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Brock
Yates
Speed is freedom.
Freedom is
speed.
A buck is a buck.
Okay, so that isn't really Yates in the
picture. But give me a break. I needed something up there or I
would've offended the graphic gods. I tried to liberate one from the
Car and Driver web site, but his column shot is really a
crappy mess. Not finding another in my thin file of celebrity
images, I substituted this one, which I took along Highway 23 near
Paynesville, Minnesota, one summer while masquerading as the local
newspaper editor. Don't know who this guy is, but you could smell
him a long time before you could see him.
I've never met Yates, but from afar he
appears an interesting fellow. He once wrote a good book about
renting a ride in the old TransAm series and has done a couple of
stints on the staff at Car and Driver. He's the brains
guiding the annual One Lap of America, a gig that succeeded -- but
most assuredly did not replace -- the original Cannonball. Yates is
a terrific writer, but you need a thick skin and a resilient sense
of humor to appreciate it. He spews out humor and invective in equal
doses, and learned his political philosophy at the knee of Ghengis
Khan. And that's a philosophy he isn't shy about sharing. I once got
so miffed at his rants and Patrick Bedard's broad-brush misreadings
of the political landscape that I canceled my subscription to
Car and Driver. I still fondly recall his story about the
staff running a group of test vehicles down the Baja, though. Great
stuff.
Lately he seems to be trying to make
some money off the Cannonball legacy, which at first struck me as a
violation of the race's spirit. There was some something so, uh,
pure about the Cannonball. No rules to speak of, no prize money,
just a challenge met with good humor and innovation and just plain
gall. But we now live in an era when Black Sabbath music is used to
sell cars on television, so I guess times have changed and I'll just
have to live with it. Check out his scheme to extract $5,000 from
each entrant in some bizarreness billed as the "Cannonball
Classic" as it appeared on his official One Lap page.
I'll forgive Yates these transgressions
because he is The Man Who Dreamed Up The Cannonball Baker Sea To
Shining Sea Memorial Trophy Dash. Along with his son and a couple of
cohorts, he ran the first Cannonball in 1970 in the immortal Moon
Trash van, then organized a couple more before the attention of the
nation's constabulary effectively killed it. He tried again in 1978,
labeling it a frivolous adventure for those who love cars, and a
serious act of civil disobedience to protest the absurdity of the 55
mph speed limit.
But even then he was scheming to cash
in on the Cannonball, plotting to write a screenplay and film a
movie about it with Hal Needham, noted Hollywood stuntman and
director of Smokey and the Bandit, among other flicks. I
suspect that was his primary interest in putting on another race.
You can almost hear the gears spinning in Yates' head as he ponders
how his movie will appear on screen and solicits entries from "(1) a
monster, dual-axle, sleeper cab tracter to run "bobtail," (2) a
grand national stock car converted for road operation, (3) a
motorcycle, (4) a stretched limousine, (5) a techno-miracle car,
loaded with every conceivable anti-Smokey ECM gadget, (6)a unique
old car, say a 1930s sedan with modern running gear, (7) a very
strong pickup truck and, perhaps, if anyone has the nerve to drive
it, a full-dress pimp Cadillac. An authenic taxi would also be
welcome."
(A couple of movies did get made about
the Cannonball, but they were the irredeemably bad Cannonball
Run, and the spectacularly wretched Gumball
Rally.)
But, so what, he tried to make a buck
off his own deal. That's okay, cuz it's America and he's The Man
whose 1971 scheme allowed me to live vicariously through the
shenanigans of a cast of characters only congenital miscreants and
serial speed limit offenders like me could love.
Good going, Yates. Thanks.
--John
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