i can’t remember what year it was, ’72, ’73, i took my first trip to bonneville in the company of jack lufkin.
jack stopped off in west covina to pick me up on the way. we were in a caravan with several others from jack’s crew and ak miller’s garage.
as with any sane person leaving socal to travel into the mojave desert in late august we left in the early evening.
we made our first stop in barstow for dinner.
before i go any further i need to explain that jack almost couldn’t make it to bonneville that year due to a health issue. at the last minute he was given medical approval to go racing.
after leaving barstow and gaining a few miles under our wheels jack realized that he left his meds sitting on the table in the coffee shop.
we turned around, but the busboy swept the table clean and tossed out all of jack’s meds.
the manager sent the busboy dumpster diving, the poor guy.
after about 20-minutes he came up for air with two of them but not the most important 3rd prescription.
fortunately, jack said he had a solution.
we continued our trek stopping at the rest area coming down the eastern side of the baker grade. jack and i were the only ones to not get any sleep as we wandered about the rest area trying to not think about bonneville while everyone else napped.
eventually, we pulled into las vegas where the time/temp sign on the mint announced that it was 3:00 am and 102 degrees.
after reaching u.s. 93, as the sun arose, we came upon a lone white wild mustang that insisted on racing us. guess he didn’t know he was choosing-off jack.
we slowed down to watch the beautiful creature until he veered away from us with his mane and tail trailing behind him like yarn taped to a roof and truck.
breakfast at the old chevron station in alamo was accompanied by a phone call to dr. nathan ostich (yeah, that guy) so he could phone a replacement prescription into ely and a quick exploration of the dump across the highway for artifacts and we were on our way.
after jack booked us rooms at the old motel on the corner of u.s. 50 and u.s. 93 we headed over to the rexall.
after speaking with the pharmacist we walked over to the hotel nevada for a bite. on the way out jack stopped off at the crap table.
now, the only thing i know about craps is: jack lufkin knows all there is to know about craps!
he tossed the dice 3 or 4 times, grabbed up his tokes and said, “let’s go!”
“don’t you want to play some more?” i asked.
“i just won $500!” he pronounced with a laugh.
we walked back over to the rexall where jack treated me to my first ever black and white ice cream soda. it was like my first day of life.
back to the motel; jack went to bed and i pulled the cover off of the car to “polish” it.
within minutes one of the local young ladies stopped to see the pretty car.
i got back in time the next morning to meet jack in the parking lot as the sun was coming up.
no sleep and we were off for breakfast where i learned that jack returned to the hotel nevada after a nap to thoroughly clean their clocks.
several other stops along the way at various sites to hunt for artifacts and we were in wendover.
now, jack lufkin is a first class kinda-guy.
when you pit for jack he pays for your room, your gas to get there and the compulsory crew breakfast every morning; chances are he is also going to buy your dinner, but dinner is not compulsory.
finally, we are on the salt and the pit is erected.
jack, besides being a first class kinda-guy, loves a good laugh, especially at those who might be considered thorns in his side:
one of the things that jack was most proud of about his bosch fuel injection was that it was chokable and it could be started without priming, outboard starter or any other antics or acrobatics.
jack got in the car, fired it up and idled it through the pits while i followed on my brother’s mini-motorcycle. when he reached a particular board member’s pit he clicked it off, allegedly, to talk to me and then re-fired up the chevy, put it in gear and idled it away from the studebaker.
in its day, there was no car as sanitary as jack’s kurtis, except maybe bob herda’s streamliner before… well… before.
it looked like the space shuttle underneath those body panels; everything was clean and everything was done right!
when i bought the ranchero from craig lund jack warned me that if he saw any sheet metal screws on it he was going to come over and take them all out.
the tonneau cover was fastened to the sidewalls with sheet metal screws.
we made a new anodized aluminum cover and used dzus fasteners before jack could come over and do his refining.
whew!!
to be continued
