“You still want to ride in the trunk?” Star gave me an odd look, she was carrying down her and McClaire’s things, plus a few things they bought while in LA, down to the Mustang in the parking garage under the building.
“I started this adventure with you guys in the trunk, I guess it only makes sense if I finish it in the trunk.” I told her and she scowled at me.
“You're stupid.” She said bluntly, but she took the suitcase back out of the trunk and moved it to the back seat. I helped her put things in the back seat of the car as McClaire walked over, pulling on her leather driving gloves. She was wearing a different outfit, now wearing a bomber jacket with her racing number imprinted on the shoulder, and knee high lace up boots instead of the calve high ones that buckled. She kept the cowboy hat though, that seemed to fit her personality regardless.
“This is your last chance Johnny. Sure you don’t want to stay here?” McClaire asked.
“Positive. I want to see this road trip through to the end.” I replied with a nod.
“Okay, well hop in. Let’s get going, yeah?” It was Friday morning the next week, and we were headed for the fastest piece of land in the United States, the Bonneville Salt Flats. Here, speed demons pushed their cars to the limit, trying to break land speed records within the vast, empty, open space. These were the test pilots of the car racing world, pushing the limits of what humanity and science thought could be done.
It just so happened the universes of car racing aligned for a once in a lifetime opportunity. A couple of years ago, Dodge released the Dodge Daytona, a homologation special version of the Charger with a shovel nose and enormous rear wing. Combined with their 440 cu in hemi engine, this supercar was capable of hitting 200 miles per hour plus on the largest tracks of the NASCAR racing circuit. However, NASCAR didn’t approve. The whole mantra of the southern based sport was win on Sunday, sell on Monday. With Dodge and later Plymouth and Ford building purpose built racing cars and then trying to sell them to the public to justify their creation, this turned the tables on NASCAR in an uncomfortable way. It wasn’t that long ago that the “Automotive Safety Crusaders” nearly eliminated motorsports all together in the USA. Ralph Nader and his book Unsafe at Any Speed: The Designed-In Dangers of the American Automobile, nearly brought the big three automakers to their knees and forced much of the funding towards motorsports to go under the table. Simply put, for NASCAR to allow and promote manufacturers to build 200 MPH racing cars they then sold to the public at ridiculously low prices to meet homologation rules, the risks of potential blowback proved to be too great. In 1971 the “Winged cars” as they had become known were banned outright, and teams were left with this spectacular automobile with nowhere to race it.
Enter Bobby Issac and the K&K racing team. With the fastest car Detroit had ever built and sold to the public up until this point, they were going to attempt a land speed record on the salt of Bonneville. By happenstance, this attempt was scheduled one week after McClaire’s run in the McLaren Indycar, and so that’s where we were headed.
Speaking of, Danny Hulmes would arrive last Thursday evening to practice in the car McClaire had driven and qualified for the race in his stead. However, after a few laps he elected to drop out, likely bothered by the wayward handling of his machine forewarned by McClaire. He refocused his efforts on the race in Wisconsin and McLaren was left without a driver, having already pissed off the best backup driver in the business.
While we were in LA, I spent a couple days in the library, reading up as much as I could about motorsports and Stephanie McClaire. What I found out was that McClaire was often called the “Racing Mercenary”. Not because she killed people, but because she always hopped from race to race, championship to championship, with no allegiance to a manufacturer or sanctioning body. Many racing teams hired her as a backup driver to replace injured or otherwise preoccupied drivers, and she often entered races with her own cars too. Her record then, looks like a shotgun blast, with races in Europe, America, and Japan sometimes happening in the same week. One week she’s in Africa taking part in a transcontinental road rally, the next she’s in the UK racing formula 2 cars. Then randomly she appears at a drag race in the United States, before racing prototype sports cars on the edge of Mount Fuji.
Why this jet setting superstar would want to go on a roadtrip across the western US was beyond me, but I was so glad she did. Chilling in my little cocoon, the trunk of this Mustang, I realized I was going to miss this grand adventure. The nervousness, the excitement, the fear, and the fun, I was going to miss it all when this road trip was indeed finally over. Still, I had a couple days more to enjoy, and I planned to make the most of it!
It was about a day-long drive from LA to Salt Lake City, where we would stay for the night. Once again, McClaire provided me with my own room, and for once, McClaire sent me out to go get dinner. Finally, I get to drive this mustang! I thought, until McClaire asked a simple question.
“You do have a driver's license, right?”
“Hahaha… Not exactly. I just sort of learned how to drive by jacking and stealing cars.” I admitted.
“Seriously…” She scowled.
“It’s fine, I’ll go with him.” Star said, suspiciously cheerfully. Even though she had pseudo forgiven me, there was still a twinkle in her eye and a slight mischievous look in her grin that told me, this was going to be a drive I’ll remember.
“I’ll drive there, you can drive back. Come on, buckle up!” Star said, closing the door and starting the engine. This was the first time I had actually sat in the front seats of the Mustang, and to be honest, it felt weird.
“You seem in an awfully good mood today?” I said, clicking my seatbelt and she laughed.
“I had a lot of time to think, you know? Maybe forgiveness has its perks!” And with that, she stomped on the gas and peeled out of the parking lot and out onto the street.
“Star?! What are you doing?!”
“We’re going to get burgers, duh!” She said, the car fully sideways, wheels spinning with smoke pouring off them as she slid out into the street. We slid in front of someone and they honked angrily but that didn’t even phase her. Suddenly the car shifted from a leftward direction to the right, and my organs shifted right along with it too, from one side of my body to the other.
“Star…” I yelled, grabbing onto whatever I could. She was just laughing like a hyena beside me, once again enjoying every second of torture she was putting me through. The car glided through an intersection, the nose of the car pointed to the sidewalk as the rear bumper threatened to strike cars in the oncoming lanes. Star meanwhile was in a delicate dance with her feet and hands, using the clutch, brake, and gas along with the steering wheel to guide the car through this constant skid. Just as I thought we were about to hit the curb she kicked the clutch and the car shifted back to the left violently, the back wheels hitting and riding up on the sidewalk while still spinning wildly as now we headed towards the oncoming lanes.
“McClaire isn’t the only one who can drive a car at the edge of control!” She laughed.
“This isn’t funny!” I yelled as she shifted the back end of the car again and again, fishtailing down the street. I learned later in life this was called drifting, a sort of dance people do by powersliding the car around turns to show off. At the time, I had no idea people knew how to do this eventually, I just assumed we were out of control. At one point, we came across another car going our direction.
“Star, car! Star… There's a car in our way!”
“Yeah, what about it?” She said, reaching down to grab the handbrake. Suddenly the world spun, as did my stomach, and now we were rolling backwards down the street, Facing the wrong way to traffic, we rolled to a stop beside this other car at the traffic light. The driver, a younger guy in a suit, driving a yellow 57 Chevy looked over, his face one of utter confusion as Star blew him a kiss and stomped on the gas again. The wheels erupted into smoke again, and suddenly we were twirling, around and around this Chevy in a perfect circle. The man’s head followed our car, looking as shocked as I was terrified.
“Star, please, I don’t know how much more of this I can take…”
“Don’t worry, we’re almost there!” She laughed, as soon we were sliding back and forth down the street again, leaving the 57 Chevy and its driver far behind in a cloud of smoke. Back and forth, the engine roaring, the tires screeching until finally she grabbed the handbrake again. The car launched into this long lazy slide, heading straight for the sidewalk.
“STAR!!!” The wheels hit the curb, and the car popped up onto two wheels, hanging in the air for a moment before slamming back down on the ground. Panting hard, I realized slowly that we were still alive, and that she had shut the engine off and took the keys out of the ignition. We were sitting right outside of a little hole in the wall burger spot, with the entire crowd and staff now staring at us.
“We’re here! Not my best parking job, I must admit…” She said, peering out the window.
“We’re alive? We’re alive! What the hell was that about!?” I asked.
“I guess I can’t kill you now, but I can try to scare you to death!” She said with a smirk.
“I’m driving back.” I demanded.
“Be my guest.” She laughed, handing me the keys. I realized why she was so willing a few minutes later. A couple of white paper bags full of sliders in hand, there was now a police officer waiting by the Mustang, a ticket book in one hand, and a parking boot in the other.
“Uh, what do we do?”
“I don’t know, you’re the one driving?” Star giggled evilly.
McClaire was not happy, when about 45 minutes later, having returned to the hotel on foot, we informed her the car had been towed.
“Seriously Star?” She muttered, putting her head in her hands.
“Hey I didn’t do it, Roadkill has the keys…” She said casually, before chowing down one of the sliders.
“Yeah, and he just happens to know how to drift?” McClaire growled, pointing at me as I was sitting in the corner, still shaking a little bit from the whole experience.
“People are full of surprises, you know?” Star said, clearly not caring. She grabbed a cheese stick and smiled, trying to look as innocent as she could.
“Ugh… Well guess who’s waking up at 5 am to go get it out of impound with me?”
“The fun way or the legal way?” Star giggled.
“Depends on how much you pissed the town off?”
“Fair. Anyway… Roadkill, you want a burger?” Star asked me. My stomach was still twirling and spinning, made worse from the exhaustion of the long walk back.
“Just save me a couple for later…” I said, laying down on the floor. Star shrugged and smiled a little as she looked back at McClaire and said.
“We’re even now.” McClaire rolled her eyes and then laughed too.
“Whatever, give me one of those.” She sighed, pointing to the bag of sliders. I went to bed early, knowing we would be up before dawn.
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