Imperial Valley press., 1933-05-29
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Rv HENRY McLEMORE

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United Press Staff Correspondent
INDIANAPOLIS, Ind, May o.
With the same eager anticipation
with which a fellow must start a
trip to the gallows, we stepped in
to the little mechanic IS seat OF
Ernie Triplett's Miller special. It
was a narrow squeeze, for the seat
was built for Spider Matlock, who
doesn It boast of broadness of beam.
"Save your praying for the first
turn Spider said. That S when
you II need it most"
"Don't let him kid vou.'' Ernie
said, as we rolled onto the bricks
of the track. "Once we get above
hundred this job rides like a
Pullman. Just remember one thing
In case anything goes wrong, get
into the cellar and get In there
quick. - The cellar is the open
space down under the cowl where
the brakes and clutch make their
home.
"You know, 1t S a funny thing -
Spider explained as we waited there
at the top of the straightaway for
the motor to warm, whenever a
driver gets thrown out, he leaves a
shoe. Sometimes the left shoe,
sometimes the right one. See that
wall yonder? Well, the fellow who
went through there yesterday left
his right shoe. Funny ain It it?n
At that moment somebody down
in front of the timing pagoda gave
wave and Ernie gave the gun to
the little scarlet car, with the big
"f6o on the hood.
From that time on hell broke
loose. if you II allow us to be a
realiSt for just moment. Above
the roar of the motor and the
whine of the wind, Ernie shouted:
1--WE re coming into a turn in a
second. Don't let it worry you.
1t III feel like it IS going out from
under you, but it won IT,
Then we slammed into the turn
and during the split second we
hung on the bank our whole life
passed before us.
The turn was just one long. blis-
tering skid. The back end OF the
car, as Ernie predicted, left us en-
tirely. The bricks of the bank were
a red blur, smack in our face, and
the acrid fumes of burning benzine
burned our nostrils. The silver ex-
haust pipe by cur side spat out
flames yellow and green. and the
tires screamed in misery as they
bit into the bricks.
Then the little car Strengthened
out and we headed down the
straightaway-the glorious straight
away. Then another turn that
wrenched your heart out, and then
another whamming burst down the
open road.
Five Trips Made
Five trips around and we were
able to keep our eyes open on the
curves. We watched Ernie as we
rolled into one. Before we started
some one had told us that Triplett,
more than any of the others, raced
for the joy of it alone - that If
they took away the $4,000 prize
on Tuesday and announced the
winner of the classic 500 would get
a ham sandwich, that Triplett
would be in there shooting for a
record
After we watched him on curve.
We knew it. Even in that ghastly
moment when the car whipped in
to a broad skid, his face was split
by a big grin and the eyes that
watched the road Sparkled with the
Joy of the business.
AT last We pulled up and rolled
to a stop in front Of the timing
tower. Oddie Porter, chief timer
for the track, called down. "SiX
laps at an average Of 1l7.80 miles
an hour. Get that crate off before
somebody runs over you.'
The Spider walked out.
"I watched on that first turn
and your eyes popped out so far
it IS a wonder you didn It break your
goggles. If you think that was a
tough ride try it on Tuesday when
there II be traffic on the turns