Jun 2, 2012

The VORRA Yerington 300

Robert Newdoll / Uncategorized / 0 Comments

 

It was Saturday morning, and we loaded up the Bronco, tools, and the crew.  Jeff was towing Lil Hussy,

 

 

Gio was hauling three motorcycles, all the gear, and a 55 gallon drum of leaded 110 octane race fuel,

 and I had the rest of the crew in the 30 foot RV. 

Two hours of driving, and we made it to the camp sites.  We had three hours to Bleed the brakes, install new Warn hubs, and test drive it for our first time, before we had to go to Tech Inspection. 

We scrambled to get everything buttoned up, and we finally got it ready for our first test drive. 

 

 

The brakes felt better than they ever had before, and it was running pretty well.  3 pm hit, and we had to go!  My girl, Selena jumped in the passenger seat,

 

and the rest of the team hopped  into the RV and we drove into town. 

 

 

The line up of cars for tech inspection was impressive.  There was everything from old VW bugs, to dune buggies, to full on class I race trucks.

 

 

 

 

Lil hussy was the only vintage bronco around.  She was getting a lot of attention from the older race enthusiasts.  There must have been a half a dozen spectators who ran up to us to talk about an old bronco they once had.  It was a lot of fun with Lil hussy getting all of that attention.

 

We rolled up to the front of the line, and it was our turn for inspection.  First we were weighed.  We weighed in at 4500 lbs.   

 

 

She was a heavy little thing!  Next they checked out all of our safety:

Seat belts mounted to the roll cage?   Check!

Fire Extinguisher within reach? Check!

Brake lights? Check!

First aid Kit? Check!

Full roll cage that wraps into the engine compartment? Check!

Fuel cell with appropriate plumbing? Check!

Snell rated race helmets? Check!

Fire retardant race suits? Check!

 

“Well Gentlemen, this is a pretty cool truck you got here.  Everything looks good! Good luck out there!”

 

Alright!  We made it past our first hurdle.  We passed tech inspection.

 

 

 

 

Next, the drivers had to listen to the course rules and regulations.  “So, have all of you pre run the course?”  Everyone nodded, as Gio, Jeff, and I looked at each other.  We were the only ones who didn’t have time to pre run.   As our host proceeded to discuss the course, we began to realize more and more, that we had no idea what to expect.  Well, guess it will have to be a surprise!

Once our drivers speech was complete, the big parade through town was next. We headed out to the parking lot, and the rumble of all the race trucks could be heard from miles away!  The smell of race fuel pumped through our veins, and we were getting excited to show Lil Hussy off to the crowd. We took off from the parking lot, and all of the race trucks paraded through town, and eventually the parade lead us back to the pits.  What a cool experience that was.  The streets were lined with spectators, as Gio drove through the parade with me in the passenger seat.  Everyone was revving their engines, and show boating around for the crowds.  It really made us feel like super stars for a moment in time.

We all headed back to the pits in a single file line, with huge grins on our faces.  Right as Gio was pulling into camp, the bronco died!  What the heck is going on?  It seemed as if it wasn’t getting any fuel.  Earlier in the evening, right before tech inspection, fuel was leaking out of the top of our fuel regulator.  In order to pass tech inspection, we applied epoxy over the leaky hole. 

 

 

It turns out, that hole was there to allow air to enter into the regulator behind the diaphragm. The diaphram had cracked, and allowed fuel to seep out of the air hole When we covered the hole, it created a vacuum lock, and the carburetor couldn’t get any fuel.   What the heck were we going to do?  It was now 7 pm, the night before the race, and we had no regulator.

 

I scurried around from pit to pit, asking everyone for a spare fuel regulator.  One racer, Robert Cramer, said he had one back at his shop, and he would bring it to us in the morning.  He said he would be back before 8 am.  Hot diggity dog, we had a fighting chance of making it to the starting line. The race started at 8:30, so we didn’t have a minute to spare.  The next morning, we woke up and waited, racked with anxiety.  Where the heck is Robert?!?!  Sure enough, Robert came racing up in his truck.  “Here you go boys… Good luck out there!”  “Lets go, lets go, Jeff barked, as we jumped into the engine compartment with our new regulator.

 

  “Gio, Bobby, you suit up while I get this regulator installed!”Jeff barked.  At that moment, my heart was racing a million miles an hour.  The moment of truth was here.  Our first race, and we aren’t even sure if we were going to make it to the starting line.

Gio and I jumped into the rig, and waited for Jeff to finish the install.  8:20 rolled by…. 8:25 rolled by 9:00 rolled by… 

We could hear the racers taking off one by one, and we had to get there immediately before we were disqualified.  “OK, fire it up!” Jeff yelled.  The engine turned over, and Brooom, she fired.  Our hearts spiked again, as we revved her up.  “Go, go, go, get out of here” Jeff yelled.  We burned rubber out of the pits, and were the last truck to the starting line.  As we were ready to take off, we stalled her out.  We tried to start her, and the battery was too weak.  Crap!!  Brian Roberts was at the starting line on his motorcycle, along with Jeff.  Brian …. Ride back to the pits, and get the jumper box.  Brian raced through the pits, grabbed the jumper box, and sped back to the starting line.  “Go, go, hook it up the battery” I yelled from the cockpit.  We got her started, the flag snapped, and we were off.

 

The first section was rocky as sin.  With our 30 year old suspension, we were getting thrown around like rag dolls.  The terrain was super rocky with tight turns.  We climbed and descended up and down the rocky, twisty terrain, while the bronco bounced off boulders and ruts.  The carburetor did not perform well through the rocky terrain, and the motor kept trying to die.  In order to keep it from dying, I had to ride the brakes, while keeping the gas at half throttle, just to make it through the slow rocky terrain.  At about mile 20, the course started opening up.  We were finally able to get Lil Hussy into third gear, and she took off like a bat out of hell through the dried up lake bed.  The bronco loved the smoother sandy terrain.  We were power sliding through the turns, running about 7000 RPM.  As our rear end fishtailed in the sandy loam, dust clouds hovered over us.  The sound of the roaring engine, while we were ripping through the dessert, sounded like an orchestra.  As I drove, Gio had a full time job of checking all of the gauges, and spotting for cars coming up on our tail.  The minute you get caught not checking, you could have a trophy truck right up on your rear.  They don’t take friendly to having slower cars in their way.  Sure enough,  slam…. A class 1 trophy hammered us good.  Our necks whipped back and forth, as the truck cocked from side to side. It scared the heck out of us, because we didn’t see him coming.  “Oh crap Gi… where the heck did that guy come from?”  “Sorry man” G yelled “He came out of nowhere!” As we high sided into the tumble weeds, the truck raced by us, and allowed us to get back on the course again.  Next thing you know, mile 55 came up, and we were heading into the pits!  We made our first lap! Holy Cow!  I jumped out of the rig, and Jeff jumped into the cockpit.  Our pit crew re fueled, and they were off!

 

As we waited for them to complete their second lap, we all raced around the desert on dirt bikes.  When the time came, we scurried back to the pits to wait for them.  Sure enough, there came Lil Hussy.  She made it her second 55 mile lap.  The pits went wild with excitement as they pulled in.  The shock bushings disintegrated on 4 of the 14 shocks.  We took two rear shocks off that had missing bolts and ran the remaining two broken bushing shocks as is.  They were red hot from working them to death.  Jeff got out, and Gio jumped into the cockpit.  I jumped in the passenger side, and we were off again.

Gio was on the gas hard!  He was a true natural.  As he hammered through the tight rocky terrain, the front end was hopping like a pogo stick.  Lil Hussy was spitting dirt and rocks 40 feet behind us, as Gio relentlessly tackled the toughest part of the course.  We were still having major carburetor troubles, and we stalled twice.  It was extremely challenging to try to drive in the slow sections, while keeping the RPMs over 2000.  At about mile 8, Lil Hussy just shut down!  We rolled off the track, and jumped out.  We ripped the hood off, and began troubleshooting.  Were we getting spark?  Was it fuel or fire?  We removed a spark plug to test the spark, and sure enough we had nothing!  We spent two hours in the hot desert sun trying to trouble shoot with no luck.  We were lucky enough to climb to the top of a mountain to get cell phone reception.  We called our pit, and asked them to send Brian Roberts out on his motorcycle to bring us a spare coil.  It was our last hope.  As we waited in the hot sun, race trucks raced by.  Then we heard Brian in the distance.  He came barreling down the course, and pulled in beside us.  We grabbed the coil, and exchanged it with our old one.  We cranked her over, and no luck!

We were finished!  The VORRA steward came driving by to perform a sweep of the course and found us.  “You guys need to get pulled out of here?”  That was a stroke of luck.  “Heck yeah, thanks.”  We got pulled out to checkpoint 1, when a second VORRA volunteer offered to tow us back into town via  tow strap.

“You guys better hold on back there, I’ve been known to tow people faster than when they were running with their own motor!”  Hmmm. Gio and I looked at each other, and buckled our seat belts.  A hugeF250 Diesel with a 6”lift tied us off.  Mother of all creatures, this guy was not joking.  Next thing you know, we were getting towed via tow strap down a dirt road going 50 miles an hour.  Talk about a white knuckle ride.  Every time we went around a turn, the momentum from the pull put us in a power slide behind him.  We were scared for our life.  All we could think about was if we flipped over, and he started dragging us, he probably wouldn’t even realize it.   He was kicking up dust and rocks into our cockpit, and we could see our life flash before our eyes.  We made it out to the freeway, and he continued to tow us!  What the heck was he doing, we thought?  Barreling down the freeway, scared half to death, he finally made it back to our pits! We didn’t know whether to thank him, or curse him!  We thanked him, and kissed the ground because we made it back to the pits alive.

 

Once again, our pit crew welcomed us with cheers of excitement. All said and done, Lil Hussy did great for 120 miles.  We knew we had to work the kinks out.  We learned a lot from our first race, and now we know what we need to work on for the next one.  Some serious carburetor modifications and some new suspension is a must!  It was a great maiden voyage, and we learned a lot about the program.  With the new modifications, we will be ready to rumble for our next one.  Watch out, we’ll be coming in hot!