Doing the Desert Drag

With temperatures as high as 110DEG and endless undulating stretches of parched sand, Southern California's deserts have been no man's land. By day, the only tracks were made by rabbits and horned lizards seeking shade; by night, the only noise was the sound of coyotes howling. Now the dunes reverberate with the sound of engines rev ving and backfiring. These are the echoes of the desert dragster, practitioner of the West's newest, and hottest, fad -- desert drag and dune racing.

During the past five years, some 15,000 backyard mechanics have bolt ed souped-up engines onto skeleton aluminum frames, stuck on a couple of tractor seats and suspended the entire Rube Goldberg contraptions on bloated airplane tires -- sometimes two up front and four in back. Organized into a par cel of clubs, the enthusiasts range from young mothers to 70-year-old business men, from hard-nosed competitors to misty-eyed naturalists. They all have one thing in common -- a child's impatience for the next rally or picnic.

Bucking Buggies. Last week the rallying point was at the huge Glamis dunes, known affectionately as the "American Sahara." There to compete were 200 dragsters with bright heraldic flags tied onto the top of flexible 20-ft.

antennas (to warn dragsters coming up the other side of the dune). For the first competitive event, they lined up a few hundred feet from the base of an enormous 45DEG, 300-ft. dune; then each buggy in turn spewed out buckets of sand as it charged upward, bucking furiously.

After each heat, the starting gates were moved closer and closer to the top of the dune, until only one driver reached the top.

Next came the "drag." Flooring their buggies from a standstill, the drivers made their huge tires bite into the sand like shoveling Seabees, then roared down the 1/8-mile course at speeds that approached 100 m.p.h. Blue ribbon for the top class in both events went to Herman Booy, a 29-year-old rosebush grower from San Jacinto, who won by going to great lengths. Instead of the usual 96-in. chassis, he struck a new--and better--balance by lengthening it an extra 30 in.

Just to See. For many of the new breed of desert rats, the races were just an excuse to enjoy the scenery. After the sun had disappeared along with canned dinners and roasted marshmallows, the sightseeing variety hopped back in their buggies, played follow-the-leader across the moonlit dunes un til 4 a.m. Said one enthusiast: "It is simply beautiful out there. In the moonlight, the sand looks as white as snow." If the sport exhilarates Californians, it absolutely floors foreigners. Wrote a senior Japanese naval officer after seeing the Las Vegas Strip, the Grand Canyon and Disneyland: "The U.S. is fine, but the dune buggies were fantastic--the highlight of our trip."

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