Okay, so let's just say that last Monday was the most epic day of the summer. Period. Here's the story: After completing a fine Top of the World run at 6 o'clock in the a.m., my little brother and I jumped in the family Suburban and burned rubber out to Miller MotorSports Park.
MMP, as it is known, is a little slice of heaven out in the middle of nowhere...Tooele. And believe me, when I opened the front door to exit my beautiful behemoth of an SUV, I knew the day could not possibly get any better. The whine of Porsche 911 Turbos, Chevrolet Corvette ZR1s, and Subaru WRXs sang hymns most angelic as I entered the main doors of the welcoming center of what had become, in two seconds, my favorite place on earth.
Mkay, forget Disneyland! This right here is the Happiest Place on Earth!A meager grandstand seperated me from seeing these beautiful feats of finely tuned machinery, but as I proceded through the glass doors into the first building at the compound, following in the footsteps of my father and brother, I realized the day that I thought could not get any better just did. We were welcomed by a familiar face, and I realized the Midvale East Fourth Ward priests have the coolest young men's leader on the face of the planet. This guy drove racecars and hung out with big name celebrities, like skateboarding star Buckey Lasik, for a living! WOW! With a large smile on his face, though not nearly anywhere near as big as the grin plastered all over mine, he informed us that he had "something I'd like to show you"...I love those words.
This Is The Glorious Beast I Beheld
He threw up the corrugated garage door, and opened a gateway into a motorhead's wonderland. Inside the four walls that enclosed the museum dwelt millions of dollars of fire breathing Ford racing heritage. I about died right then. We were led on a guided tour of this wonderful piece of euphoric bliss, starting with the Cobras, Mustangs, and my personal favorites, the Ford GTs. These cars were introduced to LeMans racing with one sole purpouse: to beat Ferrari. This goal was achieved in the 1966 24 Hours at Daytona race, but this story has a bit of an ironic twist to it. The Mark II I witnessed at the Larry H. Miller Museum, in fact, finished second.
This particular Ford GT (Gran Turismo) 40 was driven by Ken Miles, the prestigious LeMans racecar driver, and personal hero of yours truly. Anyway, he had lead the race, and was ahead of the second place car, another Ford GT driven by the now famous Bruce McLaren, by a stretch of 9 miles. Henry Ford Jr., however, wanted to take the opportunity to rub the victory in the faces of his Italian competition, and stick American ingenuity in the face of Ferrari. He called for Miles to slow down in the coming laps to allow the other two GTs, which were occupying the second and third positions, to catch up and provide a straight Ford photo finish. At the finish line, Miles was expected to win...but McLaren, in a feat of driving prowess, lunged ahead and clinched the title for himself, forever sealing the Ford GT Mark II as the second place car to beat Team Ferrari in a 24 Hour race.
The Ford GT 40 1-2-3 Finish
This twist of racing fate made this car even more valuable than the winning car, and the Mark II GT 40 I saw at the LHM Motorsports park is worth a whopping $10 million. That was not the only Ford GT I saw that day, for I witnessed the only complete set of Ford GTs in the world. From the GT Mark I to mark V, I saw them all. It was awe inspiring.
After drooling over cars for half an hour, we proceded out to the Karting track, which, when the entire course is opened up, is over a mile long. This was the main attraction, and it didn't fail to please! Imagine sitting on a stack of quarters and flying over the ground at 50 miles an hour...yeah, it was all that, and much more!
Settling down into the bucket seat, gas tank between my legs, gas on the right, brake on the left, crash helmet on my head, and neck brace around my throat, I gripped the racing steering wheel and readily awaited the green flag. The green cloth dropped, and I punched the gas. Squeeling tires sent my 165 pounds sailing down the first straightaway and through the first bend. I was euphoric! Flying down the track, I quickly learned not to mash the brake, or floor the accelerator around the turns, and quickly mastered the subtle nuances of racing a kart. Skimming around the final bend into the back straightaway I hit my top speed of just over 50 miles an hour, and continued back into the first turn. I completed lap after lap, overtaking other amature karters, and being overtaken a fair number of times myself, usually after pulling off a substantial drift.
It wasn't until my second fifteen minutes of track bliss that I really found the groove and began slashing track times. I literally blew my dad out of the water, meeting his challenge of "you'll never pass me" he issued at the beginning of the second session. I was thrown around by G forces, and pinned to my seat, only to be nearly ejected from my kart as I braked for the next hairpin loop. It was a most excellent way to spend a day.
I, of course, will be heading back to my heaven in the boondocks, and am currently earning money to buy myself a competition go-kart to satisfy my recently discovered racing needs.
And I thought mondays were supposed to be the worst...
