Mounting a Coyote tranny with Colorado Kool-aid machine.

 The Aluminum molten puddle is a lot like the secret to joyful enlightenment. True happiness and inner peace. A state of perfection if you will. There are many things that can make an old refrigerator sized Miller 330 AB/P welder not create that shiny molten puddle of perfection. After trying to tig weld aluminum with this old boat anchor for 10 years I finally found it possible to make a bead with the correct amount of preparation, practice, and focus. I have been told many times I should give up and buy a new digital welder that would make life much more easy. However this old Welder has a story: When my shop was in Denver I had a sketchy automotive shop one block down 38th Ave. One day the sketchy mechanic said he was out and if I wanted his tig welder it was mine but his sketchy land lord/fellow tenants were on their way to seize anything left behind. So I high tailed it over to his shop on foot as that was all I had and started rolling the giant welder down the sidewalk. I could not get it across the intersection so I left it in traffic and went back to my shop for some tie down straps that I could use to better pull, tug, and haul with. I got it to my shop and found it would not fit through my shop door! The tenant behind me let me take out some drywall and 2x4s to get it into my shop. And then I began the struggle to learn how to weld aluminum. I think I nicked a hole in the torch's gas line during the moving process causing intermittent issues and many foul words for many years.  A customer identified my welder, with it's unique decal logo numbers as one of the welders he worked with at the Coors brewery in Golden just up the road. Who knows how many beer kegs the machine once put together.

I built a jack as practice before tackling the engine and trans mounts. 

Luckily someone else has previously cut the car up so I don't feel as bad attempting my fabrications on it. The car has previously had a Subaru, Ford SHO, and other engines. It is recorded as being totaled at least twice.

I am going a different way than all the other CHCA cars and doing soft mounts with the thinking of less cracking....

Some of the previous repairs and alterations make me feel not so bad about my welds...

But I have a long way to go before I reach true enlightenment. Hoping my future is not full of cracks....

Greely to Telluride

Good ol Mick wanted to go flattracking. How could I say no to my oldest and fondest dirt bike buddy. I also needed an excuse to get John's Champion XS framer out that he so kindly is leaving in my care for the time be. I even took Mick out to some patch of flat desert and gave him one of my old steel shoes to see if he had more than just blind ambition to go fast and turn left. He did. So I buttoned up the Champion, dusted off the old Pikes Peak bike with some fitted 19"s, and loaded up my future; Nova Rose and her Lightning bug bike. The drive to the Mile High Showdown was on the other side of the state and it took us all day. The chatter in the van was mostly centered around racing, flower print dresses, and "what's that sign say". After unloading the bikes my daughter was stone quite as we walked the track inside the stadium. Her eyes were wide and my stomach had that old familiar tinge of excitement. It has been about 7 years since I was racing flattrack regularly.  The only other time being the Am Nationals in Illinois. Nova and I practiced late into the night friday before retiring into the ol trusty van. We woke to camp stove burritos and coffee. My little chip off the block was her usual timid and smart rider rather than racer in her heat races. I told her if she wanted to race rather than ride she had my blessings. I am proud of how brave she is but even more proud of how smart she is. In her main event race she pulled the cork out and passed tow bigger older kids to finish 2nd, earning her first trophy. Proud dad moment. My races were good but nothing spectacular. With big purses the competition was stiff. The Champion desperately needed a gear change but I forgot my quick change sprockets and did not have time to do much anyhow. I did remember the CRF gears and got it dialed in good enough for 2nd in the TT 40+. In the 40+ short track I got the holeshot in the main and was feeling good when I got run into by a rider trying to pass me on the outside. I had to restart from the back and worked all the way back up to 4th. Mick bagged a win the Amateur TT, he must have a decent coach!  Max Whale from Australia was in attendance and cleaned up the pro class. It was fun to strap my steel shoe back on and for a few days I was buzzing on doing some more flattrack. It would be great learning for Nova at least until she gets to the 85cc when shit gets serious. I don't know though, the little impact I had, not even going down, was still enough to remind me of the dangers of banging bars so close going around in circles. I always thought when I got older that I would be more of a flattrack racer than anything else but honestly it is the first form of competition I that I have grown to fear the dangers of. Fuck old age is replacing young desire... We shall see....

I may be older but I am still a ham

Getting to share the podium with my good old buddy Matt was a real pleasure. We grew up riding dirt bikes and playing in a punk rock band together. I introduced him to flattrack a few years back and he has taken to it mighty fine. Last podium we shared was probably at our local moto cross in 1998 when we were 16 year olds.

I started racing with Mick in 2006 when his parents gave me consent to drive him to Lake Havasue and sign his minor waiver.

Nothing more flattrack essence than skidding around a couple of old tires played out on the ol desert floor. I remember how cool it felt to get into flattrack back in 2009. You could only get tires from one A and A racing. It was like joining a secert club. I think Mick and the bug. I told him to build a vintage tracker...

Van life is the good life

A week later we were invited to a right proper concourse on the Telluride golf course by our good friend Dylon who we race the Colorado hill climbs with. He has connections... and they wanted bikes to spice up the ordinary show of Jags,  high end Porsches, GT40, open wheel Indy cars....

So I brought Beasty the old desert sled. Did not even wipe off the years of dust.

Of course Nova stole the show the Lighting bug. It was also a good excuse to dust off Lipstick, The late great Tommy's Triumph Shop show bike/real hooligan flattrack race bike/ Dirt Quake USA race winner. It was a fun different way to spend a day. And I will probably never again be invited to any golf course let alone the one Tom Cruise uses. Always fun to be the turd in the punch bowl :)

"DRIVEN TO EXCELLENCE" 1983 AUTO RACING DOCUMENTARY w/ MARIO ANDRETTI &...

Some interesting narration by Sam Posey.

wrap it up, put a bow on it and make it pretty

2025 Colorado Hill Climb racing season is a wrap. The 5th and final race of the year was Temple Canyon right out side of Canon City. I managed to break my old Motorcycle class record 3 times throughout the weekend and went even a couple seconds faster in the car. The road is one of the most fun bits of road I have ever driven. The 2025 season will be one I remember; Qualified P1 and won all the rounds in the Motorcycle class and took the Super Sprint championship with three wins and two 2nd places. Only the one mechanical issue with the rear end at the first round so I couldn't be more happy. I am really truly over the moon that I was able to do this with the Hayabusa Homebrew car. Built it from scratch with a fish bone budget. My abilities to scrounge things out of trash cans and re-use old worn out bits continues to take me places. I could not have done it without help from lots of good friends. Thanks to all of you. Looking forward to next season!

Operation Coyote commence

 

When this John Wells built Coyote chassis #13 dream car more or less fell into my lap almost two years ago I was just completing my Homebrew Hayabusa car so I made my self promise to not touch it until my Homebrew was ironed out. A smarter man than me would perfect the homebrew but a ball chasing border collie is a ball chasing border collie. After Land's End, with one race left in the season, and the points lead, I repaired an axle and loaded up Homebrew into the trailer. I un-tarped the Coyote and pushed it into the shop. I was so eager to un-box the adaptor kit I ordered almost two months ago and fit the ebay Porsche transaxle to the SBC power plant I built and ran in my Pontiac Grand Prix that I couldn't believe I was not 7 years old but this is the dream car I envisioned when I was 7 so I got right to it.

It did not just pop right together but after some grinding, some cutoff wheel, wome very colorful bits of vocabulary, and my big red fucking hammer; it went together. More impressive was how it fit into the chassis.

Again, it didn't just fit right into the old chassis... I am used to working with motorcycle engines and I am at the age where physical limitations are starting to be yielded to. The pain is real. But after some creative use of jacks, hoists, and my beloved two post lift I got it. I was sure I was going to need to cut something but to my amazement it fit perfect. Well better than OJ's glove anyways!

I feel like a proper penniless white trash version of Colin Chapman! I think this thing is going to be the complete fucking savage race vehicle of my dreams!!! 

Pikes Peak Hillclimb 1975 "Tame The Tall Mountain"

Lands End Hill Climb 2025 - Livin in America

 Welp, the biggest race of my year has come and gone. It was everything I have been dreaming about for a whole year and more. What do I have left in my teeth to chew on but the savory meat of enjoyment. While children starve to death, power mad dictators of the world spew bullshit, and the poor brain washed masses consume the bullshit being shoveled down their gullet every screen filled spoonful by soothing dopamine pixelated spoonful.

It rained friday night for the first time in the Grand Valley in a long hot dry windy blue moon of a burning summer. The track was wet and fast for saturday's practice/qualifying. The new motocross tread atv tires were hooking up like velcro. For the first time ever I felt I could get the car to turn when and where wanted with out the under steer that I have been trying to rid the homebrew hayabusa. On only my second run I ran a 4:22 on the 5.5 mile course. I was even yellow flagged on the run and slowed after catching the car in front of me, following for a couple corners, and then passing them. Getting me the 3rd fastest run of the day overall. 4WD rally turbos lancers, 800 hp open wheel cars and all. Not bad for a rage cage built here at home in the metropolis of Mack CO. amoungst a pile of ol dirtbikes and toddler trikes. The track dried out and the hero dirt turned to a slower but magically fun dry slick. The Peat brothers came from California with their proper European Semog cross karts. They are from the UK and have national rally championship experience and cars waiting for them over the pond. They raced Lands End last year and were smoking me. This year they had some problems including one of them having a massive scary crash off the edge into some trees. I managed to beat the other brother by 2 seconds with a smoking 4:20 -Duuude! In the Motorcycle class I struggled with times almost 20 seconds off my best. Lord Mick was pushing me like a pacific north west hobo with a shopping cart full of Colt 45 on roller skates. I managed to drop down to a 4:28 for a race run giving Mick 4 seconds and another year to think about de-throning me next year. I have won the Motorcycle class at every Lands End since 2016. I found myself thinking how much I wanted to trade my bike runs for another run in my car. I don't know what is happening to me but I knew from the get go that the two too many wheeled virus was not fucking around with me... I reckon it's not what you eat but rather how you eat it. It is not the size of the peanuts in the poop but the poop in the pants. The mysteries of the universe. The leftovers from the Indian restaurant. The warm last horse fly infested margarita after the ice melts. Yum.

Dog days

 

The Monarch hill climb was very fruitful. More winning and best of all was having my girls there with me. Even got our pit crashed by the lovable Warren who is keeping it real over on the Church of Choppers blog. Don’t tell his lady but I think I infected him with the race bug bad enough that he traded his ol widow maker YZ490 for a midget race car to come tear up the hill climbs! The guy I sold my old Pontiac to had a fun rookie race. Lost it after crossing the finish line but he already has the car back in good enough shape for the next race.

I came across another Hayabusa deal that was too cheap to pass up. Not sure what to do with it but I have a few ideas...

The old Goldwing had been put on mothballs since fatherhood. Unfortunately the carbs did not like the hibernation. After rebuilding the carbs I found the fuel pump not working. After replacing the fuel pump I found the fuel pump power supply circuit faulty. I pulled up my sleeves and soldered a new transistor onto the mother board inside the ECU. When the solder smoke cleared I took the family for a ride on the old Blue Whale.

Alex flew over from Norway to do some testing on Moped Dick. Good times were had and Bonneville looks promising this year. Although I am not going to be the piloting space monkey, or at least not the main one. Tomorrow I pick up Alex and his buddy Peir from the Airport. I might just sneak out there on the Goldwing if I can get the time off from work...

The little chip off the old block has her first couple of races under her belt. The pride I feel is out of this world. Her world is becoming a lot bigger and mine is becoming much more concentrated. The good stuff.

Here comes...