It’s been nearly a month since I promised to post videos of my dad’s burnouts at this year’s Wells Fun Run, and it’s going on six weeks since the event itself. To all my Loyal Readers who’ve been waiting on the edge of your seats for this — and that’s probably as many as two of you, I’m guessing — I apologize. Time flies, and it’s been especially fleet-winged this summer. The other day while I was taking my afternoon constitutional, I noticed the subtle difference in the air, that hard-to-describe quality when it’s still plenty hot outside, but the blast-furnace intensity of summer’s peak has faded and you just somehow know that a corner has been turned. The leaves aren’t changing yet, but the change is coming. Already. This summer’s shot to hell before I even realized it was summer.

You’ll have to forgive me. My mood always gets somewhat volatile this time of year, from just before Labor Day stretching on through Indian summer and into true fall (when Utah is blessed with a fall and doesn’t proceed directly into a foot of snow on the ground, which is how it’s gone the last few years). On the one hand, I love the changing weather and the golden light, the chance to slip into my leather jacket again, and the smell of woodsmoke and dried cornstalks. But I always get restless around this time of year, too, missing the certainty of long-abandoned back-to-school rhythms and knowing that, with the arrival of my birthday in September, another year of my allotted span is gone, another trip around the sun completed… another summer lost.

But we’re not here to lament over the inexorable march of time, are we? No, this entry is about celebrating my dad’s skill at an arcane competitive event.

Some of you may be wondering exactly what I’m talking about when I say “burnout.” Well, everyone knows what a burnout is, even if you don’t know it by that name, and many people — most people, probably — have done it at one point or another. You step on the gas a little too aggressively, your tires squeal and produce a little whiff of smoke, maybe you lay a patch of rubber on the asphalt, and then you’re off. For most people, a burnout is accidental and extremely transitory. In a burnout competition, however, the idea is to deliberately prolong the effect. Each driver is given 30 seconds to generate as much smoke as possible; whoever lays down the biggest smog bank and/or excites the crowd the most is the winner. Most people competing in these things will simply lock their brakes and stand there while their tires spin in one place. They might produce a lot of smoke this way, but it’s not really the most exciting thing to watch. The thing that makes my dad different and interesting — and ultimately successful at this — is that he knows how to keep the burn going while the car is moving. It’s trickier than it sounds. Most of the other drivers lose their smoke almost the instant they let their vehicles start rolling. But Dad has this knack… well, better you just see what I’m talking about. Here’s his first (and best run) from Wells this year:

You’ll notice the car tries to go sideways when Dad cranks on the power. Let me assure you, that’s normal, and it’s okay. A lot of the burnout drivers appear to be on the verge of losing control when they start to swing around like this, but Dad almost never does, which is part of the showmanship I mentioned in my earlier blog entry. I’m very rarely afraid that he’s in trouble when I see this.

Now, here’s his second run. The video isn’t as good, I’m afraid. The sun was down by that point and the light was nearly gone, so my video camera was having trouble holding focus. Also, the Nomad stalled just after Dad began his run. The engine was hot, you see, and big, high-compression, carbureted engines that are overheated are prone to a condition that you don’t see much in modern, fuel-injected cars, i.e., vapor lock. But the rules say you’ve got 30 seconds from the time the burn begins to generate smoke, so if he can the car going again…

In case you’re wondering, that really irritating squeaky noise in the background comes from a kid who had this big inflatable hammer thing with which he was beating his brother over the head. I was very close to taking it away from him.

Anyhow, because Dad was able to restart the car and resume his burnout, this run counted… and as you can see, it actually turned out pretty well, considering he lost so much time. Well enough that he won first place this year.

I know this is a silly event, and damn hard on the environment… but I love watching my dad do it, and I have to say again that I’m really proud of him. The crowd out in Wells knows that car, and they love it and him. There was a time when I didn’t have a lot of respect for my dad’s interests or abilities. What can I say, I was a real dumbass. Now I know better. Now I know it’s really cool to watch your old man when he’s in his element, doing his thing, and winning at it…