Seeking checkered flag
Spencer and Ken Tripkos, owner of the Triumph Bailey drove. Tripkos, also one of Spencer's employees, is a year too young to race in SCCA events so he and Bailey set up the TR-3 and went to Salina.
(Continued from page 14)
Entriken has been competing in gymkhanas for several years in his MGA. He started running events in New York sponsored by member clubs of the Long Island Council of Sports Car Clubs (CLISCC).
After breaking the original 1,500 cc engine Entriken installed an 1,800 cc MGB engine—the only one he could find at the time. His car, with the increased powerplant, was reclassified one class higher in many CLISCC events. It didn't seem to hinder him much. He has a shelf full of trophies he has won in 'khana competition.
For SCCA racing, however, the 1,800 cc engine was strictly illegal. He found another MGA driver with a 1,622 MGA engine—the largest legal one he could use, and made him a straight trade. Then he had the makings of a race car.
Apr. 16 KANSAN 15
1969
"I was an undergrad at KU driving a '55 Pontiac when I began to follow the rallies and gymkhanas pretty closely," Spencer said.
Spencer's first step came from trying to take advantage of a bargain.
"While still there I bought a Mustang. It was my first experience with a car that had any real handling and performance. I spent some time and a little money on improving the Mustang and became more interested all the time.
Racer's edge
"Then one summer my wife and I decided to go to Europe. While in England, I talked her into buying the Triumph. I told her we could buy it cheap in England, drive it around Europe, then sell it in the States for the same price we originally paid for it.
"Well, we got back to the States and never did sell the car. Instead, I have steadily built it into a racing car, bit by bit. Last December, I decided to go all the way and convert it into a pure competition machine."
By summer the four novice drivers will probably be hot on the regional racing trail, journeying to courses as near as Lake Garnett and as far away as Texas on their quest for the checkered flag.
Next year the program calls for a national racing license.
Buck Entriken raises a cloud of dust at the Kansas Region SCCA driver's school as he skirts the edge of the track on his way to corner six.
---
Race workers' day is fun-sometimes
On the first go-round Saturday little happened to keep the crews busy.
Most of the drivers, still not really sure about what they were doing and afraid they would hit someone-or that someone would hit them-motored through the corners rather slowly.
By ROBERT ENTRIKEN JR.
Kansan Edition Editor
Occasionally someone spun out. A safetyman would push him off the course, wait until the pack had gone by and signal him back on.
Sunday was misery. The wind, whipping in from the north, brought with it a day-long rain. Only the sedan drivers were remotely comfortable Sunday.
Saturday at the driver's school put on by Kansas Region of the Sports Car Club of America (SCCA) was rather nice. A cool wind blew across the Old Salina Airport course and there was sun most of the day. Corner crews were able to pass the time between spinouts and off-course excursions by cracking jokes at the expense of the drivers trying the racing game for the first time.
Working corners at a race can be a ball—if the weather's nice. When it isn't it can be one of the most miserable jobs in the world.
Occasionally other things attract the corner crews' attention.
The phone talker presses the button on his phone: "Central, corner one—Go ahead one—Car 47, crimson Alpine, is dragging something and also spilling gas on the turn—Thank you, one; chief steward, this is central—Chief steward—Did you catch that transmission from corner one?—Right; meatball him and inform his pits—Will do; Corner four—This is corner four—Meatball car 47, crimson Alpine—Four acknowledge."
Sunday in the rain was a different driving challenge to the students. For the corner workers it was a challenge to see how long they could hold out against the elements. Loudly grumbling about the weather, yet quietly admitting the rain driving experience would be invaluable to the students, they took their posts.
Dressed in everything from war surplus army ponchos to plastic bags, their feet soaking wet from standing in the quagmire the infield had become and their joints stiff from the cold, they grimly watched equally uncomfortable open car drivers zip around the course sending up rooster tails of spray from their wheels.