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RAMBLINGS OF AN OLD HOT RODDER, by Bob McMillian Back in 1949, I was on vacation with my father and a couple of guys that worked for him. We were enroute from Yellowstone to the Grand Canyon and by chance passed by the Bonneville Salt Flats and I saw some hot rods going onto the salt. I remembered seeing an article in Hot Rod Magazine about the event and realized that this was it. After much cajoling, I talked my dad into stopping for a while to check out the event. That first mini-moment was later to return as a full-blown obsession. In high school there were a few lucky guys who had cars. One in particular I still remember, a '34 five window coupe that had been chopped 1 �". That doesn't sound like much, but '32 and later Fords were tall in the top because everyone in those days wore hats. The tall tops enabled you to drive without taking off your hat. My high school buddy's '34 looked like the way Henry should have built it, without having the "chopped top" look. My early high school days ('48-'49) were spent in Coronado, CA High School. During the summer of 1950, my father, a career Naval Officer, was transferred to Long Beach. I spent the first half of my junior year at Woodrow Wilson High School in Long Beach. I have vague recollections of going to the Clock Drive-In in Long Beach in those days. Half way through my Junior year, my dad got transferred again to San Francisco. We settled in Berkeley, and I spent the second half of my Junior year and my Senior year at Berkeley High School, where I graduated in 1951. During my Senior year, I started hanging around with some guys from Elmwood Auto Club in Berkeley, and got the car bug big time. I helped one of my buddies prep his '32 roadster for the then new Oakland Roadster Show. The gold that year went to a guy from San Francisco named Rico Squaglia and his "T" roadster. I also was part of the pit crew on a drag race car that we ran at the old Lodi drag strip. The car was a '34 coupe with a long sloping nose that tapered down from the firewall to the front axle. It might have been one of the ugliest cars I have ever seen. However, for the day, it was blazingly fast. We held the track record, which incidentally was a shared record for top speed anywhere at, are you ready, 120 mph. The car was powered by a rear mounted nitro burning flathead. The motor was coupled directly to the rear end with an in and out box from a sprint car. The rear end was a Pat Warren two speed, and the car was shifted by the use of a kill button. Primitive, but effective. My senior year was also significant in that it was that year I built my first hotrod. My dad decided it was time for me to have a car. I had one in mind, which I took him to see. It was a gorgeous (especially for the time) '32 Ford five window. It had a full-race flathead with all the goodies, chrome wheels, shiny paint, etc. My dad wasn't impressed. We went home and a few days later he presented me with my first car, a '40 Packard Convertible. God, how I wish I had that car today. Unfortunately, I told my dad that I didn't want an "old man's car" and had him take it back. I ended up with a Model "A" coupe. Well, one morning on the way to school, I became distracted for a moment coming down the hill from our house, drove up a bank and promptly rolled the car. I ended up sitting on the passenger side running board when the car came to a stop (seat belts had yet to be invented). Other than bumps and bruises, I was OK. The car was slightly worse. There was a fairly large dent in the left rear corner of the top and all four fenders were slightly scuffed and bent. Having no particular bodywork skills at that time, I promptly removed all the fenders and put the car back on the road. I had a friend with a Deuce roadster and he allowed as how he wanted to channel his car. I thought that it was a good idea and decided to channel the coupe as well. I had talked to another friend who told me about a way to channel a car without cutting up the floor. The problem with cutting out the floor, especially with a roadster body, is that you lose all the structural integrity of the body when you do that. The alternative method is to take the body off the frame. You then take the bare frame. punch out all the rivets in the middle and rear crossmembers except one on each side. You then drill out all the holes to 5/16", put in a couple of bolts in each end of both of the crossmembers, and then drill out the remaining holes. That done, you remove the crossmembers and tie a rope across the back end of the frame. Using a short piece of wood or pipe, wind the rope until the rear of the frame is narrow enough to slip through the hole in the firewall. Note: you need to notch the firewall to accept the frame before you start., except for '32s which have a removable firewall. Once the frame in inside, you unwind the rope and reinstall the crossmembers, using 5/16" bolts, lock washers and nuts. You now drill holes in the bottom lip of the frame, using the original bolt holes in the body. I used some old fire hose, obtained from the local fire station, for insulation between the frame and body. The frame was now inside the body, and the body was intact and maintained its' original structural integrity. The fire hose provided a squeak free insulation. Obviously, portions of the floor had to be removed to provide clearance for the transmission, rear end, etc., but overall, the body was tight and rigid. My little coupe still had the banger, which I enhanced with a downdraft manifold and a Winfield head. I found that it ran faster than it stopped, so I upgraded to a set of juice brakes I scrounged from the local wrecking yard. When I graduated from high school in 1951, I entered UC Berkeley, which I attended for one year. In the summer of 1952 I was off to the US Naval Academy, so I gave the coupe to one of my Berkeley buddies, along with a '32 five window body I had picked up for my next project. Damn, I wish I had that body back. Even more, I wish I had it back and it was a three window body. Fast forward to about 1958. I am now married and a San Diego Police Officer assigned to the Northern Division. I live in Pacific Beach and my across the street neighbor is a guy by the name of Russ Eyres. Russ is now the SCTA secretary, and his son Eric is the San Diego Roadster Club President. At the time I had a '46 Merc convertible. I had nosed, decked and dechromed that car and when it finally gave up the ghost, I bought a '53 Olds convertible. I promptly nosed and decked that car. I later acquired a '29 Ford Roadster Pickup with a flathead for power. I still own that car, although it is in many pieces in my garage. On my daily drive to work I noticed a '27 Ford Roadster Pickup parked in a Mobil Station on La Jolla Boulevard. One afternoon I stopped in and inquired and found out that the owner was a fellow by the name of Lou Bingham. Later I helped Lou with a '32 Ford five window he was building. He wanted to chop the car and the best guy around was a bodyman by the name of Bill Barber. Trouble was, Bill did his best work when he was about half toasted. One night, we invited him over, bought him a case of beer, and at about 2AM he chopped the coupe. He did a masterful job, and in fact, that car recently appeared in Street Rodder magazine. It ended up with a guy back east who restored it to its' original glory. Lou campaigned the car at El Mirage for several years before he finally sold it. I even took the coupe to El Mirage and ran it a couple of times when Lou couldn't make the meet, in order to rack up club points. Along about the same time, Lou decided to build a Bonneville car. He acquired a '29 Ford roadster body (steel, of course) and built a full on race car. The entire body was cut into pieces and was fastened to the frame with dzus fasteners. After Bonneville, the whole body was removable so we could clean the salt off the car. That car is running today at El Mirage and Bonneville, and is currently owned by another San Diego Roadster Club member, Doug Eyres, Russ Eyres' brother. The first year I went to Bonneville with Lou was 1961. Lou was a San Diego Roadster Club member and I remember asking to join the club. At that time I was still a San Diego cop. The club told me that they didn't want a cop as a member of the club. Oh well! In 1963, I left the police department and was promptly accepted as a member of SDRC. I continued as a crew member on Lou's car until he broke the engine on a record run in 196X and retired the car. In the mid '60's, I acquired a '50 Chevrolet pickup. I promptly pulled the six and installed a '53 Olds 324 engine that I had bored .030 over to 355 cu. in. I originally had a four barrel manifold on the engine but when smog rules came along, I installed a dual quad manifold because there was no provision to smog engines with multiple carburetors. A year or so later, they upgraded the smog rules to allow them to test engines with more than one carburetor. I then came upon a guy with an Olds 4-71 blower setup he had purchased to put on his boat. That project sank or got sold and I acquired the blower and manifold and put it on the truck. The truck managed to run 135 mph at El Mirage, which I thought was pretty good for a vehicle about as streamlined as a single car garage door. I also ran the truck at a lakes meet SCTA ran down on a dry lake bed in Mexico called Laguna Salada. As I recall, the truck ran about l32 mph down there and the Mexican spectators went ballistic because the truck was stock Chevrolet Dark Green/gray primer, and looked like most of the local pickups. We only ran one meet down there, so I guess I have the only world's fastest Mexican Pickup Truck. In 1967 I hooked up with Jerry Tucker, later to become SCTA President, as a driver for his '27 T modified roadster. In mid '68 I went 181 mph at El Mirage in E Modified Roadster, on a 182 mph record. The car, at that time, had a 258 cu. in. small block Chevrolet on alcohol. Unfortunately, on the second run I spun the car and wounded the motor. We later acquired one of Mickey Thompson's 4-71 blown Tempest motors. That was in the car for the '68 Bonneville meet. The normal '68 Bonneville was rained out and didn't run until later in the year. At the time the meet actually was held, I was in Law School and couldn't return. In '69 we ran the car and had an incident where the motor leaned out and blew the blower off. We pulled the blower manifold, installed a set of my Hilborn injectors and set a record, (so puny on an open record class that I am ashamed to claim it). The car was later sold and wrecked at El Mirage when the driver hit a boonie bump on an after hours tach run. I kind of got caught up with being a lawyer after that and although I continued going to Bonneville, quit driving for a while. In '69 and '70 I was a SCTA Board Of Directors member. I was a Bonneville tech inspector for several years and then got tapped to work in the tower with Otto Crocker, who was the Chief Timer. Otto was getting along in years and the SCTA was concerned that he had gotten to the point where he couldn't find his way to Bonneville unassisted, so I became his driver/co-pilot. I did this for a couple of years before Otto retired, and it was during this time that I was responsible for taking Otto to his first house of ill repute. We were on our way to Bonneville and stopped in Las Vegas for gas. Apparently, while checking the various fluids (we used to do that regularly in the old days), I inadvertently neglected to properly tighten the radiator cap. Well, we took off and a ways down the road the car started to overheat. Fortunately, we were going by the area where a lot of bawdy houses were located. I pulled in to one of the facilities (these were a number of trailers pulled together to make one interconnected building) to get some water. After refilling the radiator, I asked Otto if he wanted a cold drink. Upon receiving a positive response, I took Otto inside. They had a room with a large couch occupied by several voluptuous young ladies that we bypassed and went into the bar. Otto ordered a soda and I had a beer. He said, "This is a nice place, is it some kind of a dude ranch?" The bartender, a comely Asian girl looked at me as I answered, "Well, a lot of dudes end up here." The Asian girl busted up and Otto didn't have a clue why. Well, when we got back in the car, I looked at Otto and said, "Well, Otto, you have just been to your first House of Ill Repute." Otto looked at me and said, "You mean that was a whorehouse?" "Yes indeed," I replied. Otto got an embarrassed look on his face and didn't reply. When I got to Bonneville later that day, I proudly announced to all present that I had taken Otto to his first ever whorehouse. Everyone cracked up and that was one of the most memorable moments of my Bonneville experience. As an aside, I believe I hold the record for the slowest trip to Bonneville originating in the continental United States. I believe it was in '73 or '74, when I volunteered to drive the Rod Riders truck to Bonneville. The Rod Riders had an early 50's Chevrolet one ton stake bed truck, powered by a similar vintage Olds engine, which had been converted to a support vehicle. It had a canvas cover, kind of like the old Conestoga wagons. There was a steel frame over the flatbed with an I-beam that ran the length of the back, plus about three feet overhang. There was a chain hoist on rollers that would pick up one of the spare engines and could then drop it into a car pulled up behind the truck. The truck was also loaded with several members' tool boxes. Well, I left Bruce Geisler's shop at midnight on the Wednesday before Bonneville, accompanied by a teenager by the name of Mike Cook. Yes, that Mike Cook, son of Doug Cook of Stone Woods and Cook fame, later to become SCTA President. Well, it went pretty well until we got to the bottom of Cajon Pass. On the way up the hill, the engine started to overheat. I checked the back and found that we had several cans of race fuel, but no water. Well, it was drive a couple of hundred yards, stop and wait for the engine to cool off, drive another couple of hundred yards, etc. It took us 8 hours to get to the top of Cajon Pass, where I filled up the radiator and got some spare water. Once we were on flat ground, the truck seemed to run OK, but just a few miles later, the truck started missing and got hot again. I realized at this point that the Olds had blown a head gasket. I pulled into the back of a gas Station in Victorville and Mike and I sacked out in the back of the truck for the night. Early the next morning I got up and started checking the back for tools. I discovered that there was a probably a zillion dollars worth of tools in the truck, but they were all in tool boxes, and all the tool boxes were locked. I got on the phone and finally reached one of the Rod Riders who hadn't left yet. He went over to the shop, got some tools, including a rattle wrench, two head gaskets, and two spare heads. In due course, he arrived in Victorville, and Mike and I replaced both heads and head gaskets on the truck. It is now Friday evening and we struck out with renewed vigor. Our good fortune only lasted as far as the Agricultural Inspection Station in Yermo. For those of you unfamiliar with the area, Yermo is not that far from Victorville, only about 43 miles. I am zinging along a pretty good clip, trying to make up for lost time, when one of the pistons decides to go on strike and develops a large hole in its' top. Well, I hoof it back to the Ag station and use their phone to call a tow truck. The tow truck drags us a couple of miles away to a Motel, and I use that word loosely, where we spend the night. At least it was better than sleeping in the truck. Early in the AM, I get on the phone and call the State Line Hotel in Wendover. Well, everyone who is there is out on the Salt or getting inspected. I leave a call back number and Mike and I wait. About 5PM, I finally get a call from all people, Alex Tremulis. I tell Alex our problem and he says he will find someone from the Rod Riders and give them our number. Later in the evening, I get a call from someone, I tell them the problem and they tell me to stand by, someone will come back and get us and the equipment. In due course, two pickups and a Ranchero show up. We offload the spare engines, tools, etc. and head out back to Wendover. We finally roll into Wendover at 10AM on Tuesday morning., a mere 130 hours to travel about 665 miles, an average speed of approximately 5.1 mph. When Otto retired and stopped timing Bonneville, the timing duties were taken over by another San Diegan, Daryl Smith. Daryl started supplying the timing equipment in 1973. I hooked up with Daryl in '75 and until Daryl was replaced in '91, we teamed up to provide the timing equipment and help to time the event. The "Chief Timer" during that period was Gary Cagle. After helping Daryl set up all the timing equipment, I assisted Gary in the tower during the event. I was the unofficial Assistant Timer during that period. Gary and I developed a friendship that lasted until Gary passed away. In '92 I returned to "civilian" life, so to speak. I continued going to Bonneville as a "crew member at large" for anyone who needed a warm body to help out. In '06 I teamed up with Mark Lintner to help out on his '68 Corvette. He let me drive the car that year and since I hadn't driven since about 1969, my B license had expired. During my licensing run, I made my all time screw up run. I managed to run out the back door on the short course at somewhere in excess of 180 mph when I should have shut off at the 3 mile running no more than 150 mph. Needless to say I got my a$$ royally chewed by more than one SCTA-BNI official. Everyone was so upset with me that they refused (rightly so) to count my license run. Undaunted, I came back this year ('07) made my license run at 150 mph, and later took a ride down the long course at 182.182 mph, an all time personal best, and 2 mph faster than Mark, the owner of the car. Not bad for a 73 year old. Let me tell you, 180+ on the salt is a better alternative to Viagra any day of the week. Next year we are looking to go 200+. See you there! In 2005, while attending the Streak, a local San Diego car show put on by the Over The Hill Gang, I noticed a '29 Roadster Pickup with a for sale sign lying on the floor. The car was a gennie Ford steel body car with a custom bed, a Chevrolet 350/350 drive train, a Hallibrand quick change rear end and Hallibrand wheels. I finally caught the owner and asked him if the car was really for sale. He replied that it was, although he had a friend who had expressed an interest in the car. The owner stated that his friend would have first refusal right to the car. After some negotiation and a phone call to the friend, I ended up buying the car. I determined that my original '29 RP couldn't be put on the road for what I could buy the new one for, and in fact, I couldn't duplicate the new car for what the owner was asking for it. Happiness is a street rod you can drive, rather that a pile of parts in the garage which will someday become a driver, if I live long enough. I am now in that phase of my life where I am trying to have some fun. I still work, so I can have money to play. My play is going around to car shows, racing events, etc., and taking pictures that I put up on my friend's website, www.graybeardracing.com. He and I take hundreds of pictures every month covering mostly nostalgia drag racing events, although we shot the Red Bull Air Race in San Diego earlier this year, photos I took at Bonneville, the Unlimited Hydroplane and Top Fuel Drag Boat races in San Diego, the American Le Mans Series races at Long Beach and Laguna Seca, the Winternationals and Finals at Pomona. We also shoot dozens of cars shows all over Southern California that are posted on www.suede37.com. My new "spare time" mission is to get with people who have knowledge of the early days of our sport and encourage them to sit down and do what I just did. Write your memories down while you can still remember them. Find all of those old pictures from the early days, put captions on them so others will know who the people in the pictures are and get them to someone who will preserve them. Don't procrastinate and find yourself lying in a satin lined box one day with your memoirs still on your "to do list."
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