Words and photos by Warren MadsenMay 2008
The 21st running of this unlikely public road race; the high speed dream known simply as "The Silver State."
I had known about this event for a while but when CAR magazine covered it a few years back it stuck with me: there really is a highway race which advertises unlimited speed?! It's true and it's done in Nevada, the state where you can walk down the street holding a whiskey on the rocks in one hand, a lady of the night in the other, while playing a slot machine with your foot and shooting a gun with your toe. Ah, Nevada.
The race takes place just past all 6 houses of Lund, NV. technically, but everything is based out of Ely, some 30 miles away. That's where the casinos, motels and the Chevron/Arby's is, a.k.a. civilization. The Silver State consists of 3 events and a few required "displays" around Ely. You have the Speed Stop Challenge (a brutal test of man and machine, zero to 100 mph back to zero. It used to be 200 mph but no one has the balls anymore or they're finally smartening up, either way- a true tire waster), the One Mile Shootout (combined with a 1/2 mile shootout for rookies, a straightforward solo drag race) and the main event on Sunday; a 90 mile blast down Hwy 318 South. In addition, the organizers require all cars to take part in a short parade through Ely and a car show at the local park; a way to give back to a community that puts up with booming exhaust and abundant middle-aged gear heads every May and September.
I should start at the beginning. I was referred by a friend to be a navigator for this crazy deal because his wife wouldn't let him go. Why me? That's a good question. Apparently because I'm not married, have no kids, posses some motorsport experience and I'm dumb enough to say yes. Next thing I knew I was strapped into a HANS device reading notes at 170mph. It's really no wonder I'm not married. It was lucky for me though, since experiences like this are not always available and someday I might not be allowed to say yes.
The car is a 1996 Viper GTS using a Paxton supercharged 8 liter V10 for propulsion, creating around 600 horse power at sea level; Ely sits at over 5000 feet. We are set to compete in the 150 mile per hour class, meaning we need to average that speed over the 90 miles. Driver/owner of the Viper is Richard Schriver- an older gentleman who has a serious resume of speed and a great attitude about such an adventure. "We're just going to have fun," he'd say when the details began to pile up. He didn't even care to win, just wanted to drive fast. I could dig it since it took a lot of the pressure of me as navigator. All I was required to do was point us in the right direction.
We towed the Viper out to Ely from Soquel and took "the loneliest road in America" or better known as Highway 50 East. Past Fallon it's a barren and empty route with little signs of life. A few 100+ mile stretches of nothing- no services of any kind. A great time to own a Veyron and a radar detector. But as the drive went on, the Nevada nothingness slowly revealed signs of beauty and drama. Snow drifts top towering 12,000 foot peaks and wildflowers bloom throughout the empty valleys. No matter- 12 hours was still way too long to be on the road and it was a relief to get to Ely.
We woke up on Friday and went straight to the Tech Inspection area. It was my first look at the competition. A full blown cup car set to compete in the Unlimited Class was being extracted from an enclosed trailer; next to it, a yellow 800 horse power Porsche 996 Turbo Cabriolet. The overwhelming majority of cars were Corvettes and mostly newer Z06's- a great choice right out of the box. There were Porsche 928's, an Aston Martin V8 Vantage, the K&N '55 Chevy, a supercharged NSX, an RX7, Vipers, Mustangs, Ford GT's, and the like. We passed inspection and got our approval stickers then quickly made our way to the 3 mile road closed off at the end of town for the Speed Stop Challenge.
Tech inspectionAny hard 0-100-0 run will really test a car, especially it's tires and braking system; heavily. The Viper is not equipped with anti-lock brakes, so coming to a full stop without leaving a flat spot on all four tires was going to be a challenge. My job was to alert my driver when we hit 100 mph and to remind him not to come to a sliding stop. On our very first run, without fail, the front right tire locked up just enough to puff a small cloud of grey smoke. We had just done what we did not want to do. On the drive back I heard whap, whap, whap from the tire...a flat spot. We did a few more runs but the damage was done. Luckily we had brought a spare tire but it was an expensive first run. Not a good start to the weekend but better than the Ford GT that spun a full 360 and nearly flipped after it's ABS decided not to kick in.
Later, we went to the parade where I was lucky enough to hitch a ride in Mitch Clark's Audi R8- an amazing silver supercar with pure carbon accents by PPI . Mitch turned out to be a really cool Texan with great taste in cars. The Audi garnered more attention than anything else (especially on the parade route) and also won the award for most alien looking ride. Well deserved.
I went to the welcome banquet, ate my weight in chicken wings and finished the night at the Hotel Nevada with some colorful locals talking about working at the mine and playing some 3-card poker, my new favorite game. Ely was quickly growing on me.
Saturday morning, after the pancake breakfast and car show, we made it to the one mile shootout. We practiced again getting into our HANS devices, five point harnesses and arm restraints. The car felt good and we pulled somewhere close to 150 mph. Richard was disappointed and thought that the altitude was robbing a hundred horsepower from the car. I was ready for Sunday. But as we returned to the "pits" we noticed the smell of burning oil and could see a faint wisp of smoke coming from under the hood. The culprit was a crankcase breather and oil catch which was positioned incorrectly, bent and leaking black gold. We made due with a slightly different filter kicked down by the good people in the large K&N truck (convenient, eh?) and good ol' zip ties. It wasn't perfect but it would allow us to run on Sunday.
Race day starts early. We were out of the hotel by 5:15 am and all cars line up near downtown and head out on Hwy 6 with police escorts. We reached Lund and the gravel lined parking area of Lane's Truck Stop at sunrise. We are arranged by class and we sit next to the Lamborghini Gallardo of James "JC" Collier. The goal is to complete 90 miles in 36 minutes exactly. That's the goal, but remember we are only set to drive quickly; winning would be a total bonus and all luck. And besides, this is a very competitive class and it's not uncommon for winners to be off by only a second. We are the first class to run and the fourth car overall to leave the starting line.
Staging area, before the race.We are moved from the staging area and our class is parked along Highway 318 behind the starting line. It's about 8am and the sun is shining and the air is still. The views go on forever here, tracing the road down an endless valley of nothing. The mood before the start is fairly light and only racers are around now. A few laughs and chuckles can be heard before running off for that last second bathroom break. After an hour delay (because the road was not closed off properly by state officials) we begin the prep before launch: head scarf, helmet, HANS, arming the fire extinguisher, powering on the camera, 5 seat belts, 2 arm restraints, course notes, stopwatch, recheck all straps, gloves. Ready.
Two 200+ mile per hour cars: the veteran Pantera of Mike "Mad Dawg" Antonucci and the radical K&N Viper driven by company founder Jerry Mall, are first to leave. They are set into motion one minute apart. We jockey into position beside the yellow Gallardo, the large red numbers of the digital atomic clock tick slowly before us. With a waive of the green flag the Lamborghini is off! Richard and I watch as it fades into the long left hand sweeper about a mile down the road. I call off the seconds until we move and take a few deep breaths. I ready the stop watch and count down aloud to the top of the minute; we are gone!
Richard accelerates hard up to 165 miles per hour. We eat up a few easy turns before entering our first long straight. The mountains in the distance are rapidly approaching after a 7 mile shot. Driving at these speeds for a few seconds is one thing, but to press on at north of 160 for 20 minutes at a time is, well, gnarly. You get used to it but always keep a guard up.
We pass the first flag station and an obstacle is sitting in the road, just ahead in the slow lane. It looks like a black board, and as we avoid it at 150, it's clear that it was the back deck lid and spoiler of the
Pantera ahead of us. Seconds pass and the car, minus an engine cover, sits at the side of the road. One down.
We blast on further until we crest another dune laced section of road. In a blur I see a car flipped over on it's roof and against the banked hill on the left. It's the K&N Viper! I think to my self that I hope he's alright and we keep blasting down the road; Richard never saw it. Two down.
We fly past flag station 3 and enter the longest straight; 14 miles. The undulations and dips in the road make it a full time job to keep the car true at over 165 miles per hour, I call out the distance until we need to prepare for our next turn, an uphill right sweeper. Ahead of us is JC and the Lamborghini; we are catching him and something isn't right. We should be far behind him, averaging the same speed, but our speedometer must not be calibrated as accurately as we had thought...we are probably going over 170. Richard slows just a bit to avoid crowding the Gallardo. The road noise is unbelievable and the air rushing over the car is deafening. I resort to hand signals and yelling as I think about how we will need to upgrade our in-car communication for the next race.
We pass flag station 4 and 5 quickly and 50 miles of racing is behind us. We enter another downhill straight and Richard shifts into 6th gear. GRIND! Uh oh. GRIND! again. The clutch is not responding. He tries to down shift instead, GRIND! "Our race is over!" he shouts as he begins to coast. Suffering from speed blindness, Richard begins to veer off the road at over 80 mph and I shout to keep him on the asphalt until we slow way down. We eventually come to rest off the road in the gravel, 40 miles from the finish. Three down.
Where she came to rest.The rules of the race are simple. If you stop for whatever reason, you are done. You cannot re-enter the road at any time and you must hike over the bordering barbwire fence and remain there until the race is over and the highway reopened; in our case, since we were some of the first cars to go, some 7 hours later!
We scramble to exit the car before the next rocketing car approaches. I grab our two 12 ounce bottles of water, my camera, hat and the race radio. We make our way for the desert and climb over the old rusty barbwire as I realize racing shoes suck for hiking in sand. It's hot as the morning sun heats the scrub brush and dunes that surround us; and it's really quiet now.
I click on the radio and inform them of our situation. I'm not sure exactly where we ended up but I had a pretty good idea. The race airplane buzzes us to confirm we are OK as we waive our mandatory white flag. Luckily for us there are a few decent sized bushes near by and we found one to hunker down under to stay as cool as possible since, for all we knew, this was home for a while.
After a car or two passes at race speed, there is silence again. No cars are running. We assume there is a red flag related to the flipped Viper we passed earlier. We call race control again and remind them that we are in the desert (!) and probably don't have enough water (!!) for a 7 hour tour. After much static and confusion we learn a savior is coming! A red flag was in effect and they were sending a car to come get us and take us to the closest checkpoint. We left the Viper behind and arrived at radio operator Ed Raether's comfortable RV at checkpoint 5. It was a massive upgrade from the heat and flies of the bleak Nevada desert and Jerry Mall of K&N sat in his race gear waiting inside for us...after his crash he was just fine but he admits that when his wife finds out, this will probably be his last race.
The real confusion began as the race was red flagged for hours. I guess there was a communication breakdown between checkpoints which resulted in no yellow flags being posted for us, as we (and several other cars) flew by two race incidents (the rear deck on the road and the flipped Viper) at full speed. Once Nevada Department of Transportation got word of this they shut the race down and began a bureaucratic stand-off that took place just outside the RV we were confined to. I had an interesting vantage as race officials tried to convey to NDOT that the race was safe and NDOT did not appear very convinced. I can only imagine the atmosphere at the starting line. There's more to the story, but it's probably only interesting to the die hard Silver Staters out there. Eventually the race was restarted but many competitors ran out of time and did not get to run! For those teams it was truly a disaster.
No comment.
For a first look at this crazy deal, I'd say I got more than I bargained for. I think 24 hours on the road getting to Ely and back, tires with flat spots, oil burning and spilling, 5 days in the high desert and winding up in a racing suit with one bottle of water in the absolute definition of the "middle of nowhere" summed it up. It only left me determined to pull it off in September...if they decide to do it all over again. Luckily Richard an I got along great and I can only imagine our next event going much smoother.
After returning home and leaving the car at Valaya Racing Shop in San Jose, we learned that our Viper was disabled by a super-heated clutch line that ran too close to the headers. While turning high RPM's for long periods of time, the exhaust must have been red hot and boiled the clutch fluid, thus disabling the drivers ability to shift. Cooler ceramic headers were ordered and a new crankcase breather set-up devised. Also, upgrading in-car communications, gps, shift knob and seats were in the works. This time we were beaten by the tough, barren desert and reminded why this event is not a race, but a challenge...but we'll be back.
And, as always- stay tuned!
Grand touring on our way down to Carmel from Santa Cruz. Remember, almost nothing stands out along these streets. An ice-blue McLaren F1 passing one way and a black and red Veyron going the other is an indication. Our Italian probably seemed pedestrian that day except to us riding inside.
In my earlier post about the Bentley Drive, (our first stop) we were able to get our fill of torque, but the mini bar was quickly empty. This is the "I need a scotch" edition of the last Arnage. Searching for a chauffeur on craigslist...
We were graciously invited to the Mercedes exhibit at Pebble where the parking lot was slightly dominated by the three pointed star. Can anyone i.d. whats under the cover? I have my hunches. We were shown the F700 concept in detail (I got to watch a 3D movie in the back seat and inspect the sushi refrigerator center console) and a few other AMG treats by a cool German engineer who could talk concepts or 500 SECs. I hope Mercedes makes it back in '09.
Ah, the Maybach 62 Landaulet. The most ridiculously awesome Dubai sled. If any of these features makes it into a more pedestrian Mercedes down the line- sheepishly, I hope it's the real granite interior trim. It looked really cool against the white leather. I guess the sliding roof would be a cool option too, now that I think of it.
We cruised to the auction preview at Gooding & Company, camped just above Pebble. This auction was stacked with amazing blue chip's. I liked the Corvette racer, an unrestored Rolls, and a few simple Bugattis. This 1938 Alfa Romeo 6C 2300B Mille Miglia also caught my eye. Beautiful and it later sold for nearly $2.6 million.
Nothing to see here. I want this trailer behind my RV at all times. Covers most bases, I'd say.
Please note the full size camper van next to this tiny British coupe. I really shouldn't like this behemoth as much as I do. I would love to give it a run down Highway 1.
Here's what I know: it's Corvette powered, hand built, one-off, and the driver sits in the center. Obvious Lamborghini styling influences. What I don't know: why?
The last F50 I saw in public was about a year ago and not far from where I got this shot, that time a very rare black example. Here in it's familiar red, always a treat.
Rumor has it that this thing stalks Rodeo Drive during the week, looking for attention . The ugliest DHC I've encountered. Somewhere a Rolls salesman is punching himself.
"If you build it..."
The Hyperion; a Pinifarina-bodied Rolls-Royce. The star of this years concept lawn at Pebble, unveiled just after company chairman Andrea Pininfarina was killed in a tragic road accident. I loved parts of this design, and other pieces...not so much. I'd ditch the cross-eyed headlights and add something to the enigmatic rear. The long hood and two seat layout are fantastic.
Remote Sierra meadow
