Hurtling down Nevada Highway 318 at 160 mph, wrapped in safety gear from head to toe--not to mention 3,570 pounds of fully caged '66 Chevelle--almost everything becomes a blur. It's like being encased in a huge, manned bullet, the full metal jacket express, slicing the bordering landscape into at smear of brown and green. The pavement ahead might as well be a gray haze with a yellow streak right down the middle. And reading mile markers, like a good navigator is supposed to? Good luck. Those little road side signs disappear almost as quickly as the hordes of bugs that spatter their innards across the windshield; unlike the bugs, the signs leave no trace.
This wild ride at breakneck speed took on something of a dual personality. On the one hand, I'm traveling 150-plus miles per hour down an open highway, and suit, belts, helmet and HANS device aside, something tells me I should be more than a little scared. On the other hand, I can't deny what I'm feeling from the chassis and suspension around me--a totally planted, rock-steady ride that handled high speeds, off-camber curves, hills and dips, and whatever the course threw at us with hardly a shrug. In a nutshell, that's what my ride was like during the recent Silver State Classic Challenge, acting as navigator in the Hotrods to Hell-built '66 Chevelle From Hell, a schizophrenic ride through butt-clenching triple-digit speeds paired with road-gripping, nerve-soothing manners that made the thing seem like a warp-speed cruise through the badlands.
Right off the bat, this ride would be much different from my other trips to the Silver State (www.silverstateclassic.com). For those who aren't familiar with this event, the Silver State is essentially a time-speed rally held on 90 miles of public highway conveniently closed for the festivities by the Nevada Highway Patrol. Speed classes run from 95 all the way to 180 mph--the goal is to average as close to the target speed as possible.
Then there's the Unlimited class, where the idea is to cover the 90 miles as quickly as possible, no speed limits whatsoever. The record for the class is a blistering 207.43 mph average. I was there the year the record was set, and I have to admit that I looked up when the car passed by, thinking it was a jet out of nearby Nellis Air Force Base.
How strong does this lust for speed on a public road run? Of the 133 entrants for this year's run, 31, or almost a quarter, were first-timers. According to event president Steve Waldman, this steady infusion of new blood keeps the Silver State Classic and its sister event, the Nevada Open Road Challenge, healthy and in business.
This wouldn't be my rookie run. My first time out, navigating in a '96 LT4 Corvette in the 145-mph class, I had a hell of a wild ride and even managed to bring back a Second Place trophy. My second time out, I drove a Hotchkis-suspended police package Caprice in the 115-mph class and again had an awesomely good time, though I managed to prove that as a driver, I make a good navigator. I also illustrated how competitive most of the speed classes are, as my 115.138-mph average sounded pretty good but in reality was only good for Seventh Place in the class. Make no doubt about it; this is a competitive and dedicated group that comes out for this open-road speed fest, and they take their racing seriously. My third outing, five years in the works, would definitely take the ride down Highway 318 to a whole other level.
With all due respect to the many enthusiasts who stick the same handle on their A-body creations, I've seen the Chevelle From Hell, and better yet, I was even gonna get a chance to drive this witch's brew of NASCAR technology and street-going acumen. According to creator Steve Mcclenon, "The car was done like an early '70s stock car, when teams still had to use the stock frame."
I wanted to take every safety...
I wanted to take every safety precaution before heading down Highway 318, so the first thing I did was stop at Dark Horse Racing Safety Equipment (www.darkhorseracingsafety.com) near the Las Vegas Motor Speedway to get HANS-device anchors mounted onto our new RaceQuip (racequip.com) helmet. In our book, this is one of those things it pays to have done by a pro.
Some 285 miles of driving...
Some 285 miles of driving and a decent night's sleep later, I had arrived in Ely and headed down to tech inspection. The Chevelle From Hell had already passed tech, but each driver's or passenger's gear must pass as well. My new RaceQuip equipment passed without a problem, though I do have to admit that being required to put a piece of tape with my name and blood type on my helmet was just a tad unnerving.
Once the gear had been cleared,...
Once the gear had been cleared, the car itself got the go-to-go stickers from the tech inspectors. The "160" on the sticker indicated our chosen target speed; the "UNL" indicated that we were cleared to go as fast as the car could manage.
Saturday's activities usually...
Saturday's activities usually consist of a car show at the park in downtown Ely, but since car owner Jim Peruto had agreed to let me pilot the Chevelle From Hell in the Noon Shootout, there was no such leisure activity for me or for Peruto's man Friday Bob Jones. Jones prepared for the afternoon runs by taping over every seam and opening he could find.
As race time approached, I...
As race time approached, I got my gear on and attempted to climb into the car. This less-than-graceful attempt was my first try at climbing over the door bars and into the driver's seat. I got much more smooth at these entries as the weekend went on.
Strapped in and ready to go,...
Strapped in and ready to go, all that was left to do was sit and wait. Note the arm restraints--I didn't know they were needed, but luckily Peruto had an extra set. It was a weird experience. I know that being strapped in a race car restricts your movement, but the limited head movement due to the HANS device and the arm restraints made me feel really strapped in.