The regulars have got it already but here's a quick summary of three brothers racing go-karts: Lotho, Doc, and me. The capability of the kart at that time was to make a top speed of about 120 mph but what set these apart from anything else was phenomenal acceleration.
My interest was always in speed on an empty track but my brothers really got off on competition. That was my ol' Dad's big mission too as you have to win stuff. Without some crash bang and some killer instinct, what good is even starting the motor.
So, sure, let's take a shot at that.
But first ...
Musicos, imagine, if you will, three or four motors, each with different power spectra, running at high RPMs and sending exhaust through a tuned pipe for maximum performance. What you get will be chords as you satisfy the triad and the exhaust notes are pure since they really are tuned. There's more music in racing than you might realize. It gives some calculus of music as the exhaust notes are changing relative to each other and consequently the chord changes. When you hear these three or four karts, racing down the straight in close proximity to each other, and building RPMs in a kind of sync with each other, that's some of the most beautiful music you may ever hear.
So, let's go racing.
My ol' Dad said at one point during the glorious days of racing that I do not have a 'killer instinct' and that brought some silence.
Unspoken was the thought, 'Um, ol' Dad, why the fuck would I want one?'
We see some killer instinct in the pic and we can also see it isn't going all that well at this particular moment inasmuch as the vehicle is at just about ninety degrees relative to any attitude which does not result in bumps, bruises, and who knows what else. Notice the clever placement of the right hand which I apparently think will prevent me from hitting the ground. How my hands ever lasted long enough to play a guitar with them is not clear.
The problem, in this little vignette, is the white helmet guy to the right of my currently-crashing form. He's a competent driver but he is running with a Yamaha motor, something almost universally-hated by those driving karts with more commonly-used motors such as Komet, etc.
In fact, I don't even know what kind of motor is on my kart. Like said, I just liked going fast and I didn't really care what made them do that. I still don't but my need for fast driving may not be what it once was.
The problem was the Yamaha could make power from much lower RPMs than my motor. It couldn't build as much speed but that doesn't matter if he can slow me down enough in a corner to lose RPM. He can come out of the corner stronger because his motor is making power faster and I wasn't even getting the clutch to grab in mine since that took maybe 4000 or 5000 RPMs. I will be roaring down at the fast end of the straight and it's faster than the Yamaha ... but it's not enough to catch and pass him.
Yamaha Guy is a good driver and he's quite capable of making his kart much larger than it appears so taking him in a corner wasn't likely ... unless we move to More Advanced Means.
A time-honored mechanism for displacing a driver in front of you is, well, to whack his ass. They say this is 'dirty driving' and such a terrible thing to do ... but they love this crash bang stuff. It's more common than chewing tobacco in NASCAR.
The trick is to get inside the Yamaha Guy on a corner. Since you can't pass him then whack his kart with yours. His kart absorbs the impact from yours so you hold your line just fine. Yamaha Guy spins off into east Jesus where his only hope will come from Mike Huckabee or the Wicked Witch of the Kentucky.
The above is how it is supposed to work.
The picture shows what happened.
This had got me so pissed. I was flipping the bird at this guy and had absolutely lost my temper, all the things which should never happen in racing.
So (cough) bad things happen (larfs).
Rather than hitting his kart square on the side, I whacked his left rear wheel. That might have been effective except the wheel on my kart went over his and, you can see from the picture, his kart is unaffected from it whereas mine is not having a very good day.
This picture is one of the few from that time and it came from Dumb Luck. It just happened there was a hotshot photographer at the track that day ... he just happened to be on that corner ... I conveniently crashed right in front of him.
You can't see in the pic what came after.
My ol' Dad always told me, 'if you crash then stay down. They will have to restart the race.'
That instruction was followed and it wasn't until later it penetrated, 'Hey Joe, your ol' Mother is watching this. Maybe she thinks your worthless ass is dead.'
I'm sorry, ol' Mom. That wasn't right. It's not that ol' Dad was wrong as he didn't do it, I did. I won't slash my wrists as then you worry even more but I do recognize it.
Um, yah, they did restart the race. I wasn't hurt badly in the crash, remarkably enough ... but I probably still did not get around the Yamaha guy.
Lotho was a bit miffed the other day as I've only written of racing disasters and it gives the impression we were a rolling demolition derby. It wasn't at all like that but those don't make good stories.
These may seem like sops but they're not as I'm proud they can do such things even when they do them better than I.
Lotho may well be the best natural driver I have ever seen. He watched the styles of Doc and I, absorbing smooth from me and aggressive from Doc, and he rolled them together. Doc was a great driver but he wasn't a pretty one whereas Lotho was as beautiful as motion gets.
As to who was the fastest, we can let them sort it.
Queen Bee and Barbie qualified and raced in the IKF Nationals. They did not win but they made one hell of show. Those two could not possibly do it any other way. We came for the speed and we also came for the spectacle.
The Nationals sagas were while I was off not pretending to be a soldier so I missed them. I'm not sure who participated in them but my telling would be so spotty it wouldn't make a good story. There is no doubt in my mind there are good stories in those sagas but someone else will have to write up those ones.
My interest was always in speed on an empty track but my brothers really got off on competition. That was my ol' Dad's big mission too as you have to win stuff. Without some crash bang and some killer instinct, what good is even starting the motor.
So, sure, let's take a shot at that.
But first ...
Musicos, imagine, if you will, three or four motors, each with different power spectra, running at high RPMs and sending exhaust through a tuned pipe for maximum performance. What you get will be chords as you satisfy the triad and the exhaust notes are pure since they really are tuned. There's more music in racing than you might realize. It gives some calculus of music as the exhaust notes are changing relative to each other and consequently the chord changes. When you hear these three or four karts, racing down the straight in close proximity to each other, and building RPMs in a kind of sync with each other, that's some of the most beautiful music you may ever hear.
So, let's go racing.
My ol' Dad said at one point during the glorious days of racing that I do not have a 'killer instinct' and that brought some silence.
Unspoken was the thought, 'Um, ol' Dad, why the fuck would I want one?'
We see some killer instinct in the pic and we can also see it isn't going all that well at this particular moment inasmuch as the vehicle is at just about ninety degrees relative to any attitude which does not result in bumps, bruises, and who knows what else. Notice the clever placement of the right hand which I apparently think will prevent me from hitting the ground. How my hands ever lasted long enough to play a guitar with them is not clear.
The problem, in this little vignette, is the white helmet guy to the right of my currently-crashing form. He's a competent driver but he is running with a Yamaha motor, something almost universally-hated by those driving karts with more commonly-used motors such as Komet, etc.
In fact, I don't even know what kind of motor is on my kart. Like said, I just liked going fast and I didn't really care what made them do that. I still don't but my need for fast driving may not be what it once was.
The problem was the Yamaha could make power from much lower RPMs than my motor. It couldn't build as much speed but that doesn't matter if he can slow me down enough in a corner to lose RPM. He can come out of the corner stronger because his motor is making power faster and I wasn't even getting the clutch to grab in mine since that took maybe 4000 or 5000 RPMs. I will be roaring down at the fast end of the straight and it's faster than the Yamaha ... but it's not enough to catch and pass him.
Yamaha Guy is a good driver and he's quite capable of making his kart much larger than it appears so taking him in a corner wasn't likely ... unless we move to More Advanced Means.
A time-honored mechanism for displacing a driver in front of you is, well, to whack his ass. They say this is 'dirty driving' and such a terrible thing to do ... but they love this crash bang stuff. It's more common than chewing tobacco in NASCAR.
The trick is to get inside the Yamaha Guy on a corner. Since you can't pass him then whack his kart with yours. His kart absorbs the impact from yours so you hold your line just fine. Yamaha Guy spins off into east Jesus where his only hope will come from Mike Huckabee or the Wicked Witch of the Kentucky.
The above is how it is supposed to work.
The picture shows what happened.
This had got me so pissed. I was flipping the bird at this guy and had absolutely lost my temper, all the things which should never happen in racing.
So (cough) bad things happen (larfs).
Rather than hitting his kart square on the side, I whacked his left rear wheel. That might have been effective except the wheel on my kart went over his and, you can see from the picture, his kart is unaffected from it whereas mine is not having a very good day.
This picture is one of the few from that time and it came from Dumb Luck. It just happened there was a hotshot photographer at the track that day ... he just happened to be on that corner ... I conveniently crashed right in front of him.
You can't see in the pic what came after.
My ol' Dad always told me, 'if you crash then stay down. They will have to restart the race.'
That instruction was followed and it wasn't until later it penetrated, 'Hey Joe, your ol' Mother is watching this. Maybe she thinks your worthless ass is dead.'
I'm sorry, ol' Mom. That wasn't right. It's not that ol' Dad was wrong as he didn't do it, I did. I won't slash my wrists as then you worry even more but I do recognize it.
Um, yah, they did restart the race. I wasn't hurt badly in the crash, remarkably enough ... but I probably still did not get around the Yamaha guy.
Lotho was a bit miffed the other day as I've only written of racing disasters and it gives the impression we were a rolling demolition derby. It wasn't at all like that but those don't make good stories.
These may seem like sops but they're not as I'm proud they can do such things even when they do them better than I.
Lotho may well be the best natural driver I have ever seen. He watched the styles of Doc and I, absorbing smooth from me and aggressive from Doc, and he rolled them together. Doc was a great driver but he wasn't a pretty one whereas Lotho was as beautiful as motion gets.
As to who was the fastest, we can let them sort it.
Queen Bee and Barbie qualified and raced in the IKF Nationals. They did not win but they made one hell of show. Those two could not possibly do it any other way. We came for the speed and we also came for the spectacle.
The Nationals sagas were while I was off not pretending to be a soldier so I missed them. I'm not sure who participated in them but my telling would be so spotty it wouldn't make a good story. There is no doubt in my mind there are good stories in those sagas but someone else will have to write up those ones.
4 comments:
That pic looks like it was from the era of Queen Bee racing. I dont remember Barbie ever really racing but this era was my brief military experience
PS I wasnt miffed And winning is boring ask Lewis Hamilton I hope the changes for next year bring back competition to F1
Sorry, a bit of dramatic license. For me, miffed isn't breaking plates or some such.
It couldn't have been such a great thing for Vettel either as he won time after time. I probably would dig it as now the track is mine and no-one is in the way. So many rules on the drivers to conserve the car and that might have chafed some.
I think that just might be Queen Bee in the distant right. With the dark hair in that style, the sunglasses, and the other, um, accoutrements, looks like a possibility.
I'm not positive about Barbie either as I was AWOL from the real world too. I've no doubt there were sagas in those expeditions.
No idea who snapped the pic and it went down to history as Some Guy.
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