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Salt Flat Commando - unedited A rookie crewmember's inside look at Speed Week. By Daniel Peirce, September 25, 2013 Guy: "This '72 Norton has a speed record of 126 miles per hour?! In '74 my Norton did 130 with my girlfriend on the back." Racer: "That's cool... but did you do it at Bonneville?" It's hot and the air is thin. And salt isn't the best surface to go fast on. The salt flats can range from slushy wet to powder dry. After it's smoothed out and packed down it becomes the world's largest piece of sand paper. But it's flat for miles and miles, and it doesn't have an obstacle in sight. And if you want to have a land speed record in the books, you have to do it on the salt flats at Bonneville. The Back Story This story begins when I received an email from the North Texas Norton Owners Association. NTNOA member Randy Johnson was looking for a volunteer to help with his 1972 Norton Commando land speed record effort in Bonneville during the August 2013 Speed Week. After thinking about it for two minutes, I was that volunteer. Randy's regular crew chief, Steve Adkins of Big D Cycle, couldn't make this year's run. The previous year Randy and Steve set the record in the 750cc Production Pushrod class at 126.434mph. The Yellow Norton also ran an unofficial speed of 129 mph. Randy was out to break his own record with a goal of 130 mph. I had volunteered for the job: "Someone to drive the truck to pick up the bike after each run." I could do that... probably. The funny thing was that Randy kept thanking me for volunteering and I kept thanking him for the opportunity. My first time at the world-famous Bonneville Salt Flats and I would be there as part of a race team. This was going to be special, and I was prepared to learn a lot in a short amount of time. I met Randy for the first time when he picked me up at my home on Saturday to begin the 24 hour drive straight-through from Dallas to Bonneville. Speed Week actually begins on Saturday but Randy prefers to get there on Sunday to avoid the opening day crowds. Sunday The 24-hour drive was a blur of fast food, short naps and motorcycle talk. We pulled into the Tech Inspection area around 3:30 PM Sunday. The primary goal was to get the bike through Tech Inspection and set up our pit area. If there was enough time left, we'd try to bring the bike out to make a run or two. I always had the impression that the racecourse was right off of the highway. It's not. There was a five-mile long ribbon of asphalt from the highway through a sandy desert area. Approaching the end of the asphalt it was easy to see where the sand ended and the snow-white salt began. There was nothing but salt in front of us but I could see a dim line of dark shapes on the horizon. That was the race area and it was still another five miles away across open salt. My first thought when we got on the salt was how incredibly bright it was. A brilliant sun overhead and a perfectly white reflector underneath. I could feel my eyes starting to cramp. I had been warned of this and pulled out my heavy-duty sunglasses. I've been to a lot of race venues and I expected the sweet smell of alcohol and race fuel mixed with salt air. But the salt doesn't really have an odor and everything is so spread out that all I could really smell was my SPF 50 sun block. Still bleary from the long drive Randy gathered his paperwork and we headed over to Tech Inspection. They began by inspecting his leather race suit, helmet, gloves and boots. Then they inspected the chase vehicle for safety items such as the required CB radio and fire extinguisher. The rules of the Southern California Timing Association are strict, but the officials were consistently casual and friendly. After the safety inspection, the bike was unloaded from the trailer and rolled into a shaded inspection bay. Going by a checklist, the inspector went over the bike from front to back. Although the inspector was chatting affably during his assessment, I was somewhat anxious waiting for him to find some overlooked item that would disqualify the bike. But this was Randy's seventh trip to Bonneville and he had the Norton fully prepared and it was certified in less than ten minutes. Which, Randy told me later, was relatively quick for an inspection. With inspection sticker in hand we loaded up the bike and drove into the pit area. Everything about the salt flat is vast and spread out. The pit area was easily a mile long with several rows. We started to prepare our pit by setting up the required ground tarps. No liquids can be dumped on the salt. We also set up the frames for the canopies, but the fatigue from the long drive was starting to set in. We established our spot headed to our hotel in nearby Wendover for dinner and some rest. Monday We returned to the pit area Monday morning at 7:30 AM. There was a slight chill in the air as the sun was rising in a cloudless sky. We could hear roaring engines in the distance as vehicles began their record runs. After we finished setting up our pit area it was time to unload the Yellow Norton. From now on it would be all about the bike. As with any racing, the driver has a lot to do with being successful, but in land speed racing if the bike doesn't perform there is nothing more the rider can do. Randy spent the morning carefully going over the bike. He emptied the old fuel and replaced the oil. He measured, gauged and tightened all major components. Randy's concentration during all this was apparent and I tried to leave him alone so I wouldn't distract him. It was becoming clear that this was serious business with a lot at stake. Whatever my job was going to be today I better not screw it up. After the bike was prepared we drove out to the starting line for course 2 so Randy could show me what to expect. I got to see how the lines for the staging area were organized and watched a couple of starts. This was important because I got to see that after the race vehicle launches down the course, the return vehicle heads for the return road for the pickup. That would be me. Randy drove the route I would be taking on the return road. But 'road' isn't a good term for it. It's actually a packed salt area that parallels the other packed salt area that is the racecourse. Only foot tall orange cones separated the two. After Randy drove the return road route he had me drive it. Yes, it is possible to get lost on a large open flat plain. But once I learned which cones to aim for I was feeling confident that I could do the job. Driving on the open salt was strange. The stark white salt was almost featureless and everything seemed further away than it looked. All I could do was to follow the miles of orange cones. Added to that were all the other return vehicles following their own cones at different speeds and directions. Vehicles seemed to come at me from all sides. It was a lot like driving a boat on a crowded lake. We returned to the pits and after rookie crew orientation we were ready to take the bike to race. But first we had to stop for fuel. All race vehicles running gas must run only certified race fuel supplied by E.R.C. Racing Fuels. An official first confirmed the Norton’s tank to be completely empty before being filled with 110-octane race gas (only $13.00 a gallon). Another official came along and sealed the gas cap with tape and dobs of nail polish on the edges. His initials on the tape meant we were ready to take our place in line to race. We drove to the staging area for course 2. There were four courses running at the same time, but Randy favors course 2. Vehicles were lined up on two sides waiting to get to the starting line. We chose the line on the right side. At the starting line they alternated starts from each side to help things go quicker. About two dozen teams were ahead of us so we just sat tight. There are no specific vehicle lines. Our line had cars and bikes, streamliners, roadsters, stock cars and dragsters. Randy went to visit with friends in line while I stayed with the truck so I could pull it forward as the line moved. When we first got in line I had a calm and patient attitude while we waited our turn. But every time I pulled the truck one space closer to the starting line, my excitement built. At about eight spots back Randy entered the trailer to put on his leather race suit. We pulled the bike out at about four spaces from the starting line. Randy had his game face on and I was going over my duties in my head. Then it was our turn to approach the starting line. Randy pushed the Norton up to the line. There isn't an actual painted starting line; it's just an area between cones. The starting point isn't too important when you're just trying to go as fast as you can. Randy started the bike and I removed the bike stand. While Randy chatted with the starting official I took photos. The official stepped away from Randy and gave an indication that the bike was cleared to go. The starter gave Randy a wave and he was off. I watched him for a few seconds to make sure his start went well and then I ran to the truck. In the truck I made sure the CB radio was on the correct monitoring channel. The CB radio was needed in case I had to call them for help, or if they needed to tell me I was doing something stupid. Luckily I never had to use it. At a signal from the start official I began my job as the return truck driver. I drove out onto the course and soon veered right to get on the return road. Randy was only using three miles of the five mile course so I'd find him somewhere around the four mile mark. It surprised me how long it seemed to take to travel the four miles to pick him up. I soon learned that it didn't really matter where I expected to pick him up. I just kept driving beside the cones until I saw a dot in the distance. When the dot got large enough to turn into Randy sitting on a Norton, I turned the truck around and positioned the trailer for loading. Registered race vehicles are not allowed to travel under their own power except on the racecourse. So bikes went onto trailers and cars were usually towed or pushed back. On our way back we stopped at the timing trailer to pick up our slip. Randy was only running a three-mile length so the slip gave speeds at 2, 2-1/4 and 3 miles. The slip also listed atmospheric conditions during the run. I had already heard Randy's speeds announced over the radio as I was driving. First run was only 117 mph at its fastest. Disappointing to me as a rookie but Randy took it in stride and directed me to get back in the staging line. He would make adjustments in the trailer. Back in line Randy pulled the spark plugs for examination. After reading the plugs he called Steve at Big D Cycle in Dallas. I may have been the crew, but Steve was still the Crew Chief -- even if it was by phone. They decided to just make a carburetor jet change and the Norton's Amal carbs made it a fairly easy change. On the next run the bike did better with 123 mph. Encouraging, but it still seemed far from the desired 130 mph. We went back in line and another jet change. The next run produced a 114 mph. Randy needed some time to think about his next adjustment because he didn't feel like it was just a jetting issue. He directed me to drive back to the pits. Except, on the way he wanted to stop and talk to the Oracle. Okay, I was the only one that called him the Oracle. He's actually Rick Gold, owner of E.R.C. Racing Fuels. Rick has the skill to read spark plugs with uncanny accuracy. He's highly regarded for his tuning advice with the dynamics of fuel and ignition. He told Randy that the engine's fuel and timing looked okay, but something else was wrong. The Oracle suggested setting everything back to the way it was for the 129 mph run the year before. If any of Randy's runs had broken the record it would have been called a qualifying run. For SCTA rules, a vehicle has to run twice to set a new record. After the qualifying run, the bike would have been put into an impound area where officials would test the fuel and go over the bike again to check for compliance to the production class. The next morning at 7:00 AM all the vehicles in the impound area would be paraded to the courses so they could try for their record run. The highest speeds from the two runs are averaged together for the official speed. If the averaged speed breaks the class record, great. If not, get in line and start over. Our goal was to get the Norton impounded. Back at the pit Randy and Steve discussed the results from the Oracle and planned their course of action. Randy and I checked and reset the timing and then Randy disassembled the carbs to make sure they were working properly. By the time it was all back together it was too late for another run. We left the salt flats at 8:00 PM for dinner. We wanted to be back at 7:30 AM on Tuesday to get in line after the record runs were over. Tuesday Tuesday morning found us with renewed confidence that the tuning of the afternoon before would pay off. The Norton was starting with one kick and idling solidly. But the morning run was a disappointing 117 mph again. Back in line, Randy consulted Steve and made another jet change. Still no joy as the bike's next run only made 113 mph. We went back to the pits to go over everything again. Electrical problems were suspected and we spent the day going through the system from battery to plugs. The afternoon saw much wrench turning, inspection, disassembly and reassembly. By late afternoon it was determined that one of the screw holes in the crankcase that held the Tri-Spark ignition in place was stripped. The screw was responsible for holding the ignition module in place as well as providing an electrical ground, so it had to be tight. The sense of optimism from the morning had evaporated with the heat of the day. The gloom settling over us was more than just the sun setting behind the mountains. I was learning about the salt demons. There is something about Bonneville that tests men, women and their machines. Of course every vehicle there to race has been repeatedly tuned and dyno tested for the better part of a year. The vehicles come to the salt as ready to race as their owners can make them. But still... still, something will go wrong. I learned to believe in the salt demons. "Do you have an extra nitrous valve?" "I'm looking for spare parachute cord." Those are actual requests made to us while in the pits. And if we had any of those things we would have shared them. The attitude of the meet, and in the pits especially, is extremely friendly with a shared kinship in the quest for speed. We got help from strangers and we gave help to strangers. Wednesday Wednesday morning we were back at the pits and the outlook was beginning to change. It had been decided to insert a Helicoil into the stripped screw hole. Wendover has an auto parts store that has saved many racers, but they didn't have a 10-32 Helicoil set. The nearest place to find one was in Salt Lake City, an hour and a half away. There were still 2-1/2 days left in the meet and if we wanted a record we'd have to get that Helicoil. Four hours later we returned and Randy dove into reanimating the Commando. With the trip to the city, Wednesday was shaping up to be a bust, but Randy got it all back together by 6:45 PM. Last run was at 7:00. If we could get one more run before the end of the day we'd have feedback to make adjustments for the morning. A new sense of urgency gripped our pit area. We could just make the last run of the day. I even ran... a little. Randy slapped on his race suit, we loaded the bike and traveled the miles to the staging area with as much patience as we could muster. We pulled up to the starting line with five minutes remaining before they shut down the course. With three minutes left we yanked out the bike and put it on the line. There was another bike set to go before us. The starting official told Randy that we might not get to race before time ran out. Fortunately the other bike was having starting issues and we were already on the line ready to go. Pragmatically, the official told Randy if the other guy wasn't ready then he could go. Randy fired it up and took off down the course for what was literally the last run of the day. The Norton did well, but not well enough. It still wasn't getting the top gear acceleration that would set a new record. With all the work performed on the bike in the past 48 hours it was difficult to know where to start with adjustments. Electrical problems were fixed so now it was back to fuel. It was decided that a jet change would be made for a morning run. Thursday Thursday was our last full day for the meet because Friday would only be a half-day session. If we could qualify today we still had Friday morning for the record run. We got to the staging area as early as we could, but a lot of other folks had the same idea. The lines were the longest I had seen all week. As we waited, I asked Randy what he thought about as they released him from the line to head down the course. He didn't even have to think about it. He said, "One up, three down, turn to the right." It was a simple focus on the job at hand. On course two, which way the rider turns off is important. Turning off to the left signals the officials that there is an emergency and a need for help. Turning to the right takes the rider to the return road for pick up. Wrong turns happen every meet-- to the chagrin of the errant drivers. Randy took off on his first run of the day. My trip to the return road had become comfortable routine. This trip would be different. Less than a mile down the course I saw the dot that was the Norton turn right. As I got closer I spotted the glint of chrome dragging beneath the bike. The Norton's rear brake pedal had come off and was being dragging along by the cable. That's when I learned that anything that can vibrate off of a Norton, will. The salt demons had backed the nuts off of the rear brake adjustment rod at the rear wheel. Randy told me the Norton had shed a header pipe and float bowls at other meets. Certainly the loss of the brake pedal was a bit of bad luck. Considering that Randy survived and the brake parts stayed together, it wasn't too bad. Nothing was actually broken with the brake system. We found two new nuts at the auto parts store in Wendover. After a little hammer work to straighten out the pedal, the Yellow Norton was back in action. On Randy's next run I found him waiting for me at the two-mile mark. Randy can feel how well the bike is performing, and on that run he felt it wasn't even close. We went back to the pits without bothering to get the timing slip. But he had one last chance. If he could qualify Friday morning there would be a special record run held at noon. Randy and Steve had one more night to come up with a solution. Friday Friday morning had the first cloud cover over the flats I had seen. The weather for the entire meet had been ideal. The Oracle had been consulted again with the confirmation that the engine just wasn't getting enough fuel. Randy measured flow rates, checked the tank vents and re-inspected the carbs. Finally Randy and Steve decided to raise the carb needles. The staging lines were long and moving slowly on the final morning. When Randy got to the starting line the Norton started on the first kick and sounded strong. Would this be the run we were waiting for? Randy started down the course and the 750cc engine began sputtering for the first time all week. Randy kept the bike going for the entire three miles hoping the engine would smooth out. When I picked him up he had a look on his face that told me it hadn't. Back in the pit there was only a half hour left before the end of qualifying runs. Still, if Randy could have thought of a cure for the Norton's ills, we would have gone back for another run. Instead, we packed up our pit area and started on our 24-hour drive back to Dallas. Randy was disappointed. He still owned the record but he knows that the Yellow Norton has 130 mph in it. He and Steve would have six weeks to tune the bike before it was back out to the flats for the World Finals. After reading this, you may be thinking that you have a fast bike that might be a contender for a land speed record. After all, going fast in a straight line can't be too hard. But the records are made on the Bonneville Salt Flats and that's where the salt demons live. All are welcome to race, but if you get the notion to try, just keep in mind something else I learned during Speed Week: If it was easy, anyone could do it. END Daniel Peirce, 911 Yellowstone Dr, Grapevine, TX 76051
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