SVRA Portland Historics

By Erik Dolson

The SVRA race in Portland is already something of a blur. I should have taken notes, but sometimes life itself feels like driving through a rush hour on a six-lane highway capable of funneling cars at 70 o 80 miles an hour but regulated to 60, the shear volume of traffic reducing speeds to 30, then 20, then 10, and now zero, inching along,

unable to get off, unable to do anything besides sit there, barely moving and barely conscious except for awareness that hours of life are being lost that will never be … Read more…

The wheel comes off.

This video, taken at the Pacific Northwest Historic Races earlier this month, would be hilarious, if it didn’t depict a life threatening situation for at least five people. The impatient should start at minute 6:30.

First is the driver of the Mustang, Bob Hooper. His wheel came off at the fastest part of the race course, and he was traveling well over 100 miles per hour.

Second are the people in the worker stand. To me, it looks like that wheel is headed right at them. But I think it bounced over them, instead. Thank you folks in white … Read more…

Rose Cup

By Erik Dolson

We all got together again the following weekend in Portland for the Rose Cup races. Seattle officials were still debating what penalty, if any, Snake would be given for aggressive driving.

Cowboy came by my paddock and said, “You need to go talk to Armadillo. They’re talking about giving them a life-time ban.” Armadillo is president of … Read more…

Passing on the inside

By Erik Dolson

Over the July 4th weekend, my qualifying run on Friday morning at the Pacific Northwest Historics in Seattle felt pretty good. I was glad I’d practiced the day before, and had done a few sessions the month before in karts. Maybe I hadn’t lost it.

Okay, so I was on old tires, and not as smooth as I could be, and hadn’t quite figured out the new exit at Turn 3B. They’d repaved half the track, and some parts felt different. Different grip, different line. But overall, it felt pretty good.

Until the … Read more…

Getting there

By Erik Dolson

In Portland, I moved the car forward about two inches in the trailer. That seemed to settle it down as I drove north on I5 toward the track in Seattle. Getting the weight distributed on the trailer axles, and the hitch of my 8,000 pound Excursion, was a balancing act.

I thought I had it right last year, when I moved the car back the same damn two inches.

Google Maps said it would take about two hours, forty-five minutes to get to the track. That seemed about right. I’d be there just … Read more…

And So It Begins

By Erik Dolson

Cowboy was already at the garage when I got there. Mule was finishing up his car, I call her “Ruby” because of the fantastic paint job, she’s a jewel.

“Hey, do you know anybody who works on transmissions?” I asked Cowboy. The automatic in the Ford I use to tow Yellowjacket to races had been acting up, making a spinning noise with maybe a metal on metal screech.

“Call Gitterdone,” he said. “He’s having the … Read more…

Put him up against the wall!!!

By Erik Dolson

Cory Booker and Bill De Blasio have shown us their outrage. As if, somehow, that qualifies either to be president. It worked for Trump, so perhaps it would work for them.

But using outrage as a weapon is like using a grenade in hand-to-hand combat. (I suggest this song to Donald Trump, Cory Booker and Bill DeBlasio).

You see, last week Joe Biden said he used to work with segregationist senators in the Senate, and he named two. Here is the actual quote:

“You go down the list of all these … Read more…

Raindrops

By Erik Dolson

There are days when you just don’t want to go anywhere.

The dark blue Sunbrella “canvas” stretches over stainless steel bows to form the roof of the pilot house. When installing, we pulled it tight. A steady downpour this morning drums on the canvas with many a different cadence.

If I calm my mind, there’s a higher, softer … Read more…

Choices

by Erik Dolson

“You have to make a choice,” I told my daughter again, acutely aware of how many times I’d told her already, as if by sheer repetition the message might overwhelm whatever fear or reluctance that was holding her back.

“You need to have a plan,” I said. Again. She didn’t need another college degree, she needed a job. To jump into the river … Read more…