The Road to Maderas

So here we are, this is what all our hard work and preparation had led up to - the first day of racing. It's time to become a navigator/co-pilot. Getting dressed, I realized that this was the real deal, putting on a driving suit, fireproof socks and shoes, strap on a helmet and don't forget the route book, this day would was going to be like no other.
Downstairs at breakfast, we said our "hello's" and "good luck's" to the drivers and navigators we saw, and were advised to eat hardy, because this could be the only meal of the day. Our pal Logan, who was going to drive our support vehicle, was now co-driving for Chip John, so he was off to the Falcon camp. Once down at the car, our last minute adjustments included checking the basics- air, water and oil, and fiddling with a video camera we brought but hadn't mastered. Chip's wife Jo, was towing a trailer, so we threw in a couple of parts and an extra spare tire, just in case.
The master plan was for all the cars to line up at the hotel and be escorted across the city to a plaza there the town folk could take a look, someone could say a few kind words, and there would be a ceremonial start of the race. Chihuahua is a pretty fair sized city, and Friday morning traffic can make things interesting. Our escorts were the Transit Police in their Nissians and Federal Police in their new Dodge Chargers. About every intersection was manned by a police, but someone always tries to sneak through, that's where our REALLY loud horns got people's attention. Once we got to Plaza Hidalgo, the cars lined up around the statue of Pancho Villa. There were maybe 50 to 75 curious onlookers checking things out, as the race director Chacho Medina, did his thing for the crowd and participants, a few pictures taken, then we were off towards the first velocity section. Now it was full speed ahead north, about 50 kilometers. We still had escorts, and the traffic was moving better so the trip out of town was pretty quick. There's something mighty neighborly about barreling along at 100 mph and having a Federale pass you, giving the "thumbs up". After the turn towards Aguacaliente we came to the first speed section. We were starting lucky 13th, which was kind of a surprise since we were inexperienced at this. Rick's a good driver, but we thought we'd be at the back of the pack. Maybe they wanted to keep all the "C" Historic cars together. As we waited for our turn, I'll admit I was a little nervous, we had talked about making a check list so we wouldn't forget anything too important, like putting on our helmet, or pulling the safety pin for the fire system. I even remembered to get a time card. The tech inspector came by and reminded us to tighten our seat belts and not to drive off any ravines. All good advise. Around then, the in-car communications failed, I could hear Rick, but he couldn't hear me. I was going to be doing a lot of yelling and pointing.
Both the Chihuahua and the La Carrera races are set up as what's called a pro-rally. You have a route book and there are penalties for arriving too early or too late at timing points. Basically the navigators job is to comprehend all this and get us to the right place at the right time. As we moved closer to the first timing official or what's called the the "Z control", the realization came that I didn't have a clue how the timing worked. We were sure that if you got there too early the penalty was worse than being too late. We decided to stay a minute and a half behind the car ahead of us, and hope he knew what he was doing. The car in front moves to the next control, "A" and is given the green flag to start the speed section. We wait for 90 seconds and move up to the starting point. The countdown begins .... 3,2,1, GO, and we are off. The other part of the navigators job is to read the route book and tell the driver what's ahead. Everything that's on the road is listed in the book. The turns are rated from 1 to 4, 1 being a very slight curve and 4 being a hairpin turn. All the kilometer and road signs, bridges, and slopes are listed also. This part I grasped very quickly, wanting my driver to know there was a 3 1/2 rated left hander coming right after going 110 mph over a blind slope. But that's what makes it fun!










Unfortunately, it didn't take long to know something wasn't right with the car. It started to act like it wasn't getting gas, even though we turned on the auxiliary electric fuel pump. At least one car, a 544 Volvo, had mechanical trouble and was already finished. This first speed section had lots of uphill driving to it, which we made it through, but it became clear that the car had something very wrong with it. It just would not accelerate, it could cruse along a little, but then it wanted to die. We nursed it ahead through the transit section, as every other race car, officials car, ambulance, and donkey cart passed us. Finally, that was it, we had to stop, it was find a fix or get a tow.


So now we have Rick under car investigating the whole fuel system, starting at the tank. With no gas getting to the fuel filter, suddenly the words, "why are you using that old electric fuel pump, even as a back-up" were burning in my ears from Rick's son Matt. We're using a mechanical pump for the primary, and the electric as a back up. The diaphragm had quit, and wasn't letting gas get through. Twenty minutes later, a bypass with the fuel vent line, we are back on the road. Now we tried to play catch-up. The car still wasn't right, but now it was just a miss, and we could deal with that. At the beginning of every speed section now, the timers had already moved ahead, so we just pushed on and tried to catch the tail end of the race. As we got to a twisty downhill section outside Maderas, we were flagged to slow down as the Silver Mustang was on its side. Nobody hurt, just a little reminder of what was possible. As we got down the hill we and saw some of the racers coming the other way, we realized two things, we were running on empty and there was a strong smell of gas in the car. We needed to find a Pemex and an auto parts store to vent the fuel cell again. This was the start of siesta time, but we got lucky to find a place just closing.




Now the race turns around and reverses course, same speed sections, backwards. We came upon a few other casualty's on the way, like the Studebaker that went off road into some pine trees. Finally at the last section we caught the end of the race, with the touring class. These cars were timed, but they're results were not counted in the standings. And unfortunately, our time wasn't taken because we were just too late. This day we would have only one of eleven speed sections counted.
On the way back to Chihuahua we made a quick stop at AutoZone and picked up a new electric fuel pump. Back at the hotel, there was lots of activity, with everyone making adjustments on their cars. We had fixed the gas problem, and now were trying to figure out why we had a ignition miss, and the carburetor still wasn't right. But that's another story, and there's a drivers meeting to get to, some dinner to eat, and let's do it again tomorrow.

Next Time: Divisadero and the Copper Canyon

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The Scrutinizer

Our first morning in Chihuahua started early, we wanted to get the car off the trailer, and see how it was running at the 6500 ft. altitude. This was also the day for technical inspection or scrutinizing of the car.

The tech inspection is to make sure all the safety features are in and on the car, seat belts that haven't expired, roll cage with correct thickness of tubing, proper fuel cell and you have what they require inside the car like a neck brace and first aid kit, stuff you hope you never use. They make sure you have a helmet and driving suit that has your name and blood type on it and that it's written on the car. They also kick the tires and glance at the motor to make sure your not running a 427 instead of a 327.

The gent who was the scrutinizer, also does the La Carrera, so we got a preview of what we need to fix for the big race. Our main problem was how the window nets were attached, and that we didn't have our names on the car and helmets. We remedied the the name problem with some vinyl letters and the nets will be fixed this summer. With that over, we were issued our "official" Chihuahua Express door and windshield stickers, we would be 'ol number 17, Whoo Hoo!
Next we had to get our Mexican road racing licences. That mainly consisted of peeling $260 usd and signing our lives away. We also needed two pictures of ourselves, so a trip to the local Walmart was in order. At this point, our new pal, Chip Johns was finding out that his navigator/co-pilot wasn't going to show up. Chip had needed some help with his Ford (Fix Or Repair Daily) Falcon and we'd let Logan help him out mechanically. Now it looked like he would be a permanent fixture in his car for the next three days.

With that settled, the rest of the afternoon amounted to figuring that we had the jetting right for the carb, getting our pictures taken, drinking beer and BS'ing with the other drivers and mechanics.

At some point the route books and first days starting order were issued, so that gave this rookie co-pilot something to get ready for. There were a few navigators who had experience running the La Carrera, so I was able to be enlightened on how it all works. Right, no problem, lets see, that's control sections T,Z,A,B,C, and sometimes D,......OK, got it! Wait.... Don't got it! Wiley Carlile who was in the rainbow Studebaker and Steve Warwick in Rachel Larrat's Lotus Elise had a lot of good advice that must have soaked in, because we didn't have any penalties, which was either dumb luck or lax timing. Or maybe.... I got it!

In the evening they had the meetings for the drivers to tell them not to crash on the first day, and another one for the co-pilots, to tell the drivers not to crash on the first day. There was obviously other things talked about, but that point was heavily stressed.

After that, it was time for a night cap and to bed, to dream about what lay ahead on our first day of Mexican road racing.

Next Time: The Road to Maderas
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The Chihuahua Express

There's nothing like crossing the border into Mexico, it feels like a whole different world, because it is!
Once out of Cuidad Juarez, the northern part of the state takes on a look of desert scrub land that begins to show mountains before too long. As you get closer to Cuidad Chihuahua, things begin to get more arid and agricultural. I'm a desert guy, so I like the look of it. I know for some, you've seen one desert, you've seen them all.
Our trip down was about a four hour ride that went from late afternoon into evening. There's a reason that folks tell you not to drive in Mexico at night, not just because of animals on the road but the humanity walking around. Somebody could get killed out there! I should tell you that Rick and I had been joined by young pal Logan Wilson, one of the mechanics at North Bay Bavarian. This was his first trip south of the border, or over any border, I think. That's why we had him driving, those youthful eyes see all!
I'd done a little homework about the layout of the city, and knew our hotel was toward the west, that's the way we went, and by God, we found it on the first pass.
Our destination was the Hotel Weston Sobrano, and from the looks of it, was the fanciest place in town. We arrived about 9pm with the parking lot half filled with race cars, trailers and tow vehicles. There were a few of the drivers and navigators around, so we said our hellos, but it had been a long day, we were ready for bed.
The next day would be for tech inspection and to get ready for the first day of racing on Friday.

Next Time: The Scrutinizer

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"Badges? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Badges!"

That's a misquioted line that is from "Treasure of the Sierra Madre". If you haven't seen that movie, that's old Mexico.
The odyssey to cross the border started at 8 AM with a list of goods we were "importing". We all gathered at a smallish trailer office in Santa Teresa, N.M. where the paper shuffling started in earnest. Tires, jacks, tools, etc, etc, for some people the list was much longer than for others. Luckily, no one had to pay any duties, we had some "official" paper that took care of that. Next, across the border and off to the Banjercito, where we get visas and permits to drive into Mexico. This is where the fun really started.
We had all our paperwork together, so visas, no problem, and the Chevy got through fine. The Toyota and trailer are considered as one, but both need a licence plate and the trailer was brand new. In California the plates are issued and mailed by the DMV and all we had was a sad little slip of paper. "Sorry boys, take it to Texas and register it" was the ex officio call. Yea, right! At that point, some folks decided to park their trailers and drive their race cars in. We were very opportune in having along Marcos Herrera from the New Mexico Border Authority. He was able to smooth out things, one after another, until everyone had their visas and permits. We might still be there without him.
Next, back into the U.S. and to the motel to pick up the trailers and head for Tex-Mex border. First thing, we had to go through United States Customs, more paper shuffling, more declarations, who knows!? Then, on to the Mexican side, and more fun with their customs ambassadors. Again, Marcos is there to keep things grinding slowly along. Finally, at 5PM, we are on our way, through Ciudad Juarez and on the road.
Oops, just one more stop, at the 30 kilometer mark, more waving of papers and checking of permits and don't forget your Mexican car insurance! At last, as the sun sets, we are on our way to Chihuahua.


Next Time: The Chihuahua Express
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The Great Southwest

We are packed, racked, stacked and jacked and the bus is leaving at 4am! The car is done for the most part, at least every things checked off the list. We are headed for El Paso, Texas to meet up with our new race compadres and cross the border into Mexico.

The trip down was uneventful, an overnight stop in Arizona, on through New Mexico, to the great state of Texas.
We were staying at a different motel than the big boys, so after checking in, we headed over to meet the masses and check out the competition. A few of the cars were already there, and we met one of the race organizers, Jerry Churchill and saw our pal Gerie Bledsoe.

The next plan was to drive a ways out of town, to a ranch owned by another racer and have some BBQ. This was a 10 mile dirt road excursion that brought us to meet, Chip and Jo Johns.

Now, I'm a BIG fan of Western Americana, and if we lived prier lives, I was a cowboy one time, and they're place is a shrine to that life. Whether it was an old Tom Mix movie poster, a death mask of Emilio Zapata or a 25 foot snakeskin, this place made me feel good. Anytime you have 5 real saddles and a horse's ass for bar stools, that's da'kind! Obviously, I really dug this place, and as it turned out, fortunately, we got to know these guys better as the days went on. Unfortunately, our stay at the ranch was cut short, we had to get back to El Paso because crossing the border the next day was starting to look shaky.

The plan was to cross into thru New Mexico, avoiding El Paso and Juarez, and an easy cruise down to Chihuahua. No, no, no, that was not to be, someone on the Mexican side got their feathers ruffled, and that began the long version of getting into Mexico.

Next Time: "Badges? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Badges!"

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