TURNING STONE CASINO & AFTON SPEEDWAY 6/16/06
A flat tire, a sticky wheel, a stolen starter and a pet snake, it was a
busy Father’s Day weekend for the Midstate Antique Stock Car Club.
Wednesday night we hauled six antique modifieds up to Verona for the
Auto Racing Expo at the Turning Stone Casino. During the week
member Alan Weaver was asking which entrance to use to the Casino
and I had no idea, or why the question would even arise, until I got
there. Wow. This place is merely huge, my first trip to the resort and I
was impressed. We found our way to the exhibition hall, fired them up
and got them in place in a scene that conjured up memories of the
Beverly Hillbillies. I had to ask ‘What happened to the baling twine
Mike?’ as I noticed that the #197 of Mike Newell now had an actual fan
belt in place, ‘It finally broke’ he related. Too bad, I liked the baling
twine but the #197 wasn’t done with surprises for the weekend. Roy
Kotary met us there for a nice chat and related that he and his father
Cliff have some projects in mind this summer that they would like to do
for the club, sounds great to me. We’re watching Alan idle in the Lanz
#77 Pinto and Roy remarked ‘That’s a Seamon car isn’t it?’, next in
was John Clark’s #3X ‘Old Nell’ coupe, ‘That’s a Seamon car too’, Roy
knows his cars. Sharon and Richard Parry had their Jack Johnson #37
Falcon looking sharp and we had the Stockwell #151 and our beloved
Mouseville Monster up for the show as well. Joe Patrick walks me
around the center and shows us the race simulators, play stations and
exhibits, this is impressive and I want to thank Joe for inviting us. I was
hoping we would add a nice touch to the show but none of us really had
any idea just how much attention we would garner at that point.
Load up the tools and B29 for Afton Friday evening, fix my left rear and
cross my fingers. The weather is looking good for our first race of the
season after a rainout at Thunder Mountain a few weeks back. I want to
knock the rust off as it’s been a year and half since many of us have
been slinging clay. Into the gate and several member’s are already
there, paperwork and car inspections are complete before we even
get into the gate. Carl and Myrtle Carpenter are offering their
assistance in helping us get organized and did so the whole evening,
they were a big help. Getting into the truck and Ray Cole says ‘Hey,
your left rear’s down’ @#$%!, allright, so much for patched tubes, no
more of that nonsense. Dad’s aluminum jack is as light as a feather
though, I’m gonna get me one them thar badboys asap,
SCHAAWEET! Grab a spare and my firesuit, this thing has shrunk,
hasn’t it? Hope I don’t rip a seam and wiggle in for warm-ups, the track
awaits. Carl waves us on in and it all comes back to me, like falling off
a bike. Slip the B29 into high and mash the throttle, Red Shredder’s
volume explodes and my internal IPOD is jammin’ an old Queen song
in my head, ‘I’M IN LOVE WITH MY CAR, (WAAADAAA), GOT A
FEEL FOR MY AUTOMOBEEEL..’ Warmups are a blast, the track is
smooth as silk and it felt great. Back to the pits and there are sweaty
toothy grins everywhere as members thrash to snuff things up. Ray
Cole is putting on harder rubber, Gary Wood is getting his brake pedal
re-enforced, Jim Chase is looking for a belt, Dad is checking his oil
and relating how he’s gotten to big for the car, (he doesn’t look like he’
s gained anything to me), Larry Witter is helping compute the lineup. It’
s a whirlwind of activity and there are plenty of helping hands available.
Behind the grandstands Mel Ogden has his sharp #103 Ford coupe,
Ernie Cawley has trailered his ‘field fresh’ Henry J #75 and Tom Witter
brought Dad’s P-13, which was to come in very handy later.
Lined up for the heat and here comes the Finish Line Chaplain, Pastor
David Wells. He stops at Dad’s 43A and then has a steering wheel in
his hand, and he’s heading my way. “The driver in the 43 says he can’t
get under this wheel and get his foot on the clutch” he relates to me,
“Well, I’m a lot fatter than him” I blurted, “I don’t know how to respond to
that son” says the good pastor. Good comeback, he’s dealt with this
kind of thing before, I hand him my wheel and the swap is complete.
We’re off, Jim Chase leads us to green and for three laps we run in a 6-
pack that you could’ve thrown a blanket over as Chase’s 2K Delivery
Service Special holds point over Howdy Witter, Dad, Mike Cole,
Johnny Rockola, Tom Toomey, B29 and Gary Wood’s #97. Lap 4 and
Howdy busts a move on the inside as the 2K has thrown the power
steering belt, Jim fights on. The B29 is percolating now and I’m dicing
high and low looking for some room, Toomey and Rockola are looking
for the same spots and it’s a dogfight. It plays out in slow motion on the
track as you think you’re way around the oval, ‘what to do next, where is
he going, where is my fastest line?’ Lap 6 and Howdy’s running strong
and smooth, the B29 is up to second but the driver’s goggles are
covered and the combination of leather palmed gloves and a steering
wheel covered with black sticky friction tape is starting to reveal itself
as a bad mix. A few years back at Afton my father forgot his helmet,
Carl found us one bit it didn’t fit him. He borrowed mine and I used it, it
only covered half my eyelids but at least I could get my hand off the
wheel to adjust it as I needed. This time around I can’t even get my
hands off the wheel, Happy Father’s Day! Into turn three and I extricate
my right hand from the wheel, glad I’m not bare skinned, it’d taken my
palm off. What’s that concrete barrier doin’ in my way, YEEAAWW,
hard left and correct, powersliding is a blast but not the fast way
around, Howdy takes the checkers ahead of the B29, Toomey,
Rockola, Chase, Cole, 43A, Wood and Swansborough.
Into the pits where I wait until the 43A is in sight so he can witness my
throwing his wheel into the river, it takes my glove with it. “I see you like
my wheel” says my grinning father. “Yeah, how’d mine work?” I snort,
“Beautiful” was the reply I knew was coming. Everett Swansborough
has engine trouble and can’t make the feature, Dad swaps wheels with
him and we send that sticky sucker to Candor, if I could’ve thrown it
farther I would’ve. OK, run the fuel out after the heat, ‘rrrrraaarre’ says
the starter. Oh bouoy, what now, no engagement, I hope the ring gear
is still on. Thrash isn’t over yet, ooh ah &^%$#, the headers are hot,
always fun yanking a starter. The Bendix spring is snapped, good deal,
glad to see you Mr. Ringgear. We can push start it for the feature, hey
wait a minute, the P-13 is behind the grandstand. Who says show cars
don’t come in handy? Mucho gracieous. Don’t tell Tom Witter but he’s
gonna need a push instead as somebody has just swiped his starter.
By now I’m streaked with a mixture of sweat, grease and mud, the lady
at the pit entrance gives way commenting that I look like a race car
driver. Apparently a filthy one, I’m trying.
Bolt my ill gotten goodie in place and she spins over nice, Chase’s 2K
has one of my spare belts in place, Dad has a wheel he can get under,
Rockola, Toomey, Cole, Wood and Witter have made adjustments and
we’re ready for the feature go. Mike Cole leads us to the green and
Sammy Rogers drops the flag, the pitch rises to the fever point and we
bear down into turn one. Eyes wide open, nostrils flared, you are alive.
Mike leads through lap 2 but Johnny Rockola has the Jim Hilimire
owned beautiful Rollie Velte #99 Special on a rail and takes the top
spot. We’re trading spots back in the pack and with most on the
bottom I decide that now since I can actually work the wheel, I’ll try the
top. Good choice. I find some bite out at the wall and let the Shredder
turn up, 6:14’s are perfect up here. Midway and the order is Rockola,
B29, Cole, Witter, Toomey, 43a and Wood. Rockola has built up a
good lead but I can feel the B29 reeling him in until lap 10, and my
arms fall off. Either I’m outta shape or the steering pump is shot, can’t
be me can it? I have to slow and now Cole is nipping at my heels,
nobody’s gonna catch Rockola and he takes Sammy’s checkers,
Final: Rockola, B29, Mike Cole, Howdy Witter, Tom Toomey, 43A,
Gary Wood and Jim Chase. At least this time Jim didn’t lose his own
belt, and not to worry Gary, your new engine is ready.
My wife’s friend Shannon Karcher (yup, she is related to former drive
Hal) has sent her nephews Dave and Matt to the race and they
reported that the B29 ‘came in second but went to victory lane
anyways’. That’s right boys, our club recognizes winners from each of
our classes, sorry for the confusion. Rockola is all smiles, he earned it,
his car is as fast as it is sharp. Promoter Pat Jordan grabs my hand
and expresses his pleasure with our show, it was a good show, close
competition and not a single jingle, perfect. We’d like to thank Pat and
Janet for their hospitality, the track was in excellent shape, the best I’ve
ever seen it. We’d also like to thank Carl, Myrtle and Mike Carpenter
for all their help at the track, Nikki related that Myrtle showed her all the
ropes and without their help our show wouldn’t have been complete.
Also want to thank buddy Otto Graham for taking such nice pictures of
the event, they’re simply great. Thanks to everyone, we look forward to
our return trip.
Cool down lap afterward, Rockola has that satisfied smile on his face,
‘how close were you?’, ‘I was coming, the car was fine but the driver
ran out of gas.’ His rescued dog Sammy is keeping an eye on us, nice
boy, a little ‘confused’ about gender but he certainly was ‘friendly’. I had
to explain to him that I wasn’t that kind of guy but Nikki related that he
had things well figured out later. It was a good and satisfying night,
thanks to all our members who attended. Onward home where
Belvedere, Napoleon and Winston are happy to see us but blast by to
uncross their legs, everything’s in order now.
Saturday 6:00 Am the phone’s ringing, “Hey, what do you gap the
plugs at?” “Good morning Dad, 0.043.” “Jeeze, I had old champions at
0.018”, throw them over the bank, I guess we won’t need those valve
spring shims or an Old Faithful transplant just yet. Saturday night and
we’re whipped from car and house maintenance, Richard Parry calls. It
appears we’ve made a big ‘splash’ at the Turning Stone. One fellow
was looking over Mike Newell’s #197 and commented how cool it was
that Mike ‘had used a rubber snake for affect.’ Then he tried to grab it,
rubber snakes don’t usually move do they? Sorry Joe, I told you it was
‘Field Fresh’. Alls well that ends well though and the story I have is that
the Security Guards couldn’t corral Mike’s pet ‘Peekaboo’ so they let
him be. Poor snake, probably more scared than anyone else. That’s
one way to bring attention to your club, AttoGo Mike!
Sunday and it’s off to the Turning Stone to retrieve the 151. Joe reports
the show went well and I noticed a lot of Benny Parson autographs. Our
members were pleased with the event and we’re pleased that John
Button has joined as well. Maybe he’ll be pacing one of our upcoming
features. Which is coming right up as we’re at 5 Mile Point this coming
week for the Heath Memorial race, an annual event that’s not to be
missed as some local legend drivers will be in attendance. And Mr.
Newell has a little surprise to unveil there as well which I’m looking
forward to seeing, just think Peter Sellers and you’ll get the pink
picture. ‘Peekaboo’s’ staying home though, right Mike? See you at 5
Mile.
busy Father’s Day weekend for the Midstate Antique Stock Car Club.
Wednesday night we hauled six antique modifieds up to Verona for the
Auto Racing Expo at the Turning Stone Casino. During the week
member Alan Weaver was asking which entrance to use to the Casino
and I had no idea, or why the question would even arise, until I got
there. Wow. This place is merely huge, my first trip to the resort and I
was impressed. We found our way to the exhibition hall, fired them up
and got them in place in a scene that conjured up memories of the
Beverly Hillbillies. I had to ask ‘What happened to the baling twine
Mike?’ as I noticed that the #197 of Mike Newell now had an actual fan
belt in place, ‘It finally broke’ he related. Too bad, I liked the baling
twine but the #197 wasn’t done with surprises for the weekend. Roy
Kotary met us there for a nice chat and related that he and his father
Cliff have some projects in mind this summer that they would like to do
for the club, sounds great to me. We’re watching Alan idle in the Lanz
#77 Pinto and Roy remarked ‘That’s a Seamon car isn’t it?’, next in
was John Clark’s #3X ‘Old Nell’ coupe, ‘That’s a Seamon car too’, Roy
knows his cars. Sharon and Richard Parry had their Jack Johnson #37
Falcon looking sharp and we had the Stockwell #151 and our beloved
Mouseville Monster up for the show as well. Joe Patrick walks me
around the center and shows us the race simulators, play stations and
exhibits, this is impressive and I want to thank Joe for inviting us. I was
hoping we would add a nice touch to the show but none of us really had
any idea just how much attention we would garner at that point.
Load up the tools and B29 for Afton Friday evening, fix my left rear and
cross my fingers. The weather is looking good for our first race of the
season after a rainout at Thunder Mountain a few weeks back. I want to
knock the rust off as it’s been a year and half since many of us have
been slinging clay. Into the gate and several member’s are already
there, paperwork and car inspections are complete before we even
get into the gate. Carl and Myrtle Carpenter are offering their
assistance in helping us get organized and did so the whole evening,
they were a big help. Getting into the truck and Ray Cole says ‘Hey,
your left rear’s down’ @#$%!, allright, so much for patched tubes, no
more of that nonsense. Dad’s aluminum jack is as light as a feather
though, I’m gonna get me one them thar badboys asap,
SCHAAWEET! Grab a spare and my firesuit, this thing has shrunk,
hasn’t it? Hope I don’t rip a seam and wiggle in for warm-ups, the track
awaits. Carl waves us on in and it all comes back to me, like falling off
a bike. Slip the B29 into high and mash the throttle, Red Shredder’s
volume explodes and my internal IPOD is jammin’ an old Queen song
in my head, ‘I’M IN LOVE WITH MY CAR, (WAAADAAA), GOT A
FEEL FOR MY AUTOMOBEEEL..’ Warmups are a blast, the track is
smooth as silk and it felt great. Back to the pits and there are sweaty
toothy grins everywhere as members thrash to snuff things up. Ray
Cole is putting on harder rubber, Gary Wood is getting his brake pedal
re-enforced, Jim Chase is looking for a belt, Dad is checking his oil
and relating how he’s gotten to big for the car, (he doesn’t look like he’
s gained anything to me), Larry Witter is helping compute the lineup. It’
s a whirlwind of activity and there are plenty of helping hands available.
Behind the grandstands Mel Ogden has his sharp #103 Ford coupe,
Ernie Cawley has trailered his ‘field fresh’ Henry J #75 and Tom Witter
brought Dad’s P-13, which was to come in very handy later.
Lined up for the heat and here comes the Finish Line Chaplain, Pastor
David Wells. He stops at Dad’s 43A and then has a steering wheel in
his hand, and he’s heading my way. “The driver in the 43 says he can’t
get under this wheel and get his foot on the clutch” he relates to me,
“Well, I’m a lot fatter than him” I blurted, “I don’t know how to respond to
that son” says the good pastor. Good comeback, he’s dealt with this
kind of thing before, I hand him my wheel and the swap is complete.
We’re off, Jim Chase leads us to green and for three laps we run in a 6-
pack that you could’ve thrown a blanket over as Chase’s 2K Delivery
Service Special holds point over Howdy Witter, Dad, Mike Cole,
Johnny Rockola, Tom Toomey, B29 and Gary Wood’s #97. Lap 4 and
Howdy busts a move on the inside as the 2K has thrown the power
steering belt, Jim fights on. The B29 is percolating now and I’m dicing
high and low looking for some room, Toomey and Rockola are looking
for the same spots and it’s a dogfight. It plays out in slow motion on the
track as you think you’re way around the oval, ‘what to do next, where is
he going, where is my fastest line?’ Lap 6 and Howdy’s running strong
and smooth, the B29 is up to second but the driver’s goggles are
covered and the combination of leather palmed gloves and a steering
wheel covered with black sticky friction tape is starting to reveal itself
as a bad mix. A few years back at Afton my father forgot his helmet,
Carl found us one bit it didn’t fit him. He borrowed mine and I used it, it
only covered half my eyelids but at least I could get my hand off the
wheel to adjust it as I needed. This time around I can’t even get my
hands off the wheel, Happy Father’s Day! Into turn three and I extricate
my right hand from the wheel, glad I’m not bare skinned, it’d taken my
palm off. What’s that concrete barrier doin’ in my way, YEEAAWW,
hard left and correct, powersliding is a blast but not the fast way
around, Howdy takes the checkers ahead of the B29, Toomey,
Rockola, Chase, Cole, 43A, Wood and Swansborough.
Into the pits where I wait until the 43A is in sight so he can witness my
throwing his wheel into the river, it takes my glove with it. “I see you like
my wheel” says my grinning father. “Yeah, how’d mine work?” I snort,
“Beautiful” was the reply I knew was coming. Everett Swansborough
has engine trouble and can’t make the feature, Dad swaps wheels with
him and we send that sticky sucker to Candor, if I could’ve thrown it
farther I would’ve. OK, run the fuel out after the heat, ‘rrrrraaarre’ says
the starter. Oh bouoy, what now, no engagement, I hope the ring gear
is still on. Thrash isn’t over yet, ooh ah &^%$#, the headers are hot,
always fun yanking a starter. The Bendix spring is snapped, good deal,
glad to see you Mr. Ringgear. We can push start it for the feature, hey
wait a minute, the P-13 is behind the grandstand. Who says show cars
don’t come in handy? Mucho gracieous. Don’t tell Tom Witter but he’s
gonna need a push instead as somebody has just swiped his starter.
By now I’m streaked with a mixture of sweat, grease and mud, the lady
at the pit entrance gives way commenting that I look like a race car
driver. Apparently a filthy one, I’m trying.
Bolt my ill gotten goodie in place and she spins over nice, Chase’s 2K
has one of my spare belts in place, Dad has a wheel he can get under,
Rockola, Toomey, Cole, Wood and Witter have made adjustments and
we’re ready for the feature go. Mike Cole leads us to the green and
Sammy Rogers drops the flag, the pitch rises to the fever point and we
bear down into turn one. Eyes wide open, nostrils flared, you are alive.
Mike leads through lap 2 but Johnny Rockola has the Jim Hilimire
owned beautiful Rollie Velte #99 Special on a rail and takes the top
spot. We’re trading spots back in the pack and with most on the
bottom I decide that now since I can actually work the wheel, I’ll try the
top. Good choice. I find some bite out at the wall and let the Shredder
turn up, 6:14’s are perfect up here. Midway and the order is Rockola,
B29, Cole, Witter, Toomey, 43a and Wood. Rockola has built up a
good lead but I can feel the B29 reeling him in until lap 10, and my
arms fall off. Either I’m outta shape or the steering pump is shot, can’t
be me can it? I have to slow and now Cole is nipping at my heels,
nobody’s gonna catch Rockola and he takes Sammy’s checkers,
Final: Rockola, B29, Mike Cole, Howdy Witter, Tom Toomey, 43A,
Gary Wood and Jim Chase. At least this time Jim didn’t lose his own
belt, and not to worry Gary, your new engine is ready.
My wife’s friend Shannon Karcher (yup, she is related to former drive
Hal) has sent her nephews Dave and Matt to the race and they
reported that the B29 ‘came in second but went to victory lane
anyways’. That’s right boys, our club recognizes winners from each of
our classes, sorry for the confusion. Rockola is all smiles, he earned it,
his car is as fast as it is sharp. Promoter Pat Jordan grabs my hand
and expresses his pleasure with our show, it was a good show, close
competition and not a single jingle, perfect. We’d like to thank Pat and
Janet for their hospitality, the track was in excellent shape, the best I’ve
ever seen it. We’d also like to thank Carl, Myrtle and Mike Carpenter
for all their help at the track, Nikki related that Myrtle showed her all the
ropes and without their help our show wouldn’t have been complete.
Also want to thank buddy Otto Graham for taking such nice pictures of
the event, they’re simply great. Thanks to everyone, we look forward to
our return trip.
Cool down lap afterward, Rockola has that satisfied smile on his face,
‘how close were you?’, ‘I was coming, the car was fine but the driver
ran out of gas.’ His rescued dog Sammy is keeping an eye on us, nice
boy, a little ‘confused’ about gender but he certainly was ‘friendly’. I had
to explain to him that I wasn’t that kind of guy but Nikki related that he
had things well figured out later. It was a good and satisfying night,
thanks to all our members who attended. Onward home where
Belvedere, Napoleon and Winston are happy to see us but blast by to
uncross their legs, everything’s in order now.
Saturday 6:00 Am the phone’s ringing, “Hey, what do you gap the
plugs at?” “Good morning Dad, 0.043.” “Jeeze, I had old champions at
0.018”, throw them over the bank, I guess we won’t need those valve
spring shims or an Old Faithful transplant just yet. Saturday night and
we’re whipped from car and house maintenance, Richard Parry calls. It
appears we’ve made a big ‘splash’ at the Turning Stone. One fellow
was looking over Mike Newell’s #197 and commented how cool it was
that Mike ‘had used a rubber snake for affect.’ Then he tried to grab it,
rubber snakes don’t usually move do they? Sorry Joe, I told you it was
‘Field Fresh’. Alls well that ends well though and the story I have is that
the Security Guards couldn’t corral Mike’s pet ‘Peekaboo’ so they let
him be. Poor snake, probably more scared than anyone else. That’s
one way to bring attention to your club, AttoGo Mike!
Sunday and it’s off to the Turning Stone to retrieve the 151. Joe reports
the show went well and I noticed a lot of Benny Parson autographs. Our
members were pleased with the event and we’re pleased that John
Button has joined as well. Maybe he’ll be pacing one of our upcoming
features. Which is coming right up as we’re at 5 Mile Point this coming
week for the Heath Memorial race, an annual event that’s not to be
missed as some local legend drivers will be in attendance. And Mr.
Newell has a little surprise to unveil there as well which I’m looking
forward to seeing, just think Peter Sellers and you’ll get the pink
picture. ‘Peekaboo’s’ staying home though, right Mike? See you at 5
Mile.
