December 13, 2005
By guest blogger Bob Bower The terms "Racing" and "Competition" are sometimes considered interchangeable. Yet, there are times when one defines the other. In the case of the 2005 Henderson's Terrible 400 the Competition clearly defined the Race. Yes, each class has its race, and each class has its drama. But for the Stock Full class in Best In The Desert Racing series there is more.
Not to say other classes have less competition, or the racing is less astounding, but gee whiz... how many of the classes had over seven of the nine entrants all in the 1.2 mile infield at the same time at the end of the first lap? More than that, how many of the classes saw the second through fifth place finishers within sight of each other during the last thirty miles on the last lap? Not exactly a parade, but more of a brawl.
It was a battle of risk, skill and luck.
The Donahoe Racing/Banks Power/Ford Super Duty team took that last thirty miles by ignoring the risk, mustering all the skill it could, and enjoyed a smidgen of luck to take the checkers with a second place finish.
But, let's go back to the beginning...
Team Donahoe was fresh off the Baja 1000 effort that taught much about the machine, but left the team without a checkered flag. Its performance at the Baja 1000 sent a clear message. We knew we had a fundamentally sound and fast race truck in the diesel powered Ford Super Duty. So, with a commitment to race for the 2006 Championship Title in the Stock Full class in The Best In The Desert Racing series, it made sense to run the last race of 2005 to measure the competition and to punish the truck to see where we might stand. So off to Henderson it was...
The final assembly of #8117 at Donahoe Racing Enterprises in Anaheim involved new Deaver springs for the rear, a new ring and pinion in the front, new axles to replace the carnage from Mexico, and a sundry of other refinements all prompted by the lessons learned from the Baja experience. At times the crew looked more like ants on a sugar cube than a dedicated corps of skilled volunteers getting a race machine dressed and ready for battle in the harsh Nevada desert. Nonetheless the diesel powered Super Duty Ford was put on the trailer in fine shape to meet the challenge of 400 difficult miles in the southern Nevada desert. Henderson, here we come.
Registration, tech inspection and contingency took all of Friday. Late in the evening the final prep on the special 41/2 inch Donahoe Racing shocks is completed and we get settled in at our pit location out in the desert. It's cold and windy. Nothing seems as cold as night time in the desert. A black sky, a dense canopy of stars and the gusty wind that rocks the motor home warns us that we are probably in for a brisk and chilly race day.
The chase teams are in place and the green flag drops. Kreg Donahoe is at the wheel for the start but has had very little seat time in the truck. It does not show. He is completely in command of the four ton missile. The first ten miles are devoted to feeling out the machine and setting our pace for the first lap.
A few miles before Pit One we slam into a dangerous series of holes and whoops. The down arrows that used to be there to alert all the drivers have been mowed down by an earlier starter. We don't see it coming in time. It was a powerful hit. All three of us in the cockpit are thinking the same thing. "Whoa Big Fella!", but in an instant we were on it and then airborne. Big noise from the front end! We stop and Kyle inspects the front suspension and axle housing for damage. Everything is A-OK. We lose about three minutes but gain a ton of confidence in the strength of this truck.
We continue up the course through the cross grain and up into McCullough Pass. Cliff roads are fun going up the pass, and not fun going down. Through Pit Three and back up the pass toward El Dorado Valley. The dust is thick and the front runners in Trick Truck and the unlimited Class 1500's are coming up on us from behind. Now driving the mirrors is just as important as what is ahead. We are passed several times, but without incident. Our pace is best described as rapid. We are fighting dust induced visibility problems on the power line road that leads us toward the end of lap one. Of course, we are big and creating more dust than most, so it all evens out.
Back to the start finish area and through the infield serpentine starting lap two. It is a 1.2 mile maze. It is quite populated with seven of the nine competitors in our class all within sight of one another. It answers one of the key questions we came to determine. "We can run with the fast guys".
Lap one was a prerun. Kreg wastes no time in turning it up. We return to the crunch spot at Mile 12 and sail past the mowed down warning markers. The cross grain section has claimed several cars. Ahead we see the yellow Ford of #8104. Kreg takes big bites on the way through the ditches and rocks. We are pulling closer to #8104. The pass is not one of those "Flash By" passes. We are about two miles an hour faster and it takes long enough to get by them for us to be side by side for about 200 yards. We wave, they wave. They are now in our dust and fading from sight.
Back up toward McCullough Pass and over. Pit Three flashes past and we head for the dry lake bed. Somewhere out on the dry lake bed the Super Duty seems to realize that it is not meant to tow a trailer. It comes alive and realizes it is a race car. It likes this stuff! It lays its ears back and gallops. It feels light and nimble. It feels like a tough guy. Kreg has a race car, and he is spanking it.
The race plan was to do a driver change at the end of lap two. New plan! Kreg will stay in for lap three. We change the third seat. Kyle is out and Dylan is in. We fuel and go. Lap three seems faster. The Super Duty is gobbling up the rough, and smoking it on the fast stuff. Pit One passes. Pit Two passes. Up the rocky section toward the pass and then the steering wheel starts to kick back. Kreg's hands are hurting, but the truck is not slowing.
Over the pass and then down to Pit Three. Once there we come up on a line of race cars stopped at the check point. There is a problem out on the dry lake and the race has been red flagged to allow a medivac helicopter to rescue an injured racer. Drivers are out of the cars and talking with each other. We are told by officials to expect a delay of about 20 minutes. Sure enough, we are soon back in the truck and waiting for a green light.
Because of the red flag delay at Pit Three we are not sure exactly where we stand on time and position in the battle. We think we are probably in third place, but we also know that the last car through the check point before the delay is the leader in our class. The rest of the class is in line with us. When they open the check point we are told that when we get to the front of the line for the green light we should just wait to see it. It may be 30 seconds; it may be a matter of minutes. We think that means that BITD has logged us in upon arrival and will send us out in real time sequence. We think. So much for running a calculated race. We discuss the situation in the cockpit. The solution is really quite simple. "What does it really matter? Run like hell and do the best we can do". The light goes green.
Under power once again and headed out on the dry lake bed. Kreg has the throttle on the mat. We are kicking up a huge cloud of dust and traveling fast. Suddenly there is a car on our left. It pulls up to us and goes by. It is Chuck Hovey's unlimited single seat racer and he is on his last lap going for the overall. Then his cloud of silt dust hits us in the face. Blind at over 80 MPH! Kreg veers left in search of clear air. We get our visors cleaned up and the big happy Super Duty romps along without missing a beat. Tow truck indeed. Ha!
Kreg takes us up and over the pass. We are not passed by anyone, nor do we pass anyone. We just run. Downhill, along the power line road, up the pipeline road to the right turn that takes us down toward the main pit. On the radio Donahoe Main lets us know they are ready for a driver change and fuel. Kreg and I are out, Steve Kreiger and Tim Ireland are in, and Dylan stays in the third seat.
The pit stop and change is over. Kreiger leaves with control and quickness. Suddenly, it is quiet. It is chilly. Kreg and I are standing in the pit trying to process it all. We both know that it is now out of our hands. Yet, we also know that the Super Duty is in good hands.
Helmets off, and then that great feeling of scratching your scalp like a mad man. It feels so good. We are hungry. And thirsty. We go for a hot cheese burger and a bratwurst at the concessionaire. Yum. Then back to the radio in the pit. The radio is strangely quiet. All day the frequency sounded like a radio talk show, but now there is nothing. All those teams have finished and are silent.
Kreiger runs his first lap on the conservative side because he has no prerun to let him know what is ahead. That said, he is no stranger to the Super Duty. With hundreds of miles of seat time at the Baja 1000 he knows the truck and its limits. So it is safe to say he was conservatively driving the limits on his first lap. He comes around to the main pit in what we think is third or fourth place on his way to the last lap.
The last lap shapes itself into a real donnybrook. Somewhere between mile 15 and mile 17 Kreiger passes the #8104 Ford of Randy Merritt. We think we are now in second place. At mile 43 he takes a line to the right which turns out to be a mistake. The #8102 of Chad Hall takes the left line and jumps ahead of the Super Duty. We think we are now third. Bang! A loud POW sound comes up from the front of the Super Duty. Kreiger, Dylan, and Tim all point their "Buttometers" to the noise. Kreiger says he has steering, brakes, throttle and control. We don't know what the heck the noise was, but it was real. Drive on! Just 30 miles to the finish now, it is dark and the second through fifth place cars are in sight of one another. Merritt is in our dust, and the lights of the HUMMER are just up there ahead of us. Kreiger drives like there is everything to gain and nothing to lose. He is right. He pushes the Super Duty over the pass and onto the power line road. 18 miles to the checkers now.
Ahead, somewhere around mile 56 the HUMMER of Chad Hall smacks a tire flat and the Super Duty drives by. 14 miles to finish. Kreiger gets quiet. The entire cockpit gets quiet. Gas... steer... brake... gas some more. Kreiger is pushing the limits of his lights. Hard right off the pipe line road and down the hill to the finish. Then the checkered flag waves for #8117.
The left front of the Super Duty is stuffed down on the tire as it motors up the ramp for the interview. The big bang and POW was the coil spring saying Bye Bye. The Super Duty that will never tow a trailer showed that it is indeed a tough guy. It ran the last thirty miles with no coil spring in the left front. Nothing left but the Donahoe Racing 4 1/2 inch shock. And, it ran hard and fast. It likes being a race car. It has heart and toughness. We are awarded 2nd place in the Henderson's Terrible 400.
A look in the rear view mirror reminds us that we came to this race to measure ourselves against the competition and to punish the truck. Our competition is strong and spectacular. They run hard. They are serious. Our race machine demonstrates that it is certainly a force to be reckoned with in the chase for the championship in 2006.
Would it be redundant to say we are very much looking forward to the great gathering at the 2006 Best In The Desert Parker 425?
BB
"Life Is A One Lap Race!"
