upside down, Smith took over the wheel and became enthralled with driving. Smith then went onto a very successful Rally career as a “Works” driver for the Roots group, winning several class victories aboard different makes. Smith was denied entry into the 24 Heurs du Mans due to her gender and curtailed her driving career upon getting married.

John Watson
Years: 1973-83, 1985
Teams: Brabham, Penske, McLaren
Starts: 152
Wins: 5
Poles: 2
Points: 169

John “Wattie” Watson is considered to be the most successful Irish Formula 1 driver, having scored Grand Prix victories for Penske and McLaren, while being let down several times by the Brabham-Alfa Romeo. (V-12)

The son of a successful car broker, Watson began his Formula 1 career after graduating from Formula 2, debuting in the British Grand Prix with the “Privateer” Goldie Hexagon Racing team. Wattie also made a “one-off” aboard Brabham’s third works entry at Watkins Glen that season.

Watson briefly drove for the declining Surtees team before joining Penske as Mark Donohue’s replacement in mid 1974. Ironically “Wattie” scored Roger Penske’s lone Formula 1 victory exactly one year after Donohue’s death at Austria. Upon winning the race, he shaved off his beard as part of a bet he’d made with “The Captain.”

Moving to Brabham for three seasons (1976-78) upon Penske’s withdrawal from F1, Wattie eclipsed the performance of his World Champion teammate Niki Lauda in ’78 before moving to McLaren in 1979.

Watson was recruited to McLaren after their newly signed driver Ronnie Peterson had perished in the 1978 Italian Grand Prix. The Ulsterman would finish out his career with the Woking based squad, scoring the first victory under the new management of Ron Dennis in 1981.

Wattie’s best Formula 1 season came in 1982 with two victories, while enroute to finishing third in the championship, behind Ferrari’s Didier Pironi and World Champion teammate Keke Rosberg.


Eddie Jordan
Edmond “EJ” Jordan originally planned on being a Dentist, but wound up as a bank clerk instead, upon dropping out of college. Going to work for the Bank of Ireland, during a strike in Dublin, Jordan was sent to the “Isle of Jersey,” a reputed French tax haven where EJ caught the “Racing Bug” while attending a karting hill climb event.

Returning to Dublin, EJ bought a kart and won the Irish karting Championship, followed by a stint in Formula Ford 1600 in 1974. The next year saw Jordan move to Britain where he broke both legs at the end of the season and missed the following year while recuperating.

In 1977, EJ bought a used Formula Atlantic chassis and ultimately won the Irish Championship in 1978 before teaming up with Swedish “Hot Schue, Stevie Johnson,” (A.k.a. Stefan Johansson) for a crack at the British F3 Championship in 1979 for Team Ireland. Jordan also drove a F2 race car at Donnington Park that year along with testing a McLaren Formula 1 chassis at the end of the season.

Yet, while struggling to fund his driving career, EJ set up Eddie Jordan Racing and began campaigning race cars in 1981 for aspiring F3 and F3000 drivers before ultimately forming Jordan Grand Prix in 1991.

Derrick Daly
Years: 1978-82
Teams: Hesketh, Ensign, Tyrrell, March, Theodore, Williams
Starts: 49
Wins: 0
Poles: 0
Points: 15

This feisty Irishman from Dublin worked his way up thru the ladder of racing to Formula 1 the old fashioned way, by sheer driving talent.

Daly cut his racing teeth driving stock cars in Ireland before heading “Down Under” to work in the Tin mines to pay for his future single seater career. Daly’s name first came to prominence upon winning the 1976 Formula Ford festival which landed him a ride in Formula 3 the following season where he won the British championship. IN 1978 Daly raced in Formula 2, winning twice while trying to graduate into Formula 1 which he did with the hesketh team, before scoring his first point upon finishing 6th at Canada for Mo Nunn’s Ensign team.

In 1979 Derek switched to Ron Dennis’s Project 4 team aboard an ICI sponsored March/BMW in Formula 2, finally winning a race towards the end of the season, while continuing to drive for Ensign in Formula 1.

Ken Tyrrell then offered Daly a third team entry for that year’s Canadian GP, which turned into a full time offer for 1980. Derek made quite a splash upon crashing into a hoard of spectators at the Monaco Grand Prix, after flipping several times. This accident garnered team sponsor Candy world wide attention.

Daly then drove for the RAM F1 team in 1981 with a reconstituted March 811 chassis designed by Robin Herd with BMW engines, which were essentially clones of the Williams FW07 ground effects car. Following a disappointing season, Daly moved to the Theodore team for 1982 before finally getting his big break at Williams upon Carlos Reutmann’s retirement. Daly was subsequently let go in order to make room for Jacques Lafite in 1983 and moved stateside to contest the CART/PPG championship.

Tommy Byrne
Year: 1982
Team: Theodore
Starts: 2
Wins: 0
Poles: 0
Points: 0

Tommy Byrne made his name in the lower rungs of single seater racing, first impressing in Formula Fords in 1981. Byrne made the jump straightaway to F1 in 1982, albeit winning that year’s British F3 Championship while missing races to contest Formula 1 with the struggling Theodore team. Byrne appeared in the German and Las Vegas Grand Prix’s.

Byrne briefly returned to F3 before moving to the states and competing in the American Racing Series, (ARS) forbearer to the defunct Indy Lights series. Byrne contested the ARS from 1986-92, winning 10 races in 55 starts. (2nd in series victories) Tommy raced against such luminaries as Jon Beekhuis with his ARS best results twice in 1988-89 as the series runner-up.

Martin Donnelly
Years: 1989-90
Teams: Arrows, Lotus
Starts: 13
Wins: 0
Poles: 0
Points: 0

Born in Belfast, Martin Donnelly made his mark in the junior ranks of single seater racing, winning the Cellnet award in 1988, awarded to Britain's most promising young driver. Donnelly finished third in the British Formula 3 Championship two years in a row. (1987-88) Driving for “EJ,” (1988-89) Donnelly then contested the European Formula 3000 Championship alongside Johnny Herbert, winning three races before moving to the Arrows Grand Prix team,

Donnelly made his Formula 1 debut in the 1989 French Grand Prix and after his debut season with Arrows, switched to Lotus for 1990.
Unfortunately the Ulsterman’s F1 career was cut short upon attempting to qualify for the 1990 Spanish GP.

When I think of Donnelly, I still can vividly recall seeing that bright yellow Camel Lotus Lamborghini (V-12) exploding into a million pieces… As this horrific shunt is one of the most rueling accidents I’ve seen via the “Telie” while watching Grand Prix, as the car simply disintegrated with poor Donnelly lying in the middle of the road strapped to his seat.

Eddie Irvine
Years: 1993-2002
Teams: Jordan, Ferrari, Jaguar
Starts: 148
Wins: 4
Poles: 0
Points: 191

“Irv the Swerve” gained this illustrious nickname for his unique driving style. Having been born into racing as his father was an amateur racer; Edmund first plied his hands at the wheel of his father’s historic racing cars before trotting up the traditional ladder route of most top flight drivers. Irvine’s laid back style confused many, but Marlboro was willing to appoint the Irishman a spot in its young lion’s program and Irvine progressed from Formula Fords and Formula 3 before his career sputtered to a halt in International F3000 competition.

Eddie then moved to Japan to contest the Japanese F3000 series where he won several races and made lots of money which he used to obtain a drive for Eddie Jordan in the 1993 Formula 1 season’s final two events.

Making his debut in F1 at Suzuka, a track he knew well, Irvine garnered world wide attention when he un-lapped himself from Ayrton Senna who punched the Irishman after the race for his overtaking maneuver. When asked why he’d repassed Senna, Irvine replied that Ayrton was simply driving too slowly!

This brand of insolence that Irv the Swerve would become famous for most likely netted him a three race ban in 1993 after EJ had appealed the steward’s decision to give Irvine a one race suspension after triggering a four car pile-up which sent Jos “THE BOSS” Verstappen skywards.

Thus it was surprising when Ferrari announced that Michael Schumacher’s teammate for 1996 would be the laid back Irishman, whom was always good for a quip while puffing away on a Marlboro cigarette. Yet ’96 was truly a learning year for Irvine, as his baptism under fire taught him just how blindingly quick the German ace was. Eddie kept plodding away, improving each season, ultimately winning his first grand prix in Australia in 1999.

Then when Schumacher suffered a broken leg in Silverstone that summer, Irvine was suddenly thrust into the spotlight as the Scuderia’s sole hope for capturing the World Championship that season. Eddie went on to record a further three victories and trailed eventual World Champion Mika Hakkinen by two points going into the penultimate race. Yet Irvine would come up short with Hakkinen securing his second Driver’s title that season.

Irvine’s breakout season enabled him to sign a lucrative three year contract as lead driver for Jaguar beginning in 2000, although the British team was a disappointment, due to inadequate machinery. At the end of Irvine’s contract in 2002, Ford decided to drop Irvine, with nobody else interested in the Irishman’s services, Eddie found himself out of Formula 1.

Ralph Firman
Year: 2003
Team: Jordan
Starts: 14
Wins: 0
Poles: 0
Points: 1

Ralph Firman Jr’s father founded the Van Diemen production racing Car Company and Ralph began his racing career at the age of 11 before winning the British karting title four years later. In 1993 he switched to single seaters joining Paul Stewart Racing to contest Formula Vauxhall Junior. Finishing fourth overall, along with landing a test drive with McLaren,In 1996 Ralph won the British Formula 3 championship in his second try with PSR,

Unable to break into Formula 1, Firman headed to Japan where he ultimately won the Formula Nippon title with Nakajima Racing in 2002. Utilizing his Japanese ties along with landing a testing role with BAR, Firman finally gained a ride in F1 for Eddie Jordan’s Mugen-Honda powered squad in 2003. Ralph managed to score a single point as well as having to sit out two races after a huge shunt at the Hunga-boring race. After a largely disappointing rookie campaign, Ralph found himself once again out of Formula 1…

Women at Sebring

On March 15th, the 56th running of the Mobil 1 12 Hours of Sebring will be held. And while Audi will be seeking to re-establish it’s dominance over the competition with its R10TDI turbo diesel’s, hopefully the Peugeot 908 and LMP2 class Porsche RS Spyder’s and ARC 01B Acura’s can give the Audi juggernaut some competition.

Instead of trying to give a overview of the various teams participating, which I’ve previously done in Sebring redux, I’d like to focus on something a little different instead.

Many moons before I was introduced into the wonderful world of motor racing, an American heiress cracked the gender barrier by becoming the very first female to compete in the twelve hours of Sebring. She was the blonde Isabelle Haskell, who made her Sebring debut in 1955 prior to marrying Alejandro De Tomaso.

Haskell’s maiden outing wasn’t successful, as she failed to finish the event and apparently skipped the next year’s event after tragedy struck her co-driver aboard a Porsche 550 spyder in Europe. Newly married in 1957, the newlyweds not only shared their wedding vows, but also contested several international racing events as a driving duo. Their second attempt at Sebring also proved fruitless, once again failing to finish.

In 1958 with her husband Alejandro and new co-driver Robert Ferguson, Isabelle finally broke her duck at Sebring when the trio aboard a 750 OSCA finished eighth overall enroute to scoring a class win.

1959 would prove to be Isabelle’s final season of major competition and for the occasion she once again teamed with Alejandro and new co-drivers Denise McCluggage and Ricardo Rodriguez, where the quartet finished eighteenth overall at Sebring in their trusty OSCA.

In 1970, nearly three decades before it would become in vogue at the Speedway, three female drivers set out to accomplish something that had never been done before on the lumpy, bumpy, torturous concrete laden vintage airfield that forms the basis of Sebring International Raceway by becoming the very first all female driver line-up in the prestigious event.

These three females came from different racing backgrounds, with American Janet Guthrie arguably becoming the most famous of the trio, enroute to becoming the very first woman to compete in the Indy 500 and Daytona 500. Guthrie was joined by another Yank, Judy Ganley who was an accomplished SCCA racer from the San Francisco bay area, rounding out the driving triumberant was Roots works team rally driver Rosemary Smith. This Irish lass was originally a fashion designer and model before being exposed to rallying by a female patron of hers. Driving a Le Mans Sprite Prototype, they scored a class win and 19th overall in the Sebring 12 Hour race.

In 2004 another all female trio from Europe gained favour with the British public, becoming affectionately known as :Les Femmes Pour Le Mans," planning to enter that year’s Sebring 12hrs race in a TVR 400R. The press release noted that Amanda Stretton, Liz Halliday and a third female to be named later would make up the driving strength. Although Stretton did indeed contest that year’s event, apparently Le Femmes plans fell thru as Halliday did not participate.

Another notable female named Milka Duno was taking part in that year’s Mobil 1 twelve hours endurance race, pairing with ex-Formula 1 British driver Justin Wilson and Phil Andrews aboard a Lola B2K10/Judd V-10, finishing 22nd overall.

And it’s funny to me how the perky Venezuelan has garnered all of the attention as the latest media darling at the Speedway, while Halliday is every bit of the accomplished driver if not more so? While Milka has a total of five Master’s degrees, Halliday is a world class equestrian hoping to represent the USA in the 2008 summer Olympics.

Halliday is the daughter of Don Halliday, a racing driver in his own right, as well as being a winning CART/Fed Ex championship race engineer, who also designed the Truesports 91C race car chassis.

While Milka gets all of the credit for being the highest finishing woman at the Rolex 24, finishing second overall, Liz is the only female to win in American Le Mans Series competition, notching six LMP2 class victories along with finishing second overall aboard the Interscope Lola in the 2006 Sebring 12 Hours. Last year, Halliday contested the event behind the wheel of Team Modena’s Aston Martin DBR9…

Little Big Horn

Out here on the ponderosa, we are stone, immaculate. As I wanna tell yuh ‘bout Texas radio and the big beat…

As I’m told everything’s bigger in Texas, thus I’ve decided to make my very first pilgrimage to the Lone Star state, just to see what all the fuss is about.

Of course some of motor racings biggest names come from Texas, names you’re probably familiar with, such as Carroll Shelby, Jim Hall, Lloyd Ruby, Johnny Rutherford and AJ Foyt…


Carroll Shelby
What can I say about this automotive icon? As the tall lanky Texan Chicken farmer cut his teeth as a racing driver in bib overalls while flogging private owner’s saloons in local SCCA events, Yet Shelby would rise rapidly thru the ranks to ultimately win the 24 Heurs du Mans for Aston Martin in 1959 before retiring as a race driver.

Yet, Carroll, along with Jim Hall, Roger Penske, and Lloyd Ruby also tried their hand at Formula 1, by taking part in various Grand Prix’s during the early 1960’s, albeit with unsatisfactory results.

Meanwhile, ‘Old Shell was using some of his magic Snake Oil to convince Lee Iacocca and AC Cars to give him the raw materials to complete what would come to be known as the Cobra. This car would be the launching towards Shelby’s immortality as a Ford racing legend, as Carroll would debark upon beating his arch nemesis Enzo Ferrari in International endurance racing, by becoming the only American manufacturer to win the World Sports Car championship in 1965 with his Cobra Daytona Coupes, after having told Enzo the previous year; “You’re ass is mine!”


Ford was so impressed that they had Carroll put the “Shelby Touch” to the Mustang and ultimately the GT 40 programs, as Shelby GT 350 Mustangs dominated SCCA B Production and Shelby won Le Mans in 1966-67 with the vaunted Mark II & Mark IV’s.

1966 was the year that the GT 40’s crossed the line 1-2-3 in the bungled photo op which ultimately gave the victory to Bruce McLaren & Chris Amon over the expected pairing of Ken Miles & Denny Hulme. The ’67 victory was shared by AJ Foyt & Dan Gurney whom impromptly sprayed champagne in victory circle, thereby starting another racing tradition.

Shelby was also instrumental in Ford’s factory backed Trans Am efforts, winning the championship twice with Jerry Titus as well as running such luminary drivers as Parnelli Jones, Peter Revson, Dan Gurney and Sam Posey,

Yet, not one to stand still, Shelby tried working his magic on the Toyota 2000GT’s, but ultimately wasn’t given enough time and has since stuck to fanning the flames of his namesake by being a key representative at multiple Shelby American Automobile Club events.

Jim Hall
Born in Abilene, Texas, Hall is most notably recognized as the creator of the bone white Chaparral Sports Cars that were the most innovative of their time in regards to cutting edge aerodynamics, as Hall was a leading pioneer in this arena. Based out of Midland, Texas, the Chaparrals were always thorns in the two mighty behemoths (Ford vs. Ferrari) quest for overall victory. Hall also contested the Can Am and Trans Am series and was the Trans Am champion in 1969.

Hall also was a leader of ground effects in Indy Car racing with his revolutionary Yellow Submarine Indy cars designed by John Barnard, which won the Indy 500 twice in 1978 and 1980 with Al Unser Sr and Johnny Rutherford respectively.

Lloyd Ruby
While looking up information on this Texas gunslinger, I’ve discovered that Lloyd has just celebrated his 80th birthday on January 12th.

I’ve known of Ruby’s name from his exploits as one of ‘Old Shel’s hired guns during the Ford Motor Co. factory backed GT40 days, when Lloyd won the Daytona Continental, 12 Hours of Sebring and 24 Hours of Daytona with Ken Miles while being part of the vaunted Shelby American racing team. He also took part in International racing by competing in the ’67 24 Heurs du Mans with Formula 1 World Champion Denny Hulme as his co-driver, while claiming he’d never drank so much wine as when in France with Super Tex.

Yet, Ruby was also an accomplished Indy Car driver, contesting the USAC championship trail from 1958-77, making 177 starts and contested the Indianapolis 500 from 1960-77. Ruby won seven USAC races and was known as the greatest driver to never win Indy, having missed out several times due to mechanical woes. Lloyd was quite the accomplished driver, having cut his teeth as a Midget pilot and loosing count of his total victories after 200!

Johnny Rutherford
Although born in Kansas, Rutherford grew up in Texas and somewhere along the line, when told he needed a nickname, the moniker “Lone Star JR” was anointed upon him. Rutherford, like most drivers of his time, started by racing midgets before getting his shot in the big cars of the USAC Championship Car trail.

While Rutherford was searching for a ride, Team McLaren was searching for a driver and they hooked up with each other, ultimately garnering Lone Star JR his first two Indianapolis 500 victories. (1974, 76) Rutherford then joined Jim Hall’s Indycar effort when Big Al (Unser Sr) decided to no longer drive for him, in the recalcitrant “Yellow Submarine.” Yet Rutherford was able to blitz the field enroute to his third Indy 500 victory in 1980 with the revolutionary ground effects chassis, becoming one of only a handful of drivers with three Borg Warner trophies to their credit.

Rutherford also became one of the youngest drivers ever to win a RASSCAR points race, when he won one of the qualifiers for the Daytona 500 aboard a Smokey Yunick prepared race car. Lone Star JR retired from racing prior to the 1994 Indy 500 and has served as the IRL’s pace car driver since the leagues inception, with the exception of the Indy 500 pace car duties. Rutherford has recently been appointed to the Board of Directors for the Harold E. Lemay museum.

AJ Foyt
Arguably the greatest American race car driver ever, Anthony Joseph Foyt Jr dropped out of school in order to become a mechanic, prior to beginning his illustrious racing career as a midget racer. Foyt went on to accomplish a list of statistics that will probably never be eclipsed in the world of Open Wheel racing, as Foyt has the most USAC victories, 138 which surpasses the late Rich Volgler’s tally of 132.


AJ also won seven times in RASSCAR, including the 1972 Daytona 500, as well as winning several major Sports Car endurance races; the Daytona 24 Hours, (twice) 12 Hours of Sebring and 24 Heurs du Mans. The funniest part about his victories in the Daytona 24hrs, is that he didn’t want to drive with any damn Frenchmen, i.e.; Bob Wolleck aboard Al Holbert’s dominating Lowenbrau sponsored Porsche 962. Yet, supposedly his last major career victory was the 1985 Sebring 12hrs with yep, you guessed it, Monsieur Wolleck.

Yet Super Tex is best known for his exploits behind the wheel of a Indycar, in which he made a record 374 starts enroute to an amazing 67 victories. Foyt is the only driver to win the Indy 500 in a front and rear engine racecar, becoming the very last front engine victor in 1964. AJ was also the very first driver to win the Indianapolis 500 four times, (1961, ‘64, ‘67 and ’77) a feat shared by only two other drivers; Al Unser Sr and Rick Mears.

On his way to his massive victory tally, Foyt won an unprecedented seven USAC National Championships as well as making a record 35 starts at the Speedway. Yet, Foyt will always be idyllically etched in my memory for his outside the cockpit antics. Like when he beat the hell outta a recalcitrant turbo pop off valve with a Craftsman ratchet, or when he destroyed an engineers lap top confuzer in the pit lanes after his car had run out of petrol. Or when he decked Arie Luyendyk in victory lane and to this day refuses to give the Flying Dutchman his winner’s trophy! And that’s not to mention his various bulldozer follies, which have almost cost him his life twice…

What should the IndyCar World Series Comprise?

I’m guessing we’ve all heard this before; which came first, the Chicken or the Egg? The Roadrunner or the Coyote?

Or Oval tracks vs. Road Courses, which seemingly digresses into are you a “Meat ‘N Potatoes” type of guy or “Juan ‘O Dem” Wine ‘N Cheese types? You know, are you a Hard chargin’ take no prisoners Roundy-round good ‘Ol boy or “Juan ‘O Dem” string back glove gentlemen who like’s his martini; Shaken, not stirred…

Which inevitably leads us to the question of Ovals vs. Road Courses, as some fans are urging Mr. George to NOT meld the united series into CART Lite, claiming Tony should stay true to his original vision of an ALL Oval series which would “Taste Great and be Less Filling;” As originally the Indy Racing League would cost less and cater primarily to American Open Wheel drivers…

Yet, I’ll leave it up to you to decide which Tastes great or is Less filling? Since a quick look in my history book reveals that the Championship Auto Racing Teams organization derived from the United States Auto Club sanctioning body originally began as an ALL Oval Track series with the exception of one road course, the wonderful Watkins Glen International in upstate New York.

The 1979 CART season consisted of 14 events being held at seven venues, comprising of shorter dual “Sprint” races and longer endurance events, i.e.; 500 miles. Yet of those seven tracks, only two remain on today’s Indy Car calendar, ironically being split evenly (1-1) Oval/Road Course, while the rest of the venues have either ceased operating, lost their event or have been gobbled up by the two megatropolis corporations running the majority of today’s NASCAR events…

Yet from this humble beginning of an Oval heavy series, by its tenth season CART had diversified its schedule of 15 events into three disciplines comprising of six Ovals, four Permanent Road Courses and five Temporary Street Circuits.

Ironic