Last year, my good friend Chris (Butch) Horn, who is a former race mechanic for the likes of Shirley, Conrad, Rob Bruins, Billy Meyer, Segrini, and yes, even me, among many others, invited me to go to the California Hot Rod Reunion with him. I couldn't make it happen then, but the stories he came back with meant that this year's edition was a must attend.

The CHRR is a lot of things; a cool drag race, but also a storytelling festival of speed and memories. After attending my first one last week, all I can say is it is very, very cool. In fact, for many of us who have been in the sport for, well, a lifetime, it is probably the only drag race which we can attend without a racecar or "real" job and still have fun. And not just fun, but LOTS of fun, because of the people who go. It is a drag racing "who's who," with a few of today's players, who apparently can't get enough nitro, mixed in. Take these ultra successful, highly competitive, Type  personalities; remove the competition; add some age (like a fine wine); throw in 40 or 50 years of memories and bench racing; and, presto, you have the makings of a great party not to be missed.

Brian Corradi, Mikey DunnLast year, my good friend Chris (Butch) Horn, who is a former race mechanic for the likes of Shirley, Conrad, Rob Bruins, Billy Meyer, Segrini, and yes, even me, among many others, invited me to go to the California Hot Rod Reunion with him. I couldn't make it happen then, but the stories he came back with meant that this year's edition was a must attend.

The CHRR is a lot of things; a cool drag race, but also a storytelling festival of speed and memories. After attending my first one last week, all I can say is it is very, very cool. In fact, for many of us who have been in the sport for, well, a lifetime, it is probably the only drag race which we can attend without a racecar or "real" job and still have fun. And not just fun, but LOTS of fun, because of the people who go. It is a drag racing "who's who," with a few of today's players, who apparently can't get enough nitro, mixed in. Take these ultra successful, highly competitive, Type A personalities; remove the competition; add some age (like a fine wine); throw in 40 or 50 years of memories and bench racing; and, presto, you have the makings of a great party not to be missed.

Because it was a reunion, we had to honor the nostalgia, and that meant going "all in" to relive our past ways. (Maybe not all in, because many of us don't live the same way we did in our early 20s. Many of those habits would kill us, or land us in jail.) But you get the idea. So instead of doing the smart thing, and traveling the way we would now, perhaps with our families and young children, we instead embraced the way we used to roll. And that meant driving all night, getting four hours of sleep, and sharing three to a room, before heading out to the track. Fun?
Chicks & Cars
I left Bend, Oregon, at almost 6 p.m. on Thursday, and met up with Butch and the underrated (IMO), crew chief Mike Kloeber, in the tiny mountain town of Mt. Shasta, California, at 10 p.m. With Kloeber driving, never much slower than 80, I stretched out in the backseat and we traveled down to Bakersfield arriving at a little after 4 a.m. We were at the track by 10 a..m, and I was feeling like I had flown in overnight from Europe or some other faraway continent. Although I may be ten times fitter than I was when I was in my twenties thanks to bike racing, I realized that old racing lifestyle is more conducive to youngsters eager to arrive and crush everyone at the track.

There was a lot to take in. The cars, especially the restored cackle cars, as well as today's nostalgia funny cars, are so cool. Most of the fans were older, and of course, many of the sport's big names from the past were there. But I couldn't help thinking how 99.99% of the American public, especially the younger generations (and the "hot rodders" among them, if you can even use the term, which is questionable, of course), do not appreciate or understand the balls it took to drive a front-motored car in the 1960s, and an early funny car in the 1970s. Or, God forbid, a real, live Fuel Altered. Hell, they don't even know what a front-motored car is. The term "Dragster" is totally foreign to them. They have no idea. There were not many of the 18-34 year-old demographic walking around. Which is a shame. The restored cars of yesterday, of which there were too many to count, are truly pieces of art, and a somewhat overlooked part of American history and pop culture. As I looked at all this stuff, I saw an untold story, despite the new Snake and Mongoose movie, and several "retro" magazines now being published. To me, those restored cars are significant in the same way an original Andy Warhol painting is. They are part of the American fabric; they are much more than racing history.
Al Segrini & John Lombardo Jr
A front-engine car, and their drivers, are a metaphor for what America used to be:  big balls, no compromises, unrestrained power and a strong element of fearlessness. Really tough men drove those cars; hard men, men who said what they thought, men who sometimes talked with their fists, and men who certainly had no use or patience for BS. Now, of course, if you give someone a fat lip at the track, even in the privacy of your own pit area, it will cost you $20,000 and certainly put you under the scrutiny of your sponsor. Just ask Capps. This is wrong. Today's racing is also a metaphor for what America has become. The raw edges are gone–and please don't piss off anyone–lest you get sued. Today's drivers fret over who likes them, and kiss a lot of a** to make sure that just about everyone does. The cars of today are fast and powerful, but also heavily regulated and very, let's say, neutered. The cars of the CHRR remind you of the past unlike almost anything can. Except, of course, the people.

In opposition to Wally's long-held view that "the cars are the stars," the people are what really make the CHRR what it is. And not just yesterday's top drivers, but also the crew guys. Attending this race reminded me of how different the sport was back then. My personal early era, during the early 80s, was one when crew guys were well known personalities in their own right. Back then, the guys and the teams were much closer than they are today. They partied together, traveled together, stayed at each other's shops while on the road, and of course, helped each other at the track when needed. Which was often. This doesn't happen today. Back then, the teams were real teams. (Consider how long Dale Emery, D. Gant and Waterbed Fred Miller worked for Raymond Beadle, and made the Blue Max what it was.) Today, it is probably more accurate to refer to some of the big teams as employers.

TV Tommy Ivo, Rich Shute, Whit Bazemore, Steve Reyes
(Photo by Butch Horn)Pat Galvin is a successful businessman today, but he is also a longtime racer from the 70s and 80s who worked for Shirley, McEwen, Bob Pickett, John Collins and a few others. Galvin brings his motorhome, a full liquor cabinet, a few tents, a huge grill and makes his place THE place to hang out. The hospitality is tremendous, and draws all the stars past and present. No one is invited, but everyone is welcomed. It was awesome to catch up and see many old friends, and have a chance to actually spend time with others who I have known about, but who I never got to know on a personal level back in the day. Guys like Billy Bones, a legend in his own right, and who funded the Goose, and later Shirley, through his Sizzler restaurants. And Galvin is one of those infamous crew guys who I never got to know that well back then. So it was cool to have a chance to get to know him a little. I was reminded of how intimidated I was by these people when I was 16 and 17 years old. The lifestyle they lived was intimidating too. The women, the racing, the late nights, bars, booze, you name it, it was all there. I mean, Waterbed Fred was just as big a hero of mine as Beadle or Prudhomme. Very true. The humor and the stories shared by guys like Richard Tharp, Waterbed and Galvin just has to be experienced to be believed. Sitting and watching the Indy Car race with Tharp and Snake, with Lynn pouring wine, Tom Prock hanging out, Roland bench racing, Donnie Couch being cool, and Ed Pink and PB Candies...I mean, really, is this place even real? Yes. But to believe it you almost have to be there.

True to the nature of the weekend, we left the racetrack for home in Kloeber's Cadillac at 10 p.m. Saturday night after having been at the track for 12 hours. Joining us for the all-night drive home was 1979 TF World Champion Rob Bruins, and that was way cool. Candies made sure I had an open bottle of Galvin's wine for the ride home to ensure no one drafted me to drive. I drank it – so they didn't.

The CHHR brings back all the good times, and is a reminder that life is short, good friends are more important than race wins, and seeing your distant and past friends every so often is paramount. It also reminds you to live like there is no tomorrow.

D. Gant, Waterbed Fred Miller, Steve Reyes, Dale Emory

PB Candies, Brian Corradi  

Fred Miller, D. Gant, Mike Kloeber, Pat Galvin, Butch Horn, WHit Bazemore, Mark Oswald, Brian Corradi

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