The Dragsters

Once they were standard American autos--the friendly coupes and roadsters of the '30s, or hefty contemporary sedans. Now they were barely recognizable. The hot-rods, crowding the runways of the airport at Lawrenceville, Ill. for the "World Series of Drag Racing" last week, had come a long way from the Detroit production lines where they were born. Some had been entirely rebuilt. Some were stock cars with souped-up engines. Some consisted merely of a stripped-down frame and cockpit. All had that something extra: they could get up and go.

The 340 drivers, too, were something special, a far cry from the hopped-up youngsters who made hot-rodding a dirty word on the nation's highways after World War II. There was not a "squirrel" among them--no juvenile delinquent with wheels to zoom through traffic and terrorize the workaday motorist. These were youngsters who get their kicks by improving their cars and then testing them in a relatively safe and sane manner. They do their racing on "drag strips"--abandoned airport runways, four-lane roads specifically set aside for their use, or some other isolated and guarded track. Competing two at a time, the cars start from a standstill and make a straight quarter-mile run. They test both acceleration and speed as they are clocked in the same sort of electronic speed traps with which traffic cops nab speeders.

Broke & Proud. For good acceleration hot-rodders try to move their engines back on the frame to give their cars the best traction possible. They cut away every encumbrance, often dispensing with fenders, starters, fans and fan belts. They change gear ratios, add carburetors to improve combustion, grind down cylinder heads to boost power, "channel" bodies (i.e., lower the center of gravity) for safer riding. Thanks to the Automobile Timing Association of America (which sponsors the series) and other friendly organizations, there are specific safety requirements for competition: safety belts, crash helmets, carburetor covers, fire walls back of engines, handy fuel shut-off valves.

This kind of hobby costs money, so hot-rodders are generally broke and proud of it. When they parked their beasts at Lawrenceville last week, most of the drivers had spent their last dollars on tools and parts. They spread out blankets or pitched tents to sleep right at the airfield. One driver and crew emptied their pockets to buy five watermelons, on which they hope to live until they get home.

Tone Is Important. Morning and night the hot-rodders worked on their cars with meticulous care; when they laid down their tools, they talked with evangelical fervor, often using a new language of their own (see box). "Our parents weren't raised in an age like this," said Jim Dunham, 21, of the Elmhurst (Ill.) Monkey Motions Club. "They still think it's silly spending money on our cars." He patted his souped-up (from 162 h.p. to 182 h.p.) stock 1955 Ford with pride. "They're just beginning to understand what it's all about. They see that if we can get ourselves a drag strip, we behave right. Noise? Sure, I guess you call it noise. But that roar from the exhaust is all part of hot-rodding. I guess it gives you a feeling of power, too. But we work a lot to get just the right tone. To us it sounds beautiful. Tone is very important. Another thing. A lot of people think that it's just kids who are hot-rodders. Well, there are a lot of old people who have rods too--you know, 30 years old--like that."

Another contestant was Jim Thompson, 25, from Bakersfield, Calif., whose 1932 Ford houses a 1939 Mercury engine. Going all-out for speed, Thompson uses highly combustible nitromethane (at $7 a gallon) for fuel, has crammed four carburetors on his engine. Said he: "At first, my dad said absolutely I couldn't have a hot-rod. He's coming around now. My mother thinks it's O.K. She had this car out and turned 100 m.p.h. in it herself."

Test runs and last-minute tune-ups out of the way, the world series got off to a roaring start. To hot-rodders, at least, the tone was beautiful. It was undeniably loud. And it was particularly impressive when Lloyd Scott, 30, took his twin-engined "Bustle Bomb" out for a crack at the big gold Maremont Trophy (including a $1,000 college scholarship), provided by Maremont Automotive Products. His fuel hopped up with nitro, an Oldsmobile engine in front of him and a Cadillac engine behind, Scott was an easy winner as he rocketed down the quarter-mile strip to hit 151 m.p.h. from a standing start--a new world record for drag racing.

Winner Scott, a machinist at Douglas Aircraft Co. in Long Beach, Calif., also walked off with all the other major trophies. He started out in midget racing, switched to driving hot rods because his wife thought it was less dangerous. He took two years to build his "Bustle Bomb"; two friends own one engine each while Scott owns the body.

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