BONNEVILLE SALT FLATS — Burt Munro wasn't the only fast old guy on the salt.
In 1967, Munro, a New Zealand motorcycle racer who was in his late 60s, drove his 1920 Indian Scout bike to a world record on the Bonneville Salt Flats. His story attracted worldwide interest in last year's movie "The World's Fastest Indian," filmed on the salt flats and starring Anthony Hopkins.
But racers older than Munro was then aren't hard to find at Speed Week.
Whether tuning up cars, checking vehicle performance on laptops or seated at the wheel of some meteor roaring across the glaring white flats, speed demons at least 70 years old are a significant presence here.
That's not to say that a lot of young folks aren't here, too. In fact, a huge proportion of drivers and crew serving the 500 vehicles entered in Speed Week this year are decades younger, as are many of the estimated 25,000 spectators. The event began last Saturday and runs through Friday.
"Well, the car kind of bounces around a little bit, but it generally goes pretty straight," said Dave Ratliff, an 80-year-old resident of Norco, Calif. His comment was interrupted by the BUZZzzzzz of a vehicle flying past on the track.
Ratliff raced in the first Bonneville speed trials back in 1949. After a morning race on Tuesday, he and friends were in the pit area, working on his yellow race car in the shelter of a translucent blue canopy.
"I've got a 1929 Ford roadster with a '55 Desoto Hemi engine in it, running on gasoline," he said. With the hood off, the waist-high vehicle didn't look like something from the 1920s. A big aluminum vent stuck through the front plate of what would have been the radiator, to suck air into the engine.
How has it been running?
"Well, this year, not so fast, but in the past, I've been a little over 200," Ratliff said.
"The car kind of bounces around a little bit, but it generally goes pretty straight," he said. "When you're going fast, all your movements should be very slow, because if you don't, you're liable to cross up and start spinning."
That has never happened to him, Ratliff added.
"It's quite a deal to come up here every year and see people you only see once a year. And it's kind of a social event, as well as a racing event."
A friend from Washougal, Wash., Pete Nielsen, was helping him this year. The 79-year-old Nielsen said he enjoys coming to Speed Week to "visit my friends and help Dave and whoever else is in our group."
What's so great about Bonneville? "That salt gets in your blood, and it's just the way it is," Nielsen said. "It's something to do, and if you enjoy it, you do it."
A long, sleek car screamed by on the white plain.
Bob Eaton, 73, a resident of Cerritos, Calif., was working on his red roadster in the adjacent shelter.
"I only went 250," he said. "My excuse: couldn't get out of low gear."
Usually, he said, the car should be "knockin' on 300" miles per hour. That speed probably would have amazed the original owner of the vehicle — a 1929 Model A roadster on a 1932 Ford frame.
"See, this is the shifter right here," Eaton said, pointing to the part inside the cockpit. "When you're in the car, they have arm restraints so you can't fly your arms out. It was too short to reach the shifter."
Next time, he said, he would lengthen the restraint so he could kick the roadster up into the higher gear. It only has two gears, he added.
What's it like to race on the salt flats?
"If the course is smooth, it's a very enjoyable ride. But if the course is bumpy, I want off as quick as possible."
This day, Eaton said, "it's a smooth course. If it's a smooth course, it's one-handed driving."
Driving along the pit area, you see trailers, canopies, motor-oil vendors, a big gasoline tanker, a Wendover ambulance, SUVs, Red Flame Catering offering lunch and drinks from a bright-red trailer labeled HAMBURGERS, and an amazing variety of racing vehicles.
At the starting line for the long course, where a pink fabric marker shows the 0 marker, two lines of vehicles wait their turn on the five-mile track. Each has its crew, and most cars are pushed by an SUV or van or pickup truck mounting a wooden block in front.
Long black bombs barely off the salt, jalopies, motorcycles, roadsters: All wait their turn. The tracks are defined by black lines on the salt.
The support vehicles push the racers until they are fast enough to get into gear. Then the vans peel off. The timing starts when the racer reaches the second mile marker.
While vehicles waited this day, crews and drivers handled last-minute adjustments, engines roared or puttered or revved up and helpers held beach umbrellas over the drivers. Some held their ears during ear-splitting starts. At one point, acrid exhaust fumes stung the eyes and elicited coughs and hand-waving.
Race officials and spectators stood or sat on folding chairs, sometimes protected from the fierce sun by their own umbrellas. Everybody wore hats.
Jim Jensen, a San Diego man who is the chief starter, was dressed all in white, with his long-billed hat and havelock around his neck and shoulders. His white shirt was studded with racing decals, and a pair of bright red earphones was over the havelock.
"Quite a thrill for these guys," he said. "Most of 'em are pretty nervous when they first take off."
Before a run, Jensen and fellow officials examine the driver's safety belts, make sure the helmet is fastened, and check shoulder harnesses, neck braces and the parachute that will slow the car.
A black 1970s Camero took off with loud rumble.
Are many participants like Ratliff, the veteran who raced during Bonneville's first speed trials in 1949? "Well, not too many left," Jensen said.
"My father-in-law was here in 1949. His name was Bob Higby, and he became the starter in 1952. And he was the starter for over 50 years," he said. "He broke me in, and I worked into it when he passed on."
Bob Jackson, from the Phoenix area, turned 70 the day of his race at this year's Speed Week. He drove his long, low yellow roadster, "Bonneville Bob," at 242 mph. The world record speed for this class of vehicle was 255 mph, up from 251 earlier in the week.
Jackson had expected it to go 10 mph faster than it did.
"Well, it didn't go as good as I wanted it to," Bob Jackson said later, back in the pit area. "Wish I'd had a little more jet out of it, we'd have done better."
But the attraction remains.
"It's fun," he said. "Slidin' around at 200-something miles an hour is exciting."
E-mail: bau@desnews.com