An Old Fuel Driver and God Amen . . . a word not spoken often by fuel drivers, most times the request started with, "Oh God." It's not always the old-timers. Sometimes, hangin out with a guy your own age who's done a lot of stuff that you didn't can make for quite an afternoon. A few years back, I spent an afternoon at the Visalia, California downtown A&W, roadster parked in the lot and me sitting on a bench in the shade of some tall trees on a hot summer day listening to a not so old fuel driver/engine builder/machinist/teller of tales and who knows what else. Some of the tales, within reason and some almost beyond belief. The true tales were either obviously true or the truth came along later. What seemed to be tall tales, the truth came along later on these as well and they always turned out to be true. Sometimes the tales bordered on the edge of fantastic and other times they fell right into the realm of beyond most anything you thought you could ever believe. Making me, not a checker-upper on what seemed to be tall tales, but it's interesting to hear others talk about this guy and in a round-a-bout way verify his stories. Like that old saw, truth is stranger than fiction. If it were not so, there would be no fiction written because the best fiction springs from truth. He'd been there, done it all it seems and has the photos to prove it. He's wanting me to write his life story, but he's so doggoned busy most times that he doesn't hardly have the time to talk. When he does have time he wants to talk about present day hot rodding, what's happening at the tracks, whats going on locally and if you keep quiet and listen . . . eventually he'll drift back in time. All you gotta do is half-way close your eyes, shut out the world, and most of all, pay attention. I swear . . . after a bit, you can feel the brightness and clarity of the sun on a crisp summer morning at the dragstrip, sniff the yeasty smell of the fuel, hear the cackle of fuelers turning in for the line-up and a run, then be waiting breathlessly for what's gonna happen next. Sometimes a tire burning goin sideways spittin out the oil and aluminum pieces adventure and other times a straight and true run through and out of the smoke carding a high 7 at over 200 mph. Then it's back to the pits so you can lie in the dirt, pull the pan, get hot oil dripping on your face and see if the bearings are gonna last for one more run. I bet God used to wonder how come all the prayers over a small and unimportant piece of aluminum. Unimportant to the world at large, but important to a particular individual in a particular place at a particular time. I'd further bet, more than a few of these prayers over a set of aluminum backed inserts were answered. Fuel drivers talk to God. At both ends of the strip and sometimes in the middle. The end of the strip? Frenetic seems to be the applicable word here. Too many things happening too fast and all you can do is run the shut-down drill, toss out the chute, get on the brakes, wonder if youre on fire . . . again, kicked out the rods . . . again, hang on and pray. Those were the days of real hot rods. Not any more real than today or the days that came before and the real part of it came from the total immersion of self into the mechanical marvels we know as hot rods. Fuel or gasoline, makes no difference. There's a little bit of each of us in the cars we build and for those who truly love the sport/hobby/life interest or whatever the heck you want to call it, the next car, roadster, coupe or fueler will be better than the last. Faster too. Who knew where it would end? And when? There were times when we wondered where it would all go and times where it didnt make any difference. Our love for anything hot rod, and I include customs in the hot rod category cuz, simply put, many of these low and smooth cars could really haul the freight and more than one hot rod coupe running late at night ended up staring at the taillights of a low-slung custom. Seems like someone forgot to tell the L.A. guys that customs didnt have to be such hard runners, they only had to look good and sound mellow when cruising by. Many of these cars had some serious engines and few of them were flatheads. Look under the hood of a 49-50 Merc custom and youd see a swapped in Rocket, Nailhead or best of all, the fabled Chrysler Hemi. Running a swapped in OHV engine didnt mean a whole lot sometimes. I saw several Hemi powered 49-51 Ford Shoebox coupes at Southern Californias San Fernando dragstrip. Strange part was, all of them looked and sounded stock. They probably did ok on the street, it didnt take much to beat a Shoebox with a stock flatmotor, but when it came to drag racing, it was more of an exercise in curiosity than a particular desire for speed. Or, put another way, they were one of the first cars eliminated. It wasnt enough to simply swap in an overhead and figure you were in Fat City. If you didnt toss in some of the good stuff made by Offy, Isky, Engle et al, you were doomed to go out on the first round. Especially so if you ran C or D/Gas which were a couple of tough cl***es and where most of the Shoeboxes and Tri-Five Chevys ended up. Eye Candy in the form of chrome plated Hemi rocker covers, or Rocket, or Nailhead simply was . . . not enough. In a way, the same was true for the Fuelers of the era, local or otherwise. Tipping the can a little more, popping in a smaller pill and jacking up the timing could gain enough extra horsepower so that many times you could compete with the big boys. Trouble there was, the top runners had already tipped the can and for the smaller operations, their excess money - which is a phrase not used much in any top fuel camp - went toward were components that promised more longevity in a seriously over-stressed bottom end. The thinking went both ways from what the old fuel driver told me, some of the fuel crews didnt only tip the can, they threw in label and all. Other crews were running 80-90% and both groups were hoping for the best. Some of the crews, almost always running a budget, were believers in economy bottom ends. That meant engines right out of the junkyard fitted with the usual new stuff, aftermarket forged pistons, stronger rods, stock crank, balanced and a good pair of heads with a many times considerably overdriven blower. Their theories seemed to be as good as any other. Granted, they suffered some serious blowups, but so did the guys with the high dollar stuff. Proving to one and all that running a fueler is a whole other ball game. The learning curve was steep and the steps were paved with gold. What was interesting was finding that my own experiences driving a fuel flathead dragster was in a small way much the same as running the seriously fast cars. Granted, way slower. No way you can compare 12 seconds @ 112 mph with a fast for the time top fueler running low 7's and 220 mph. The similarities, at least for me was likening the run with watching a movie. Get strapped in, push start, keep it running with some well done loud pedal maneuvers until the heads got some heat in them, coast along the fire up road, make the turn to your lane and get lined up. Some of the races could be more than interesting whether driving in C/Gas or my pals flathead fuel dragster. Both camps were running wrinkle wall slicks and experimenting with burnouts. At the time, burnouts were a very new thing and done by those who brought their own bleach. The thinking was to clean off the tires since the gummed up and sometimes gravel coated tires didnt grip very well at the start. Along with that, wrinkle wall slicks were just starting to gain popularity, but we were running the good old local copy of an M&H slick and it was a touch hard compared to the wrinkle walls. If the truth were known it probably didnt bite as well as a genuine M&H either, but we had what we had and determined to make the best of it. Making the best of it had to do with driving technique and patience. The patience to keep from rolling the throttle on too far too soon after the launch, get the tires spinning and watching the wrinkle wall wonders with their good grip on the pavement slide on by. A few years down the road, here we are, a bit more experience under our belts, driving cars that are far lighter than the old and muchly loved Shoeboxes and dealing with maybe 50% more horsepower. On the street, on street tires, half-way wishing we could take these hard running little roadsters back in time and see how theyd do against the cars from back in the day. So far, all those learned reactions with strong engines and hard slicks has stood us well. That and a touch of calmness that comes with experience and maybe even a little bit of it with age has allowed us to compete on a somewhat even level with some of the modern day drag racers. Not that we were beating them, but most times they knew theyd been in a race. Kinda funny how quite a few of the reputed to be ten second cars had a hard time beating our old 12-13 second wonders back in the day. All about perceptions I suppose and way different from times derived from a wris****ch and a couple of lines painted on a quiet country road. Things are no different today, except that some of the thought to be 10 second cars are now looking at street-runners that can click off 11's and 12's on street tires without too much effort. Some things change and some things stay the same. As for the old fuel driver? Hes still around and he still talks to God. Nowadays though, the conversation is not so frenzied nor behind the wheel of a strong running fueler, but just in his dreams and thoughts. Some day, hes gonna get it all together and when he does, you better hang onto your backside cuz if he ever gets behind the drivers wheel again its gonna be interesting. Really, really interesting.... All photos by the author.
Thank you for that well written piece, it was very enjoyble to read! I'd love to see more posts like yours on the HAMB rather than sombody's latest gripe or rant.
C9, Very cool little tell,put together nicely,and flows well, I see exactly what you had explained before. Thanks for the post and the sound advise....
Very cool, who is the driver? Just came in from working on another digger and read this , simply f.e.d heaven. Thank you.
Great story When in Visalia go to Tulare and see the Shayhans shop ( The Drag-on Lady) Sherlie has many storys to tell
great post, thanks C9, man, now i wish there was a strip near my office so i could do a p*** in my 55 and i agree, way better then a rant
Nice, very nice. Brought tears to my eyes while reminding me of days gone by in our fueler. LOL,,,I can remember saying, in my mind at least, "Oh God.............!
You must have quite a memory. I've had the first draft for four years. This is the fourth draft. I put it up for a couple reasons. Main one being the whiners and ranters seem to be drifting off elsewhere, God bless their pissy little hearts. So that means something with 2-10 hours or more work doesn't roll off the board in a half hour or so. I see a lot more guys and gals posting interesting stuff whether a question, an answer, a road-trip or simply some tech stuff. The HAMB seems to be a more mature version of its earlier self, but I do miss Germ. Anyway, this little piece got re-written a couple more times, revamped a bit and published as a voluntary deal for an automotive oriented newspaper pertaining to the upcoming Kingman, Arizona street drags. Just thought I'd share it with you. This afternoon, headed out in the roadster to talk to an old SoCal alcohol funny car runner. There's some really interesting people in this town and many of them were involved with some of the big names from days gone by. Along those same lines, Kingman ain't really too big, but there's a helluva hot rod presence in town. I hit the Saturday night What A Burger cruise now & then and see a car that's either new to the scene or running in a different circle than I do and I've never seen their car. One guy I should interview runs a BBC, roller cammed 8.71 blown T-Bucket with wheelie bars and the damned thing sounds like a fueler when he pulls in. An elderly gentleman, walks with a limp, has a hard time getting in & out of the car. Best part is, he's still showing the street runners what a real hot rod looks and sounds like. He spent the entire day at a local car show a few weeks back. Not a big deal you say? We had light to monsoon rains all day. Guys like that give ya hope for the future....
I'd put this post up against your best, Jay. You craft a story the way you build a car; thoughtfully and skilfully. A feast for the eye as well as the mind. Thanks for putting this on the HAMB. I usually read everything else before a C9 story post...sorta like anticipating the last doughnut in the box.
If you can make em see it and be there while reading it, then you've done a masterful piece of writing. Kudos Jay.
Awesome post,is this the start of more?? PLEASE? Maybe you and Rich Venza should get together and write a book! Now that would be something!! Doc.
For those hambers to "new" to know C9 (and I'm sure he won't toot his own horn) please run a search for California Hot Rodder or Pinky and buy a few copies for you and your friends. Better yet, READ them.... Awesome job as usual, C9, glad to see you still tinkering on the clackety box...
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