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- The California desert. People in the Midwest
think SoCal is all movies, palm trees and male
homosexuals. Maybe. But when you drive the 210
to the 15 due east, you get the desert. If you
were shanghaied and dropped in my car seat,
you could easily think, at points, you're in
Afghanistan. Like the song, Nothing from nothing
means nothing.
- Devore, Calif, right where you go from the
15 in Calif. to where you take the one to Las
Vegas. The town is still in the Sixties. For
the most part, this little dusty berg has fallen
off the radar. In some respects, some of the
fleabag horse-shoe-shaped motels remind me of
the ones where Capt. Dudley Smith whacks the
crap out of Danny DiVito in "L.A. Confidential."
- Yermo, Calif. (40 miles west of Baker, Calif.)
It's utterly windless outside our SUV. Yet,
when I look at the trees outside, I notice they
are severely bent, like it's blowing uncontrollably.
Some of this nature-crippled vegetation is located
around (get this, we're in the middle of nowhere)
a "Raging Waters"-type amusement park. This
area could easily be taken for a slightly hairy
surface of the moon. Who was the guy who bought
this deal? Better yet, how did the sellers find
him?
- 1950s road signs beckon the unsuspecting
to businesses in Baker, Calif., the last reasonably-sized
stop before the Nevada border. "The Mad Greek"
restaurant, home of the
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world's
best Strawberry Shake, "Bun Boy", the best hamburger
south of the Castro District in San Francisco,
and the best of all, "Alien Fresh Beef Jerky."
YOU heard right. I understand Fox Mulder used
to be a counter guy here.
- We get to Baker. Stone depressing. All desert,
all one-story, very little that's new and streamlined.
If the much vaunted "big one" (earthquake) happened,
it would cause at least $300 worth of damage.
- Primm, Nevada. Remember Roger Primm who ran
the Top Fuel dragster that Ron Capps drove to
his first and only NHRA Top Fuel win in, I think,
1993? His family owns the town. It's not a company
town, Primm is the town. God! "Let me show you
my house, it's this town straight ahead." Cartoonish
castles of gambling cool. A little tram that
takes patrons across the Interstate is called
the "Primm-A-Donna."
- Las Vegas. The newest and most stylish hotels
are the ones closest to those driving in from
L.A. The ones a little older are more towards
the center of town. Looks like a fast corporate
turnover here.
- In the center of town, or anything of east
of Las Vegas Blvd. and Sahara looks like a slightly
cleaned up crack city. Going by this sadness
on the freeway we see hand-painted signs on
dull brick buildings, "Mecanica Mexicana" and
"Las Vegas Rescue Mission."
- We visit Darr's dad, Jim Hawthorne (who,
by the way, was a famous radio personality in
LA)at a local IHOP, which just happens to be
at the aforementioned intersection, and I muse
a tad. Las Vegas attracts me in the way it does
most guys. Sex, gambling, booze, stretch limos,
and crack dealers. A TV screen at the Mandalay
Bay has live boxing action beaming at motorists
billboarding Oscar DeLa Hoya's next fight.
- Las Vegas, 'tis "Sin City." Artistically
plastic, disguised as Walt Disney with a drink.
An adult daycare center.
- Gambling and booze aside, the town is definitely
aware of this race. At the Palace Station, they
posted odds on the three pro classes after Friday's
qualifying. Yep, you can bet on the drags. Larry
Dixon was a 5-2 favorite with Brandon Bernstein
and Doug Kalitta following with 3-1 and 4-1
prices.
Funny Car was, surprisingly, led by then No.
10 qualifier John Force at 5-1, followed by
Tony Pedregon, Ron Capps, and Gary Densham at
6-1 apiece. Low qualifier Whit Bazemore was
next at an attractive 8-1. Pro Stock, Jeg Coughlin
at 4-1.
- We get to the track. For old timers, it smacks
of the then new Ontario Motor Speedway. Everything
is clean, fresh asphalt and concrete, and a
full-on regular town street that cuts through
the complex, its spine dotted by carefully planted,
same height palm trees.
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