Hundreds of race car drivers have gathered in this white desert landscape to attempt to break into the 200 mph (322 kph) club – or, if that’s not fast enough, the 300 mph (483 kph) club.
Amid the deafening roar of engines, race officials wearing white from their caps to their shoes motion a car forward to the starting line. One points to the driver and sweeps his hands toward the 11-kilometre course: Your turn.
Every August, the world-famous track at the Bonneville Salt Flats draws amateur racers to Speed Week. The flat expanse of packed salt about 110 miles (177 kilometres) west of Salt Lake City is all that remains of the ancient Lake Bonneville.
Racing aficionados hoping to break land speed records arrive with hundreds of vehicles, ranging from a dusty green 1953 Chevrolet truck to a 70-year-old roadster to a 25-foot long, 4-foot-wide contraption.
The outright land speed record is held by Andy Green, who set the mark at a course in Blackrock Desert, Nevada, in 1997 when he broke the sound barrier travelling 1 228 kph. Green drove a thrust car, which some Bonneville racers snidely refer to as an airplane that can’t fly.
The Speed Week record was set this year by Nolan White, who averaged 661 kph over two runs, a requirement to officially set a record.
After making a record-setting run on the 27-metre track, inspectors make sure the vehicle’s builders didn’t cheat.
The drivers race a second run the next morning, when the air hasn’t yet hit 32 Celsius and the atmosphere holds the least water. That’s when it’s easiest to earn membership in the 200 mph club.
Tanis Hammond earned her membership and more Tuesday, hitting 307 mph.
”Each time you go faster. Your fastest run is always the most fun,” said the mother of three, who started racing in 1987. ”You want the next fastest speed.”
Speed isn’t the only draw for racers. They love the culture, which is as colourful as some of the race cars.
”You could let your kid walk around in the pits here and not worry,” said racer Willie Glass, known in racing circles as Wasted Willie. ”It’s a different kind of people, good people.”
In the pits – row after row of trailers, racing cars, canopies and coolers – racers swap tips and tools and trade jokes about their records.
”This year we hope they get our records so next year we can come back and take them back,” Hammond said, smiling.
Racers spend years and tens of thousands of dollars tweaking engines, striving for those few extra miles per hour that will put their names in the record books.
”It’s a sickness,” said Tom Evans, a vehicle inspector. ”It
breaks up marriages.”
The Southern California Timing Association/Bonneville Nationals Inc. sponsors the event, and racers pay entry fees – $300 in advance or $400 at the course for this year’s 347 participants.
All the racing takes its toll on the flats. The Bureau of Land Management is overseeing a project to put salt back on the raceway.
Brine has been pumped onto the flats during the last several winters, leaving a new crust of salt when the water evaporates in the spring.
Racers contribute thousands of dollars to the cause, said Mary West, who sits on the board of the salt restoration program.
The harder and thicker the salt layer, the faster the racers will go, Hammond said.
”We try to do everything we can to keep the salt on the course,” she said. ”It’s such an amazing resource.” – Sapa-AP