The most memorable race of my career happened when I worked for Mike Fons. It was October 1971 and we were headed to the World Finals in Amarillo Texas.

On the Tuesday prior to leaving for the race, Mike took the car to Milan for a final test. While there, he failed to hook up the wheelie bars (I was back at his house getting stuff ready for the trip to Texas) and managed to put the car literally on the rear bumper. It didn't go over but when it came down he managed to bend or break everything under the sun. The front wheels were pointed east and west, the oil pan smashed to pieces and most importantly, the crank was broken in the engine. I knew right then that I would not be getting much sleep for the next few days. That night we pulled the motor, disassembled the car, and Mike made LOTS of phone calls. I think it was Dave Koeffel that called Gary Ostrich in Nevada Iowa to bring everything in his shop (especially a crank) so that we could rebuild the engine. On Wednesday, Gary was IN THE DRIVEWAY of Mike's house rebuilding the engine, Mike and I attended to the chassis repairs and on we went. By late Wednesday night we had reinstalled the engine (newly rebuilt), finished the chassis repairs, loaded the truck and off we went.

You would think that was a good enough story right there but you would be very, very wrong. Around 3 AM just outside of Niles Michigan the engine decided to hole a piston and suck some valves. Being racers, for some unknown reason, we had a spare piston, rod, valves, for that old 383 engine that powered that piece of junk truck we had. We pulled into a beat up service station and pulled the oil pan, intake, and heads. We spent the next few hours patching that piece of junk back together and once again off we went.

End of story - no stinking way.

Heading southwest we now were just outside of Cuba MO - it was after dark on Thursday evening and all of a sudden that stupid truck pitched the left rear set of dual wheels/tires. Yep, they were gone... Fons just shrugs and says well we have a spare hub assembly with us ( I think old Mike just KNEW this was going to happen). Two hours later and with grease up to my elbows (still no sleep since Monday night) - off we go again. Finally we arrive in Amarillo on Friday.

We go ahead a qualify somewhere in the field - there is just no way I can remember those stats but we were solidly in the field. Come eliminations on Sunday things are plenty hectic. Round after round we managed to hold our own. Finally we make it to the Semi-final round and who are we up against but Ronnie Sox. Well, I might just as well go pack up the truck because there is no way we are going to beat the formidable S&M team. Wrong again - Mike pulled one out and we are in the final against none other than Herb McCandless in the other S&M car.

Now two things happen that sort of fit with the rest of the week. 1st, the Mallory mag we had been using decided to take a dump. We don't have a spare. Now what? To the rescue comes Donnie Carlton with a Vertex mag. We didn't quite have the wiring set up for a Vertex so I think we managed to run a wire back into the cockpit with a bare end that Mike could use to ground out the mag in order to kill the engine. The other thing that happened was that in the rush to service the car for the final round I was burned with the superheated steam from the engine. It seems that the crowd was pushing in to get a better look and someone saw that the pressure release lever on the radiator cap was up so they pushed it back down. I always released the pressure prior to pulling off the upper hose to cool the car with fresh water. When I pulled off the hose, out came the superheated steam and burnt the living daylights out of my arm and the side of my face. I was so pumped up with making the final round that I didn't feel the pain for a couple of hours but I paid for it later...

The final round was just perfect, Fons cut a great light and walked away with the Wally. What a day - what a week... Hey, we were the World Champs!!!

But - the story is not over. We weren't home - yet...

We left Amarillo around 11 am the next morning heading back to Michigan. Mike Koran had attended the race for the Missile team and we decided to caravan back home together. Off we go until sometime that night - again outside Cuba MO, we AGAIN pitched yet another set of rear dual wheel/tires. Another broken hub. Do you see a pattern here??? Another two hours with grease up to my elbows and holding a flashlight in my teeth got Mike and I back on the road. This time, we make it all the way back to Michigan without incident.

I think I was pretty tired when we got there because I don't remember much after that for at least 3 days. Oh, it took about a week to wash all the grease off my arms and out of my clothing. I believe good old mom was still taking care of the laundry duties or I would have been awful smelly and grimey for a long time aferwards...