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8/23/10
AN ODE TO SENIOR SUPERS
Some things seem as unchanged as the sun on the equinox or the
winds over a cornfield in Missouri.
One of them is the racing community’s fascination with
supermodifieds.
Especially those senior supers of the sixties that started
– and largely defined – the division’s future direction.
(We have done a number of TEAROFFs about them, including
one posted justabout two years ago:
8/20/08 -
Transitional Technology - early supermodifieds)
A major reason for this enduring enthusiasm is that senior supers
are fundamentally beyond regulation.
An early super builder was limited only by the depth of
his creativity, frankly often with optional attention to the safety
of the driver. The
drivers, too, were essentially unregulated.
It was their job to launch the rocket ships at uncharted
speeds, beyond all boundaries of bravery – and common sense.
Supers grew up at speedways all across the
country, beginning right at the dawn of the decade of Woodstock and
Vietnam.
And across the country, there were many varieties within
the species.
In Florida, Pee Wee Griffin squeezed into his
father’s #72 at Palm Beach for the 1960 campaign.
The car was basically a lightweight, open-competition
modified, chopped and channeled on its way to superdom.
Over at West Capital Speedway in California, Billy
Vukovich’s “hard top” was also transitional, with its narrowed frame
and center seating.
From
Florida Motorsports Retrospective Pictorial, by
Eddie Roche
– Bobby 5x5 Day Photo
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From
Sacramento, Dirt Capital of the West, by Tom
Motter – Bob Bockover Photo |
Meanwhile, in the Midwest,
Bradley Poulsen’s image of an unidentified #55 shows sprint
car influence – and some very scary design and construction
technique.
Jerry Dolliver’s #24 “upright”
paraded around the Northeast with grand success.
The flyweight, based on a Model A
chassis, was powered by a flathead built by Bill Welch. That
engine alone carried Gentle Jerry to over 100 feature wins,
and it sits today in the ProNyne Motorsports Museum in
Pawtucket, Rhode Island. (www.pronynemotorsports.com)
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Bradley Poulsen Collection
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Boyd
Collection
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| The next couple of years were
full of experimentation.
Massachusetts innovator Andy Smith
glued together a tidy-looking #99 atop a late model chassis,
replete with A-Frames.
It took a super-smooth shoe such as
Freddie Borden, below, to ease it around.
But the more lasting innovation at
the time was the move away from stock frames towards what
were sometimes called “rail cars.”
One of the most infamous was the
frightening, unimaginably long wheelbased Wilmington Ford
#1/3.
Smokey Boutwell was a show himself
in that orange capsule of a cockpit.
The thunderous Ford big block would
fling him past two or three cars on the straights, but he
would give back one or two manhandling his way through each
turn. |
Boyd Collection |
Boyd Collection
By 1964, the custom chassis and space frames were just about
everywhere.
On the West Coast, short wheelbases were the
norm, with nice construction and California Speed-supplied power
plants.
It seems everyone drove one out there.
Here’s a young Gary Patterson, later known
as “the Preacher” and “the Hostile Hippie” during his edgy and
ultimately tragic sprint car career.
Those little Golden State supers were not
for the faint of heart.
At San Jose, Joe McGee jumped a right rear
and flipped into a congested pit area, hospitalizing 18 people.
From
Sacramento, Dirt Capital of the West, by Tom Motter
– Garcia Photo, Motter Collection
From
History of San Jose Auto Racing, by Dennis Mattish – Bob
Mize Photo
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It
was not a lot different back East.
Frank Barthell brought engineering
elegance (if not safety) to a small inventory of legendary
entries, arguably the most famous of which was Lee Allard’s
#1/4, “the Twister.”
A
highly accomplished pilot, Allard was a big winner until
Labor Day 1964 at Hudson Speedway.
He barrel-rolled off the fourth turn
and, as seen below, the cage literally sheared right off.
Lee was conscious afterwards and
pretty beaten up.
But nowhere near as wounded as he
was phenomenally lucky.
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Halloran Collection
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Halloran Collection |
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By the second half of the
decade, it seemed that the garage out back was closed down.
Highly sophisticated, expensive
configurations quickly came to rule, supported by a busily
growing industry of speed parts manufacturers.
Down South, the “skeeters” of Rat
Lane, Armond Holley, Gene Tapia, and Rod Perry gave way to
monstrously fast injected slingshots.
Below Page Reynolds in a winged,
rear engine machine nips Tony Walters at the line at Mobile
in 1967.
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From
Southern Supermodifieds by Gerald Hodges |
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At Oswego, New York, where
the annual Labor Day Classic had become such a showplace of
technology, the influence of Indianapolis was clearly
visible.
In 1968 Todd Gibson hauled in with
an ex-Indy roadster, “the Flintstone Flyer.”
He’s pictured below spinning, just
after setting a new track record of 19.47.
By the next year the field was
dotted with early wedge cars that led over the years to the
supermodified profile we see so frequently today.
That’s John Spencer in Doug Duncan’s
rear-engine car, shadowed by Irish Jack Murphy shaking down
Jim Shampine’s wedge.
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From
50 Years: Oswego Speedway International Classic,
by George Caruso Jr. with Carol D. Haynes
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From
50 Years: Oswego Speedway International Classic,
by George Caruso Jr. with Carol D. Haynes |
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January 1, 1970 ushered in a
whole new era, but few who were involved in those unruly
sixties will ever forget.
We certainly haven’t.
In 1971, a 5/8 mile dirt track
called Lakeville Speedway near Providence, Rhode Island, was
running wide open competition.
I bought an upright super from the
URDC circuit, perhaps ten years old at the time, for the
lofty sum of $400.
We adapted it for dirt and plunked
in a small block.
It was a little tentative for a
couple of laps while I waited for anything that wanted to
fall off to do so.
Then it was time to boogie!
Sure wish we all could still be doin’ that today.
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Boyd Collection
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Boyd Collection |
© 2010 Lew Boyd, Coastal 181
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