As an American gearhead, you’re usually wired to believe that California is Mecca for whatever you wish to do. It’s not far-fetched…in fact, it’s pretty accurate historically…but as I prepared to head out West for my first March Meet, I forced myself to remember to not go in with starry eyes. “This is another race, this is another event shot, and are allowed to make your opinion AFTER you leave,” I kept reminding myself as I packed up. Lohnes might be completely and utterly sold on the mysticism of Auto Club Famoso, but I went in with just a few hours of Livestream footage and a general understanding of the cars under my belt.
The trip didn’t start out well. In fact, it almost didn’t happen. Mother Nature decided that March should celebrate the tornado, and 48 hours before my flight out of Nashville was scheduled, twisters were raising hell across the central areas of the United States, with BangShift Mid-West in the bad area of prediction. Instead of getting some rest before an early morning flight, I was up all night live-tracking storms as they blew through western Kentucky. We got lucky, but another round of storms was lined up for the morning and as I drove to the airport, it was going to be a question of beating the next wave of weather. I kid you not, it came down to minutes…as we were boarding the 737, everybody’s phone started to issue panic notices. The pilot was determined to get the hell out of Dodge, and for that, I’m grateful. The last time I felt better getting on a plane and getting up to cruising altitude, I was leaving somewhere sandy and hot.
After landing, meeting up with Chad, and scoring my rental Jeep for the week, we proceeded to make the trek out to Bakersfield. I got a reminder on why I hate driving anywhere near LA Metro, that I loathe the start-stop feature that my Grand Cherokee had, and that driving down Tejon Pass towards Grapevine is one of the coolest sights I’ve seen. The Bakersfield area, by contrast, reminds me more of Iraq than it should. There is the funky smell of compost that permeates the air. There is the ever-present dust that seems to just magic itself from nowhere. As you drive past the citrus groves and the vinyards towards the gates to Auto Club Famoso…after you make a trek through the oilfields to get to that point…you start to realize just what it takes for a drag strip to exist in California – you stick it out in the middle of effing nowhere and hope nobody for a hundred miles hears it.
So far, I seem a bit negative on the whole thing then, right? That couldn’t be further from the truth. When the March Meet is in full swing, you get it. You see the seas of recreational vehicles that stretch both sides of the track. You see the stands packed, with the fences stacked with people looking over other people’s shoulders to get a glimpse of the action. You have announcers like Mike English, Donnie Couch and more who inject excitement and knowledge into the action. You have everything from the nitro cars that stuffed the seats full to those in the Hot Rod class who drive their cars. There is creativity everywhere you look, whether it’s the older gentleman on a mini-bike trailing a cooler full of moonshine to sell (who later got busted by the Kern County Sheriff’s Office), to the cars you’ll see in The Grove parked.
If there was one moment that truly defined what the March Meet could be and is to me, it was Thursday’s final test session. All of the Nitro cars were basically run as one big jumbled bag…whoever was next in the lanes, come out and run. If it was a Fuel Altered against a Funny Car, so be it. If it was a rear-engined digger against a front-engined dragster, cool. Anything went, so long as the exhaust cleared out your sinuses. This wasn’t class warfare as usual…this was a test-and-thrash session that saw teams trying to sort themselves out before qualifying started, and it was a riot to watch.
There are issues with the March Meet that frankly, I’m not qualified enough to talk about. The differences between aero bodies versus anatomically-correct Funny cars, the Hot Rod class…that’s Lohnes territory. Here’s where I stand: If you want variety, if you want action, and if you want it to feel old-school, without the massive tower or the nearby hotels, then you need to go here. If you think that racing is a dying sport, come out to Famoso for this one and see where it still lives on. Many people get hung up on the “nostalgia” part of the deal. Nostalgia is a feeling, not a look or a body style. When you get to watch two Funny Cars, one a mid-1970s Camaro, the other a late-1970s Dodge Challenger, square off with people by the thousands waiting in eager anticipation for the stage bulbs to light so that they can experience the punch in the chest that is two nitromethane-powered cars going full-kill at a track that has bleachers, a basic tower and a wide view of mountains in the distance and the orchards…that’s nostalgia.
McTaggartt….glad you got to make the trip. And got.to knock down some chorizo burritos while we waited out the rain. I was hoping you’d “get it”… I was tour guide when Lohnes made his trek. 1991 I ran Street Machine at Famoso March Meet. I’ve always raced Hot Rod class…..and always will. Once a year it’s my mecca.