Saturday and SundayThis has been a crazy few days. The Bikernet Bonneville team pulled out from the Black hills and sliced across Wyoming in search of Rawlins, Wyoming.
A fire alarm interrupted trying to get a good night’s sleep. Steve Haro, at 57 took on the roll of the teenager of the group with Panhead John leading the pack at 77, “I need to have my own room.”
Then Bandit, or me or maybe I carried the next torch at 76 years of age and finally Micah McCloskey came in third with the number 75. He drove his Jeep in a day from Auburn, California to Wendover, Utah, but refused to drive his shiny new Compass on the Salt.
It was up to me to buy a new trailer, a new Honda generator and drag my stuff all over the salt for a week. Stock car Steve supplied the tools and tremendous help as we loaded, rolled and took a break in Little America, while flying south then West into Wendover. I bought and slurped a 75-cent cone of vanilla ice cream.
Okay, I’m trying desperately to cut to the chase, because the ending is incredible.
We loaded up for the 750 mile crawl, hauling a light enclosed trailer with the Salt Torpedo strapped down and my Nissan sacrificial van loaded to the gills with tools, equipment, coolers and snacks.
We arrived Friday and tried to make it onto the salt, but the wind blew at gale force and we waited until Saturday morning. Under the FIM, the AMA and the BMST separate rule books we attempted to set up our pit area Saturday morning with the Buell Brothers, but then the wind returned. “The sun can kill you,” Drew from the Buell brothers shouted, but then removed his canopy as the wind swept across the vast 65 square miles of salt.
Unbelievably, we passed scrutineering, which is governed by FIM, AMA and Streamline rules. I attempted to follow every possible rule, requirement, but who the fuck would know how the officials would see what I saw. We were all terrified.
We passed, but still had challenges. We addressed any mechanical issues we came across, including grinding some clearance inside the body around the top of the gas tank. We added putty to the firewall, tightened all the motormounts, checked all the fluids and bolted the canopy in place and called it a massively successful day.
The next morning the riders meeting took place at 8:00 a.m. and we were a handful of minutes late. Micah listened as one of the competitors shouted about blowing his motor if he couldn’t break the rules. There were wind delays and threats of rain. We moved the Salt Torpedo into position at the mountain course. Then Micah changed his mind and chose the short course, which put us way down the list.
We found ourselves in a hot sun waiting game. A little after 2:00 in the afternoon we noticed a front heading onto the salt from the west. Finally, we were called to fire up and roll to the front of the line for a 3-mile pass. We placed stockcar Steve, a team member, at the 4-mile marker without a cell phone, but that’s another story.
Panhead John suggested we carry a booster battery and jumper cables to the staging area. One of the front tires silently hissed a slight air leak and we needed to constantly monitor the air pressure.
Finally an opportunity arrived with the storm front heading our way. With the struggling battery, we rolled to the staging line. I had numerous discussions with Micah about this first pass. I wanted him and the Salt Torpedo to survive. We worked hard to build this beast, but as an unproven concept it was totally unknown and built by anything but rocket scientists.
I wanted him to take it easy and to feel every aspect of the beast and fortunately he did and made the pass at a totally successful 126.8 mph. Since the class include the FIM, we were forced to receive word from the FIM if we had a shot at a record. We did, which meant we had to make a return pass.
With the skies darkening we found ourselves at the 4-mile marketer waiting for a FIM official to give us the word. Plus, we needed to adjust our fender struts, since one rubbed against the one of the front tires. We needed permission. Modifications are not allowed unless they are safety oriented. We received clearance, Steve fixed the front fender strut and Micah donned his fire suit preparing for the final pass.
With additional confidence Micah fired the Torpedo to life for the final three mile pass into the wind and signs of rain. The torpedo handled the growing wind and posted a 144.888 mph pass and the storm clouds rolled onto the salt.
We needed one more FIM certification and official to chaperone the torpedo to the inspection pit area. At the same time as we rolled to the pits the storm hit with full force, while Steve remained at our staging area shit started to fly. Canopies ripped from their frames, tarps tore loose, pandemonium ensued while we attempted to negotiate with the officials at the impound area.
One of the officials warmed to our rain-soaked situation, painted body fasteners and allowed us to fire the Salt Torpedo for protection in the 5-Ball trailer. That’s another story, but bottom line an absolutely fantastic day.
The success isn’t so much the record, but the well handling passes. The un-broken-in JIMS 135 inch Twin Cam engine worked flawlessly. Every element of the liner working in unity and successfully, we survived everything the Salt threw at us, tested an unproven vehicle against the elements at high speeds and survived. Doesn’t get any better than that. Many thanks to the team.
