Miles to Nowhere

By Kevin Eckert

June 25, 2009 Speedway, Indiana: Home never looked so good.
Indiana Midget Week could not have come soon enough. I had just driven from Terre Haute to Columbus Junction to Knoxville to Grandview to Mercer for parades so pitiful that Paragon looked like an oasis.

Welcome to the dog days of summer, when 100 sprint races occur every week and one man (me) processes every one of them. Every year at this time, I catch heat for not writing more often. And every year, I sing the same song: only when the data is current. Perhaps I could dictate while driving? Anyway, strap in ‘cause this column jumps around a bit.

Travel brings anticipation that is likely to always be part of my life, like the shark that must swim to breathe. But sometimes, the beauty of travel is an appreciation for not traveling. Indiana is home because its “regular’ menu of wingless sprint cars on semi-heavy clay makes me happy. But the voice that tells me to stay at Gas City or Kokomo still wrestles with the track chaser that tells me to seek new and distant pleasures.

Midgets in Knoxville, Iowa were something unseen. Knoxville has been one of my favorite half-miles for 25 years. On each enjoyable oval, my complete experience will witness wingless sprints, winged sprints and midgets. Four-cylinders have been screaming around Iowa’s wide oval for seven straight years, yet midgets were missing from my Knoxville trifecta. Placing them back on Hall of Fame weekend helped change that, as did the museum’s new research room through which I foraged like a starving raccoon.

If not for my big dig, good friends and pride of helping legends to remain immortal, Knoxville was a total waste of time. There was trouble as soon as the water truck raised dust. The old half-mile was as abrasive as those afternoon abominations I avoid like syphyllis. Midgets could not go ten miles on a right rear. The stench of burning rubber mixed with Swindell victories to make me queasy.

And as I walked into my first Hall of Fame induction ceremony in nine years, a day of joy turned to sorrow with confirmation that Chad McDaniel did indeed die in the Doodlebug Classic. Like many midget racers, I met Chad during an Elephant Run gathering to Chili Bowl. I told him the story of riding north on 81 from Oklahoma City to Lincoln, Nebraska and stopping for gas in Concordia, Kansas, where I noticed a service station with the silhouette of a midget. It was the McDaniel midget.

As one of 72 to determine who gets enshrined in Knoxville, I see it as a responsibility that I take more seriously than most. But to see rough, tough outlaws like Roger Rager reduced to tears (big Brent Kaeding cracked last year) is to be reminded why each selection is held to such lofty standards. I was much better about the class of 2009 than 2008. I voted for Allan Brown because without his National Speedway Directory, outlaws like Rager would never have found Monett Speedway. I voted for Jim Chini because he inspired a generation of photographers and writers. Chini was himself motivated by David Knox and wants Knox in Knoxville as well. It seems simple that if a person’s work helped keep someone immortal, that person too is indispensable.

I did not vote for Fred Rahmer or my favorite racer of all-time Jac Haudenschild, not because they do not belong (their numbers are indisputable) but because they are still writing history. My focus is on those no longer in the spotlight, like Lee Osborne, who I championed long and hard until his inclusion.

Oz did it all, taking piles of tubing to victory lane in central Pennsylvania, USAC, World of Outlaws and All Star Circuit of Champions. After hanging up his helmet in 1984, Oz Cars became the chassis of choice in All Stars, USAC champ cars and ESS, where brother-in-law John Birosh was champion. I fear that a man who straddles two categories (driver/builder in Lee’s case) does diminish each case rather than doubling the credit as proper. Oz or Bobby Allen could have made the hall as car builders alone, as Charlie Lloyd should. Around 1980 when Outlaws were being pummeled in Pennsylvania by Lynn Paxton, Smokey Snellbaker, Kramer Williamson and Allen Klinger, they all drove tall skinny sprinters from Lloyd Enterprises of Highspire.

Back in ’84 when we watched Fred Rahmer win chug-a-lug beer drinkin’ races after slam-bam small block modified victories, few could have forcast him into the National Sprint Car Hall of Fame. First off, there was no such place. And second, “Fritzy” was just dabbling in URC. Four hundred checkereds and 26 track titles later, Rahmer was a resounding first-ballot choice.

Friday found a flock of Rahmer supporters to watch King Doodlebug and Masters Classics while Fred maintained Williams Grove points. Before we left the Hall of Fame, their Grove report brought word of the wingless practice that followed winged racing, practice that ended the Doug Esh topless experiment at the bottom of the hill in turn one. Last year, Fred completed a similar session and Grandview qualifying before opting out.

If the Pennsylvania promoters are serious about attracting winged professionals to wingless Wednesdays, a more active role is necessary. Someone like Frankie Kerr could conduct a seminar assuring everyone that very little is needed to make a winged car competitive. Tracks could cover the cost of tiedown shocks or wide front axles and USAC could compromise the cost of one-time participation. Last winter, Rahmer created a nice buzz by announcing USAC intentions. And boy wonder Cody Darrah was going to try this year, right before Esh crashed. Bob Miller needs those guys because Pennsylvania Posse fans have no clue about Brad Sweet or Chris Windom.

Rahmer was last to be inducted and clearly humbled. I glanced at one of his tables and saw Tom “Wop” Shannon, one of six in the station wagon that brought me to Knoxville that first time in ‘84. Fred mentioned how his Chad Clemens team was adjusting to new wing rules just before he and Wop stepped across the black dirt and missed the A-main.

Everyone hoped for better racing on Knoxville’s second night. And it was better for a while. But the top went away, the bottom wore out and burning rubber again filled the air. One night after nearly wrecking Jerry Coons in turn two, Kevin Swindell caught Coons sleeping with a lap to go. The hope of winged 410 boys (and one girl who planted “Mad Man” Madsen in hot laps) showing something other than cords was feeble at best.

Why had I expected a better surface? Knoxville had lured me with CRA, SCRA and USAC champ cars when the track was so hard that Ryan Newman found the front row. And this year’s Nationals final is 40 laps? As Danny Lasoski said of TNN tire selection, “We’re boltin’ on the bricks.”

Johnny Herrera and Troy Renfro won Knoxville for a second straight week much to the chagrin of Troy’s former driver Terry McCarl, who accused John of blocking the previous week. “I have to change the way I race a little bit,” Terry told publicist Bill Wright. “Outlaw guys race differently than local guys and I have to make that adjustment.” For the record, Herrera has run 901 WoO A-mains to McCarl’s 501.

USAC teams of Tony Stewart, Kasey Kahne, Keith Kunz, Scott Benic and Billy Boat had 66 hours to get 1066 miles to Grandview from Knoxville. I took ran that route, leaving Iowa to its happy holiday road blocks and crooked tow truck drivers.

Eight days earlier, this expensive Iowa adventure began by succumbing to the track chaser who caught his first Sprint Invader event at Columbus Junction. C.J. Raceway was a half-mile in 1979 when Randy Smith and Ralph Blackett won, under water in ’93 when the Iowa River flooded, and cut to its current four-tenth when Lasoski and Gil Sonner scored in 1994.

I entered its Louisa County Fairgrounds around three o’clock and found a steam roller raising dust. The south turn at C.J looked like the north turn of the Daytona Beach course where Curtis Turner raised roostertails of sand. I almost headed straight for Knoxville but after two lengthy grooming sessions that accomplished little, I was glad to have endured because Matt Rogerson recorded the winged 360 victory.

The Rogersons are three generations of fun. Father called IMCA fair races while Rusty sold programs. Rusty is the announcer for Sprint Invaders. George has been certifiably crazy for decades and once brought Matt to our apartment after a Hoosier Dome Invitational for an infamous whiz. Rogerson had the loudest cheering section in Columbus Junction, which marked his first Invader victory away from his Burlington home.

Iowa in the rearview, I spanned I-80 to Illinois and I-74 to Indianapolis, where I worked on the site, took a nap, swapped banquet clothes (Chini and Buzz Rose inspired the Hawaiian print) and proceeded to Pennsylvania for more wretched racing, though Dave Argabright and Doug Auld believe in no such thing.

During the drive east, I thought about Chad McDaniel, his widow and children, and realized that I have seen ten men die at auto races, including track workers or crewman like Saturday’s victim in Farmington, Missouri. On one hand, I envy those who have never witnessed such horror, but also know they can never share my level of respect for that which can kill.

September 19, 1976 was when I fully realized racing consequences were more severe than a pulled hamstring. That was the night Johnny Hubbard died in the first turn of the Reading Fairgrounds. Hubbard raced hard: Hagerstown supers, ARDC midgets, USAC champ cars, Reading modifieds. Johnstown was home and as I found myself near there, I decided to seek his cemetery, but failed.

Readers know me as non-religious but semi-spiritual in the sense that by thinking or talking of someone or something, their spirit may be conjured and absorbed. Five days later, that same sense of history made me climb the mountain that killed Curtis Turner. Last column, I mentioned the Smokey Yunick autobiography so entertaining that I had to check Turner’s bio from my Speedway Library. It opens in Easley, South Carolina with the infamous tale of Turner landing his plane behind a church because he was out of whiskey. Curtis was the Jud Larson of stock cars, the only man to pass Dan Gurney at Riverside with four wheels in the air, the only driver Louie Unser ever saw downshift with his knee heading up Pikes Peak, and the guy who taught the backwards “bootlegger turn” to James Garner for use in every episode of Rockford Files.

On October 4, 1970, Curtis Turner and golf pro Clarence King took off from the DuBois County Airport and crashed 12 minutes later about 10 miles north of Punxsutawney. Speculation by author Rob Edelstein is that jet fuel caused one gasoline engine to quit and send the aircraft into a tailspin from which it never recovered.

One of Turner and Joe Weatherly’s social gatherings in Daytona might rage for days, though Curtis saw several parties. Both books are consistant in him bellowing, “If you don’t like this party, wait five minutes. Another party’s just getting started!” But my favorite line might be, “If I waited ‘til I actually had money in my hand, I’d never have a good time!”

Pennsylvania opened with a tour of Diversified Machine Incorporated. DMI is deep in the heart of Lancaster, a short hop from Sinking Spring for proprietor Dave Ely. Dave’s family runs the office as 20 some craftsmen shape components for sprint cars and concert stages. One is Adrian Shaffer, who won 358 sprint races at Susquehanna and Lincoln in the weeks after we met. Ely tests new product at Williams Grove or Port Royal.

Before leaving the enormous DMI cathedral, Arizona’s Bob Ream stopped in with New Mexico racers Derrik Ortega and Kelly Denison. For two years, Ream ran Pennsylvania USAC races for Tom Buch, now exclusively behind Jesse Hockett. Ream brought Ortega and Denison to observe and assist Buch and Hockett, who led all 50 laps around Grandview.

Grandview got rained out last year with a promise to complete the program of 2008 in 2009, a logistical nightmare. The World of Outlaws encountered this situation at Rolling Wheels in ’89 and ‘93. Their solution ran second features in ’90 and ’94 for no points. No one knew what Bob Miller and Kevin Miller concocted. What they got was nothing but a fuel stop. Hockett wants to count trophies (he got two) but a red flag with no change in the order is one long race. Rocket ran an extra 20 laps for an extra $1500. He was slower than Windom or Bryan Clauson but filled the only groove at Grandview. At least it was on the boiler plate.

Tuesday thrills were provided by Steve Buckwalter of Montgomery County. He started outside row eight of the ARDC midget main event and cut the field like French fries. Buckwalter is a breathtaking study in aggression, no sooner completing a pass before attacking the next. Very few did not believe Steve destined to win the ARDC A-main at Williams Grove, where he spends Fridays going far faster. But the rain surrounding Grandview brought a second annual early cancellation to The Grove. USAC should dish dates to tracks that truly try like Big Diamond, which completed the quickest USAC sprint program in history on a Thursday that spit rain all around. Buckwalter was not on hand because for the first time in three years, Diamond did not pair USAC with ARDC but instead, Tobias Speedstrs.

Big Diamond had been horrendously dusty for two years. The first June, Levi Jones and Ricky Stenhouse swapped the lead through a brown fog. Last year, there was not much to see or much which could be seen. This year, I caught myself hoping for rain so that I could catch a Steve Earle concert. After much soul-searching, I concluded that Earle has never disappointed me and Diamond has not been the same since URC ran little wings. If I were mayor of Minersville, that 18-wheel tanker would get melted for scrap.

Tom Rooney phoned for a ride to Diamond and was told that I was headed to a concert in Princeton University. He thought that sounded fine. “Calvin & Caldwell Go to College” was my title for an acoustic tribute to Townes Van Zandt from the regal McCarter Theatre. After the show, I thought of stopping in Frenchtown to see Billy Pauch before realizing that he was covered in dust at Diamond, where Cole Whitt led the entire 30-lap parade around the pole for a second straight year.

Friday featured a third straight day of rain. Friday held five options to a non-discriminating sprint car fan. There was The Grove’s URC 360/410 doubleheader for a third straight year. Last year, it featured 80 cars and maybe three passes. There were also 410s in Clinton County, 358s at Trail-Way or 305s at Path Valley, all of which drowned by lunch, including The Grove.

My original Friday plan called for All Stars at Lernerville, another of my favorite half-miles to conveniently place me in the neighborhood for Saturday’s USAC show at Mercer. But after talking to friends, Lernerville no longer sounds as guaranteed to have a good surface as during Ouch Roenigk’s reign. Bad reviews and bad weather talked me out of All Stars. Of course, had anyone answered the track phone, I’d have come running! But by ten o’clock Friday night, I was so tired of windshield wipers that I bunked in Clearfield.

On a beautiful Saturday morning, I went chasing Turner’s ghost. Guided by an Amish native, I narrowed my search, pictured Curtis sliding a convertible to victory at Lincoln Speedway in ’56 or opening a motel door with his rental car, and played The Mountain by Steve Earle. I came down the hill for lunch in Reynoldsville, where the tavern was decorated in Dale Junior collectibles. The barkeep had never heard of the Curtis Turner who built Charlotte Motor Speedway. Such is youth.

I think that I can explain things to Junior Nation by stating simply that Earnhardt is not great, never was great and never will be great. “Little E” can change the crew chief every week. The only thing that puts him in victory lane is a restrictor plate with a big hole.

Leaving the Lehigh Valley after a kiss from mom, I had vowed to drive until it stopped raining. It was not too late to catch outlaws at Lawrenceburg or MSCS at Haubstadt. However, I was reluctant to abandon Mercer. Last year’s USAC tour inflicted identical disappointment that tempted me to cut Hagerstown loose, since it sucked in 2007. Three features at Lincoln seemed a wiser choice. But I went to Hagerstown and it was great! I hoped the closing act of 2009 could save this tour too. But we all got kicked in the nuts.

Mercer was dusty on an epic scale. Sprint cars could only be seen when they were directly in front of you. Whitt made an outside pass of Hockett for the lead and held off a wheel-spinning outside charge by Levi Jones, or so it sounded. Frank Benic’s surface draws raves from winged racers but he dropped the ball badly. Benic must not speak to his son Scott, who needs a cushion for his driver Dave Darland. Dave claimed to not pull a single tear-off in three Pennsylvania programs.

Here’s the damn deal: if you book wingless race cars, be they sprint, midgets or dirt champ cars, give them the kind of damp track on which they can actually thrill your fans. Those who book dangerous forms of racing with the idea of lessening the danger by slowing the surface do irreparable harm. Some may NEVER return to Mercer. And slowing down Knoxville did not help McDaniel. Please don’t waste the time and money of those of us who love wingless racing.

Shaking the Quaker State dust from my wings, I glided through Ohio to find myself in Richwood, home of Todd Gibson, his sons Gene, Larry and Terry plus Larry’s boy Zach, who crashed out of the previous day’s ARCA race at Pocono. When rear engines ruined the Indianapolis 500, Todd took an idle roadster, welded on a roll cage, stuffed a big block Chevrolet in it and dominated supermodified racing. Gibson joined USAC in 1969 before returning to supers, ironically in a rear-engine entry. Gene Lee had a good USAC future until Goodyear backing became illegal. Terry lost his life last summer in Toledo. Everyone in Richwood knew the Gibsons but none could direct me to anything resembling a race shop on a sleepy Sunday afternoon.

Indiana Midget Week has evolved into something special. Three years ago, it consisted only of Gas City and Kokomo, grew one night by 2007 and swelled to five in 2008, though Liberty got dropped. The last two Midget Weeks were opposite the Knoxville Nationals so moving midgets to June helped soothe Mercer anger.

Gas City I-69 Speedway opened Indiana Midget Week 2009. Under new direction but old supervision, Gas City saw its second change in leadership in eight months.

What a field! In addition to three Kunz cars, two of Stewart’s and one Kahne car were California natives Josh Wise, Thomas Meseraull, Kody Swanson and Wes Gutierrez, Arizona’s Nathan High, Oklahoma’s Matt Sherrell, Missouri’s Brad Loyet, Pennsylvania cars for Steve Buckwalter and Miranda Throckmorton (Burke 54) and two of the top talents in Australia, Mark Brown and Dene McAllan.

I-69 was greasy from bottom to middle. Cars slipped sideways and sometimes stacked those behind. Darren Hagen caused one cruncher while McAllan was blamed for another. Jerry Coons was a joy to watch, tracing the edge of control and showing a wheel to his quarry to help them help him by. Never overextending, Jerry made Gas City the 115th victory of his midget career.

Gas City’s special Wednesday sprint race may have been a transfer of power. Since folding the Foxco DRC last summer, Jon Stanbrough had not been the dominant force in Indiana sprint racing. Kids like Cole Whitt grew in stature. Foxco experimented on a J&J, reverted to DRC and made I-69 their second checkered in as many nights by taking Whitt’s win. They opened Illinois Sprint Week (during Indiana Midget Week?) by catching Clauson in Danville.

The second slice of Indiana Midget Week was supposed to be served at the Twin Cities Raceway Park in North Vernon. Midgets had not been there since 1999-2000 when regional USAC and NAMARS names were defeated by Jay Drake, now chasing ambulances as Ricky Ehrgott’s team manager.

Vernon’s last national USAC midget date was in 1994 when self-starters sliced car counts in half. “Calvin & Caldwell Go to Twin Cities” was the theme as Rooney and I caught midget hot laps and qualifying (Page Jones was disqualified for pulling a U-turn) but saw waves of stock cars and put the Pacer on a 47-mile jog down highway 50 to Lawrenceburg, where winged 410s and wingless 360s comprised the Jeff Thickstun Memorial. Randy Kinser’s win was not visibly taxing but the HSCA A-main saw John Ivy lose on the last corner to Derek Davidson, a Bloomington spectator during Midget Week 2009. Calvin & Caldwell then hustled back to Vernon too late to see Tony Stewart beat Kenny Irwin.

There would be no 2009 Vernon version of Indiana Midget Week because rain filled Twin Cities like a plugged sink. TCRP sits in a hollow beside a creek (more than Bloomington even) and was under water. They pulled the plug early enough for vacationing fans to foster notions of Illinois Midget Week at Jacksonville, perhaps the most rained out track in America. Tony was racing a POWRi midget at Macon until both Macon and Jacksonville rained out. Their loss was Brownstown’s gain when hordes of beer drinkers descended on the UMP Summer Nationals. Please give generously to cure Sudden Buckling Syndrome.

Indiana Midget Week (end) played each track’s regular night: Friday at Bloomington, Saturday at Lawrenceburg and Sunday at Kokomo. I still maintain Bloomington hot laps to be finest in the state, and midgets really have room to sling it. The best vantage point is the short stands outside turn two before it gets dark.

Joining me there was Jeffrey “Jak” Moore, crewing on the Polar Ice Spike of Dene McAllan. The last time that I’d seen Jak was 1988 when we were killing groundhogs (Punxsutawney cringes) from Jackson, Minnesota to Belleville, Kansas. I met Moore the previous autumn on a ride from Tucson, Arizona to Ventura, California as Terry Wente’s only crew. He now handles publicity for Brisbane International Speedway.

Also scaling mini-bleachers was A.J Fike and Darren Hagen, who drives for A.J’s dad Don. A.J was not in the finest mood given his demotion for Dave Darland. His position was peculiar because the better Darland did, the worse A.J would look. Indiana Midget Week is an after shock to NAMARS Five Crown, also five nights of sprints and midgets free from time trials. Darren was asked about group qualifying. He said there are no more hot laps so a second car went untested. If group qualifying hindered only two-car teams, fine. Hagen however, said the format also hurts visitors like McAllan or Mark Brown who probably need hot laps to find the proper gear.

Bloomington saw Kasey Kahne compete twice in a winged sprint in 1999. As an owner, Kasey Kahne Racing ran second on Indiana Midget Week 2008 with Brad Sweet, who was poised to improve that in 2009. From row seven, Brad Kuhn ran him down and ran him over, popping Sweet’s left rear tire in turn three. A few laps later, it led to a last corner win by Kuhn and a sad second-place interview by Sweet that sounded like Swindell tears. I should have recognized the flat and not booed Sweet Pea, who is a pure delight.

Bloomington has made it apparent over the past few years that any sprint race that positions Brady Short on the front row will lack for suspense. His inevitable victory was toasted along with Lord Stanley and his cup since Pittsburgh was in the house. Closing down Bloomington just before dawn, I parked between two campers, caught some sleep, and headed for Lawrenceburg.

Route 45 is a fun string of hairpins leading to Bean Blossom, where I remembered a breakfast nook. East to Gnaw Bone and down to highway 50, I paid five bucks to enter Versailles State Park hoping for a public shower only to come up dry. There’s a nice shower at Lawrenceburg Speedway. But they had a biker rally that restricted access. Bryan’s grandma Monica Clauson came through with a green wristband to wash up.

The new Lawrenceburg speedbowl may be too banked because until the top slows down, very little passing occurs. No one passed in USAC midget heats other than Hagen, who got rude with Ryan Kaplan entering turn three. Coons showed proper procedure by waiting until the last lap to clear Andrew Elson with a clean slide that won his sprint heat.

Quickest qualifier at Gas City and Bloomington, Steve Buckwalter had been knocking on the door of a first USAC win. Lawrenceburg looked like his best shot. In his heat, Steve tried to run above the cushion but found it too rough. Before the feature, a sheepsfoot was dragged around the rim. Buckwalter either did not see it or dismissed its impact because on the start, he blasted into one, found no cushion and almost fenced it. By the time he regained control, Steve was third. USAC however, did not like the start. And on the second try, Buckwalter behaved, brought his entry down a peg and proceeded to lead 25 laps.

Mark Brown’s U.S tour blew a tire in Knoxville, flipped down the frontstretch at Angell Park, and put a wheel on Kevin Swindell’s elbow entering turn one at Lawrenceburg that attracted Wise too. Under yellow, Buckwalter paced the field through ever-changing lanes between safety vehicles until a red fell for Brown’s fuel spill. Shortly after the green, Buckwalter lost air in the right rear, hooked the cushion exiting turn four, and watched Clauson take the glory. Sweet skipped across the apron to drop Buckwalter to third.

Lawrenceburg Chevrolet sprint cars provided one of the finest nights of the beleagured Truckers 24-hour road service team of Roger Tapy and Jim Whiteside. Before the race, Shane Hmiel asked his Truckers teammate Levi Jones if Levi thought they could run above the cushion. Jones asked where Shane started and discarded the idea. A few laps into the feature however, Levi whistled around Hmiel with four wheels in the snot. On cue, Shane followed Jones upstairs where tire tracks were their own. Watching them trace a Truckers express lane around the absolute rim was mesmerizing. Levi came from row eight to second chased by Hmiel’s second Top Three in six nights.

Long gone was Jerry Coons, who used Saturday as $1400 research and development for Dynamics, Inc. Every car started the sprint feature at Lawrenceburg, now so blazing fast that closing speed is vast. Coons is so cool that he gently brushed Clayton Brishaber and Jason Soudrette like a teacher might wake a sleeping pupil.

As anticipated, Kokomo Speedway was the exclamation point on Indiana Midget Week. Dave Darland was dreadful in his first night for Fike but bounced back to lead on his local banks. Sunday marked Buckwalter’s final shot at USAC status until Hut Hundred or Four Crown though Vernon is rescheduled for Tuesday, July 14. Steve mined the inside of turn four to coax Darland down while continuing upstairs at the north end.

Clauson slipped sideways, surrendered six spots, got ‘em back and tore second before Buckwalter’s ignition quit with five to go. Bryan brought Dave down low enough to loop around him exiting turn four for his second win in two nights and sixth of 2009. Clauson will try any line from every angle before moving on. Most kids his age (Bryan turned 20) blast the cushion or roll the bottom and if instant dividends do not come, they get restless. Clauson is aggressive but clean, smart and patient. Having his development deal dry up is NASCAR’s gift to USAC.

Coons went Whiteside one better than Levi at Lawrenceburg by posting the first Truckers victory of the year. Kokomo accounted for Jerry’s eighth win of 2009. Since last year’s wins by Hagen and Daron Clayton, Truckers had peaked fifth at Oval Nationals with Hagen, fourth with Jeff Bland (Kokomo) and Jonathan Vennard (Danville), third in the Eddie Bennett Memorial with Casey Shuman, and second with Thomas Meseraull (Dick Gaines Memorial) and Jimmy Light at North Vernon’s opener to 2009.

One week later, Truckers towed their black transporter through the pit gate at Paragon for their annual appearance in the King of Indiana Sprint Series finale. Paragon is a place that people go once a year to remind them why they go only once a year. It is as unchanged by time as any oval in America. If he could walk into Paragon tomorrow, Dick Gaines would find it just as it opened in 1957. No one is building any condos next to Keith Ford.

KISS (and MSCS) uses an all-or-nothing format where only the Top Three transfer through heats on an average night. Paragon is not average: 45 cars closed the KISS series. Hmiel and Vennard suffered poor heat races and Whiteside loaded and left before the B-main. In his defense, Paragon is full of overeager rookies and night blind veterans. Aero might call it Spank City U.S.A. As a fan however, C-to-B-to-A by Jesse Hockett in last year’s Paragon KISS contest will never be forgotten.

Jeff Walker, who lost Brett Burdette and Chris Windom to back injuries, called Clauson for the blue Maxim that carried Chris to three straight Illinois Sprint Week wins at Spoon River, Tri-City and Lincoln Fairgrounds. Bryan had not been to Paragon since winning at age 15. He took second from Shuman (following Bland into the Dan Roberts ride) and circled Danny Holtsclaw on the first turn bank before a caution took it away. Bryan returned inside of Danny, who blocked until they locked wheels. Holtsclaw got the short end of the stick and limped to the retention pond.

It is tough to make consistent lines around Paragon’s sharp corners. Clauson suffered a rough apex and caught an infield tire exiting turn four. Stanbrough smelled blood in the water and flashed outside of Bryan in turn one and side-by-side down the backstretch where Jon seized command.

Paragon was a peerless performance by Stanbrough, who showed that a determined driver can win from the eighth row. Bryan played with the knobs on Walker’s Super Shox and stayed with Stanbrough to keep things interesting.

Iowa and Pennsylvania made me better appreciate Indiana, where I intend to keep myself in the immediate future.

Ok