Labor Day weekend started out with a bang as Two Larrys Racing made their way to Hawthorne, Nevada. We were unfortunately minus a certainly Larry C, who was temporarily replaced by alternate Larry M as the co-pilot to Larry G. Larry C was of course pleased to be folding raffia and ribbons instead of racing that weekend, as on September 18th he would be tying the green zip-tie with the love of his life and best friend, Shannon. After a relatively easy travel, Two Larrys pulled in to pit late Friday night and anticipated the next days events.
Saturday started bright and early with the familiar desert sun glaring like KC HiLites on trophy truck. The Green Booger pre-ran the course excellent, and we made notations on anticipated problem areas. Pre-running is great! We were able to find the road to the side on an uphill turn that was sure to become a class 11 bottleneck zone, and snickered about it quietly to ourselves. We also learned that our electronic fuel pump was failing and were able to remedy that as fuel to the engine is generally necessary to complete a race. Upon return from the pre-run, we were pleased to find the Messer clan gearing up for their own pre-run and the Desert Dingos at a full number of two. Richard and Jim were minus their usual legion as Burning Man fell on the same weekend as Hawthorne and everyone knows you should not drive a racecar immediately after (or during) attending Burning Man. Ten miles into the course on the pre-run, the Messers Messed-er up with a thrown rod and would not be entering the race on Sunday. The Dingos decided to spend some time admiring the scenery and desiccated lizards of the desert for about three hours, and we do believe there was a slight trail of tears disguised by silt on Jim’s cheek.
Saturday ended with an excellent barbeque and while Larry G and M retired early for the next day’s race, the fun escalated. Not burdened with the excitement of the impending 225 miles, the Messer clan really hammed it up and paid dearly for it the next day. Ah, lessons learned; creative people, bottles of rum, and coloring pens DO mix well. As long as you’re not the one “sleeping.”
Sunday started bright and early once again, with final preparation being made to the Green Booger, who was raring to go with a full belly of 110 and the means to use it. Our hastily trained pit crew comprised of supportive parents, for both Two Larrys AND the Desert Dingos, were slightly relieved that the Messers remained in the pit for appreciated assistance to both class 11 race teams. The race had a great start and the Green Booger maintained the pressure behind David Oram’s 9 car and the Desert Dingos. At about mile 15, the sand and lack of wind made for quite a spectacular non-view as the Dingos took nasty spill around the corner and sand shot straight above the already thick air as #1107 nose dived and rolled to its side. With near zero visibility, #1112 missed the turn and landed into a hole between the race track and another road. The decision was made to sacrifice #1112’s reverse by rocking forward and back to make a slight path for ourselves, then digging out the tires for better traction. With Larry G at the wheel and Larry M pushing at the front of the car and anticipating trucks at any moment, the Green Booger was once again on course after checking that the Dingos and David Oram were alright.
The roller coaster proved to be every bit as fun and laugh-inducing as promised, and #1112 even made fourth gear with our feet levitating. The silt proved every bit as eye-grinding, throat choking, fuel sucking, and filter clogging as promised. The last ten miles of the course proved to be as tire-chewing, rut-ridden, rock-littered, and hoping-that-a-truck-or-car-didn’t-want-to-pass as promised. Oddly enough, #1112 was only passed three times throughout the whole race by trucks or cars (though also once by a UTV, once by two nine cars each), and that is an eerie feeling of anticipation. Two Larrys and #1112 were thrilled to pull through the finish line sans one fender with a first place and once again taking a tentative grasp on the season first place as well, but also relieved that the Dingos were on their way safely. They have been excellent competitors, along with the Messer clan, and we look forward to each race we converge at. As special thank you to both Larry G and Larry M’s parental units, as they provided us with great pit care, even greater meals, and a shower! Though the Messers couldn’t participate in the race itself, they made the decision to remain at the track and were of critical assistance to both #1107 and #1112. A monumental thank you to the VORRA team for their hard work and for providing such a great racing atmosphere that is so family friendly and a pleasure to take part in.
The race itself was action packed and adrenaline driven with the obstacles encountered and the camaraderie of constantly working and talking with an excellent driver next to you just to save the car and finish the race. One can experience an exhilaration on that last lap coming over the rise in the last seven miles when you see the vehicles of pit glittering in the desert distance below you. It’s really amazing how as a pit crew, you remain behind with your beer and friends and family, waiting for the next go-round of less than five minutes of flurried, chaotic action when your car pulls into pit. As a racer, those are the quickest six hours packed with adrenaline, communication, quick-thinking, problem solving, and an upper-body workout you will ever spend in your life. Once you obtain a sample of that in your blood there’s no other place you want to be.
Two Larrys Guide to the Co-Driving Noob:
- Remember that you have an open green Sharpe for notes in your hand during the pre-run when you wipe the hair from your eyes multiple times. You will definitely remember later.
- Yes, the blower is still working. Remember, you are in silt. It will just make a small volcano replica when you dump the filter at home.
- Know your right from left. ‘Nuff said.
- That’s not sweat, that’s your Camelbak leaking down your arm.
- It’s quicker and easier to read the oil pressure and temperature for your driver like a backwards blood pressure reading. 210 over 45!
- Rollcage bruises make great stories. They’re the gift that keeps on giving.
- Eight hour hummers DO exist!
- You need good communication in a race car. If your driver is your significant other, you should have good communication in general for obvious reasons. If you don’t communicate during the race, it will certainly be communicated later that your communication sucked, especially if you didn’t communicate and it caused a miscommunication during the race that really should have used good communication to save the car. Luckily, Two Larrys experienced the good communication option. 😉
- Oddly enough, shards of toilets can be found in the desert.
- If you wave to the yellow chicken pinata in the desert, it will wave back.
- Turn the volume up on the radio BEFORE calling out to pit.
- Little blue Volkswagen flags are AWESOME to put on your radio mast, and help you know where your crew is at.
- Speaking of radio, know the lingo even at least slightly. “1112 pit, this is 1112 race. Five miles from pit, out of gas and need two fuel cans and tin snips ready. Thank you. Copy 1112 pit. 10-4.”
- Showers are underrated.
- Gorilla tape, while amazing and god-like in it’s ability to adhere, does not keep a fender on. Just let it go.
- Leopard, er, Zebra Snuggies really bring out Shannon’s eyes.
- Tight fit of co-driver bands actually means loose. But it will fit around the firesuit just fine.
- When your driver states a rock hit his foot, he doesn’t actually mean the rock hit where his foot was on the pan/pedals. He actually means the rock sliced THROUGH the pan and ACTUALLY hit his foot.
- If you drink a lot of rum, and you’re not a drinker in the first place, then you fall asleep in the chair with a beer in hand people WILL turn you in to a drawing board. Suddenly, you have brought back the Hitler ‘stache, had a heart tattoo on your face, been berated by the paparazzi, told you’re not gay, had your ear licked, commiserated with by those who also do not drive the car, and then tucked into bed like a baby only wake in the morning and bring back the yell, “WHAT THE HELL?”
- Feet levitate while in fourth gear over roller coasters. This makes you giggle like a school girl.
- Reverse in sand will ruin your gear. Unless of course you’ve been babying second since Battle At Primm and knew you were going to rebuild the transmission before October Prairie City anyway. Then it’s game on, let’s get the heck outta here.
- Shannon’s canvas tool bags make great speed jumps. They also make you giggle like a school girl.
- The proper terminology for a lost tire in the road, be it a spare or a rimless job, is, “OH, my tire!” followed by peals of laughter.
- If you leave your cell phone unattended at the dinner table, a Dingo named Jim will take it and play pranks on concerned Larry C who gives great descriptions of Larry G and Larry M for “Lost and Found.”
- A Dingo named Jim will also leave you hanging for 45 minutes while he Tweets with a good found connection, though he definitely makes up for it with the generous offered use of his hotel shower.
- Wave your arm so trucks and cars know you see them, though not too frantically and don’t hit your driver in the head while executing said wave. Hopefully they can see it behind you…? We know you’re there!
- BJ doesn’t even stand up anymore around the M45 turn when he sees the Green Booger coming. He just politely lifts his beer in your direction.
- Yes, that was a fender that just shot up in the air next to you. Yes, it makes a terrible noise when it’s wrapped inside the tire. Yes, that was the fender again flying upwards. No, you cannot stop and take it off because A. that’s just silly to lose precious time B. you’re in the last ten miles of the race on lap two and everyone knows what that was like and C. it’s through the bumper brackets…just let it go and cut it off.
- Keep track of your mirrors every minute or so, know your distances, and communicate what you see to your driver. Dialogue would seem something like, “No trucks yet…………truck spotted, two miles back.” (30 seconds later) “Truck 1/4 mile behind…………no, car I believe, lot’s of dust…….car 200 feet behind, straight ahead but hazard tree on right…got my hand up..50 feet, crap no visibility! Where is he?!” (Larry G) “Damn, he’s passing us, oooo Sam Berri!” (rocks splatter hood and windshield) “….Glad we have a windshield…”
- If you are running out of fuel on the last ten miles (and you didn’t pit first lap), you very nearly miscalculated how much fuel the silt would hog. Good news! If you let the car sit for about 30 seconds, the sponge in the cell with drain enough fuel to keep you going to pit. You might stop a couple more times, but hip-hip-hooray when you make it.
- Good news! When you run out of fuel in your 1973 454 Suburban on the way home where there are no gas stations for miles, you have a fuel drum on your trailer and old Suburban beasts thrive on leaded fuel.
- More good news! If both Jim AND Richard are somehow behind you, they will stop to see if you are okay while you’re refueling the Suburban. They will also christen a new nickname for you, ‘Outta-Gas Gary!”
- When white class 11s are rolled twice in the same racing year, they look like they spent the night in a cell with an angry gorilla and sport mo-hawks.
- A double-rainbow….WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!
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