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Hot Night at Buena Park
by Pete Sheeves

I was staying in California on a business trip to work on a proposal. The company had put several of us up in a nice hotel with the prospect of staying a week or two. Since I’m a life time slot car addict I decided to take my slot cars along to visit the Buena Park track. The track is a Mecca for serious racers and has hosted several national championships. After work I got into the rental and found my way through the interstates to the storefront nestled in a suburban strip mall. 

I showed up at the track with a little trepidation, figuring I'd get some time on the Ogleve King to try out my wing cars. No pressure. I wandered through the pit tables to find various forms of wing chassis in different states of repair and construction. The drag strip was empty. I looked over and there was Chris (the owner) wafting glue onto the surface with a hand held sprayer. Hmmm. "Race tonight?" I ask. "Yeah, tonight is 12 night." He responded without looking up.   

I had two Gp 12s in my box so I told Chris I might just enter. After a few minutes he powers the track for open practice and I take my box to the racer station. My black, yellow and green car (nick-named “Nancy-Von” for sentimental reasons) goes on first. Pop, pop, out of the slot. Lotsa of power! I got the car rolling into deadmans and it wouldn't even get into the turn. It walked out of the slot each time. After trying three times to drive through the bank I decided it is my own fault for letting up too soon. Going too slow reduces the downforce on the car and lets it deslot. “Time to make it act like a wing car.” I told myself. “Fly the bank.” I resolved to just tap the brakes early and punch it hard at the bank entrance. Every road racing fiber in my body was cringing. 

I stomped the gas down the straight, tap the brake and stomp it hard again. The car rocketed through the turn to the finger. Flick, flick back to the straight. Again, tap and shove.. she shot around the track building speed. By now I was recalling watching a 12 race on my last visit and noticed that the boys only tapped the brakes thrice per lap: deadmans, the bottom and top of the bridge. So I tried it. Yep! She was skooting! A passing racer mentioned that I have far too much tire for the goop and I'm going to cook the motor. Hmmm.... How short was my joy..! All my cars had too much tire. They clearly weren't set up for this track. 

I switched to my other gp12. This car was sporting a fresh body I bought on my last visit here. Normally this car is skitterish as heck but the combination of narrow, dried out tires and the new lower body seemed to have transformed it into a great goop-track car! I punched my newfound joy around a couple of laps noticing how much less and less I had to use the brakes each lap. She was winding out easily. Too easily. Somebody put another gp 12 car on and I felt like I was going backwards! Each lap the image got worse. My car felt slow. My car felt like “ slow traffic”. My car felt like “parked traffic”. It was no wonder it didn't fall off. The car wasn’t fast enough to fall off! I picked it up and the motor was very hot. Suddenly I didn't feel like entering the race anymore.  

Next I pulled out my "open". This was the wing car sporting a “green giant” open motor from the early 70s. This car had been the “final arbitor of speed” for me for a decade. The car traversed a normal track back home with enough speed to stop my heart on a bad day. The motor had never bogged... it couldn’t even spell it. I set the car on the lane with high hopes. Pop, pop, Chatter and go! The car flew the bank and ripped through the over-gooped corners with complete abandon. Maybe a little too much abandon? She was actually scrabbling around the turns and leaning over! This car which represented my image of monster speed and strength was heeling through the turns like a 7th avenue bus! With its full size can motor and .010 wing material the car cornered like an SUV with a full roof rack! The car was lapping the track but I figured it will never hook up and work on this track. I was just shoving holes in the air. I put the car away before it got broken.   

So I pulled out my new/used gp15 and sliped it onto the track. Pop, pop, pop. Too much tire and too much power. I couldn't do the same trick I did with the gp 12 of overdriving every turn to hold the car down. It was hopeless. Oh well! The gp 15 went back into the box.

I pulled out my gp 27 and, of course, it was worse. Passers by on the sidewalk across the street rushed into the store to warn me that I was going to burn my motor using those huge tires on a goop track! OK. So I went to the counter and talk to Chris about buying a new set of hard, narrow tires. At least a new set of tires would let me try to drive my old toy. Chris tried to talk me out of it because the tires are only good on this track and won't help me back home in Atlanta. (Somehow, Chris thinks Atlanta is in Alabama... but I digress.) I assured him I would remember to swap the old tires back on when I got home and he helped me get the new set mounted. 

Alright! Here I go! Zzzzip, zip! I was through deadman's and desloted off the finger tapping the wall. Man! That car was fast! Chris picked up my gp 27 and the motor fell out of the chassis! How brief was my joy… I didn't have a soldering gun with me or the patience to borrow one.  

OK, now what? So I swapped the stone pony tires onto the gp15 figuring I'd have a prayer of making some laps. Surprise! The gp 15 car really goes! I started painting the track with a blur from the yellow body and for the first time start to pick up the lap rhythm. For once, I was having fun.  

On the third lap the pounding mill ate through the plastic gear and I was back on the trailer again. I decided it was Miller Time, folded my tent and made off into the night.

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