Fast Car

“You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so we can fly away
We gotta make a decision
We leave tonight or live and die this way”……………………”Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman

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Malcom Campbell was the first man to top 300 mph at Bonneville on September 3, 1935.  He drove 301.337 on a dual pass 10 mile track laid out on the salt flats.  His record stood for 28 years until Craig Breedlove drove the first post 400 mph run in The Spirit of America on September 5, 1963.

Bonneville Track Line                                                                                                                 Craig breed loveBreedlove also was the first to break 500 mph and 600 mph.  at the end of his second post 500 mph (526.277 avg. over two runs) the ‘Spirit’ lost its parachute brakes and skidded for 5 miles , through a row of telephone poles and crashed into a brine pond at about 200 mph.  Breedlove climbed out of the cockpit drenched but uninjured and declared “And now for my next act I’m going to set myself on fire.”

Breedlove crash

Breedlove held the land speed records until Gary Gabelich broke the record on October 23, 1970 in his rocket powered ‘Blue Flame’ with an avg. speed of 622.287 mph.

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                                                                          IMG_1545 (1280x960)       It is an eerie place.  Perception is a difficult concept.  There is no way (in my eyes) to judge distance (and for this purpose, it is not important enough to me to look it up.  That is not the point.).  It has been said that when laying out the time trials track that one could not see from end to end due to the curvature of the earth.  The mountains in the distance are much farther than you would guess.  I drove for a good 40 miles and noticed no change in distance.  On a bright sunny day when the surface is free of dust the white salt disappears from the picture frame.  I have pictures of Max running across the surface where he appears to be suspended in air.

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The Big Lebowski                                                                                                     Dapper DanA Dapper Dan production  05/18/2013















Shot Through A Window

shot through weegeeWeegee was born Ascher  Fellig, in Zloczow, Ukraine.  He changed his name to Arthur when his family moved to New York in 1909.  The name Weegee was a variation of Ouija that he was nicknamed for his uncanny ability, as a freelance crime photographer, to be at the right crime at the right time.  He didn’t find it uncanny.  He listened to a police scanner, worked nights and hung out in high crime areas.  He was quicker than the cops.  And he had a penchant for altering the crime scene if he could get a better shot.  Move a leg here, adjust an arm there. He photoshopped before he clicked.  It didn’t endear him to the authorities.

” . . in my particular case I didn’t wait ‘til somebody gave me a job or something, I went and created a job for myself—freelance photographer. And what I did, anybody else can do. What I did simply was this: I went down to Manhattan Police Headquarters and for two years I worked without a police card or any kind of credentials. When a story came over a police teletype, I would go to it. The idea was I sold the pictures to the newspapers. And naturally, I picked a story that meant something.

shot through                                                                             New Year's Eve at Sammy's-on -the-Bowery, 1943.

He sold his pictures to tabloid and news agencies like UPI and AP.  He was self taught.

I drove from Armuchee to Redding, California in four days.  Most of the pictures taken on the trip were shot through the windshield at 80 MPH, with the exception of the Bonneville Salt Flats and the Wyoming rest stop with the prairie dogs.  2800 miles parked on my fanny in the front seat of the old 540 with no more than 30 minutes a day for hydration and relief.  The trip was much easier on this old frame than the last trip to Temecula in the F-150.  The 540 may be showing its age but it still rides smooth as silk on a good road and as quiet as a cat on the prowl.  Small blessings.


This one is from a former trip that I did with Max down I-80 from Providence to Yosemite .


Same with this one and yes I did Play with it.


Nevada………somewhere.IMG_1450 (1024x769)         ”  I can hear the bullfrog callin’ me, oh.
Wonder if my rope’s still hangin’ to the tree.
Love to kick my feet ‘way down the shallow water
Shoo fly, dragonfly, get back t’mother.
Pick up a flat rock; skip it across Green River.
Well!”………………………………….from ‘Green River’ by John Fogerty

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Always carry Fritos when you’re hunting prairie dogs.  They can’t resist………..psst:  They aren’t really dogs.

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The prairie dog hotel……..psst: Not really a hotel.

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Provo it is……….Psst:  Really

Dapper DanA Dapper Dan Production.  05/18/13