LeMons: Making Lemonade with Four Wheels

It’s a cliché – when life gives you lemons – make lemonade. In my case, a friend had an '83 Toyota Supra that had seen better days. But rather than take it to junkyard for demolition, this past weekend we took it to the racetrack to participate in the 2009 Goin' For Broken 24 Hours of LeMons race at the Fernley Raceway in Reno, NV.

24 Hours of LeMons, an endurance race for cars worth less than $500, was started by Jay Lamm, in response to the elitist racing industry. “Regular racing had gotten way too expensive and took itself way too seriously, ” Lamm explains in an email to me. “Anyone who thinks racing is going to be their career is probably high, but that's what racing has become by and large.” We won’t mention Lamm’s racing career.

This year there are more than 10 LeMon races scheduled all over the US.

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Our competition.

Whack jobs
Who is crazy enough to put a six point roll cage into a Geo Metro, Bitchin Camaro, Saab 900 or VW Rabbit with a pancake on it’s head? “Serious racers who've had enough of the seriousness and just want to go out and have a good time for a change. Or whack jobs who've always wanted to get on a racetrack but couldn't figure out how to get started,” says Lamm.

My team was definitely of the whack job variety. Let me introduce them: Dominik our fearless leader had the genius idea to take the piece of junk supra to the races. The car was actually his girlfriend Kelly's, and she used to drive it around south pasadena with her two pit bull mixes in the back. It had broken down on her more than once. Dave was our master welder and patiently bended and often rebended the roll cage pieces. Sam was the least crazy of us all and proved to be the best and fastest driver getting only one penalty when he did a 180. You already know me -- I'm hell on four wheels.

I’d never been on a racetrack (unless you consider LA Freeways a racetrack). I had never seen a yellow flag. And although I owned two helmets and scads of motorcycle safety gear, they were worthless in the car. To my credit, I hit triple digits more often than I care to admit and I have successfully completed Stunt Car Driving School. Still I wondered if I had the balls, or in this case, the lemons?

The guys had spent the past month working weekends on the car. You can usually find snap-in rollcages for most race worthy cars. Not for our '83 Supra however. The guys saw this as a challenge (and excuse for tool purchasing) and built a custom roll cage. The final welding required us to remove the windshield, which we did with a sledgehammer, hatchet and iron pipe. We weren’t planning to bring the car home – even if it finished.

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Our team Mad Max wagon.

“It’s like Burning Man with Rollcages.”
The Reno-Fernley raceway is 100 miles south of “The Playa” where the annual Burning Man Festival is held each Labor Day weekend. When we arrive at the paddock, where each team stages their pit, it was like Burning Man meets the races.

There was a group of sexy Elvis' posing around a pink fishtailed Miata; a Lamborghini Testarossa made of plywood; a green Volvo with moss growing on it; competing Spy vs Spy racers – one in white and the other in black, who caused mayhem with each other on and off the racetrack.

We found a place between the Frankenstang, a mustang stitched together with a TV on its roof blasting Frankenstein movie clips and an old truck painted bright orange easily confused with the CALTRANS variety.

I forgot to mention our theme. The supra was spray painted matte black and decked out with sirens, rotating guns and various industrial materials. It was straight out of Mad Max. Our fearless leader, who had an authentic German accent, police suit and fuchsia hair strolled around the paddock with a huge PVC “gun” saying hi to our competition.


The Lemons Meet the Road
Although the race is called 24 Hours of LeMons, racing stops at dusk and resumes the next day. This is a godsend for some race teams as they desperately need time to fix their broken cars. We didn’t know how long the Supra would last, so we scheduled each driver an hour at the beginning of the race. That way, each of us would have a better chance at getting track time before our car went Kaput.

As the cars lined up to enter the track words don’t do justice to the creativity. Over 100 lemons accelerated and one lap later some were back in the paddock. I was the third driver and so far the car was holding up. I suited up in my fireproof suit, squeezed myself into the driver’s seat and snapped the 5-point harness. Gloves, helmet in place and I accelerated to enter the track.

I felt the tactile nubs on the steering wheel. My right foot went from accelerator to brake. My eyes analyzed the track, my brain calculating the curves, the bank; how and where to enter and steer. I didn't notice the pressure from centrifugal force pressing me to the seat as I sped through the curves. I smelled burned oil, brakes and fuel. I heard the rev and pop of engines. I was calm, relaxed and one with the car, the road and the speed.

That’s when I noticed the black flag ferociously waved at me. I had been focusing on the track so much, I had completely forgotten to watch the flags. Black Flag = Penalty Box. My crime: passing on the yellow even though I performed two perfect 180s. I sheepishly pulled off to meet my fate. Two men in black judge robes came up to the driver’s window.

I should explain a little about justice LeMons-style. Just because they have people called judges don't make the mistake of assuming they're fair. These guys are as corrupt as they come -- and they flaunt it. Of course they'll rule your way -- with the right bribes. Past bribes include moonshine, good beer, whiskey and a delightful cheese and wine pairing. I wouldn't bother bringing Coors and cheap porn unless you want extra penalties.

The penalties in a LeMon race can be a bit unusual to say the least. We got hit with the supposedly irritating “playa” penalty, where they made us set up a tent and get everyone from our team in it (see video). Then they threw in a case of water and a boombox with some techno. Since I have experienced the real live Burning Man, this wasn’t that bad. We were expecting the leafblower full of playa dust through the windows at any moment. When one of the team (I won’t say who!) passed on the yellow flag, we got stuck behind the LeMonmobile and had to make “parade laps” around the paddock. I climbed on the hood and we cranked the Industrial music. Later our black mad max mobile got pelted with pink and gold paint.

We heard about dreaded Homie Funeral, where they poured an entire 50 oz of Malt Liquor into the car. One driver had a car alarm installed to go off constantly the rest of the race. I asked Jay about some of his favorite "punishments" and he told me about two classics.

“My personal favorite is still the Al Gore Carbon Neutral Penalty, wherein the smokiest car gets pulled in with a black flag, and then the driver has to plant a tree in the infield while wearing a tie-dye shirt, sandals, and being pelted with tofu. I'm also partial to the Colonel Sanders penalty, which has the driver being covered in Karo syrup and then coated in feathers.”

Whew – I’m glad we didn’t get either of those!


Cursed!
"Rule 1.6: Your Car May Be Destroyed at Any Time: In addition to accidents and other unfortunate boo-boos, one car may be selected by blind ballot of all teams for immediate removal and total destruction."

Here’s one rule you won’t find in any other race. The People’s Curse is the one car all participants join up on to remove and destroy. And by destroy, we’re talking steam shovel destroy. Flattened like a pancake on a bunny’s head. This year there was a twist of fate – instead of a participant’s car being destroyed, it was Lamm’s VW Bus. The same bus that helped met out the parade lap penalties.

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Justice LeMons-style.

At the end of the day, we were amazed that our supra finished the race and although we weren't the fasted car on the track, we brought home the Judges Choice Award.

Lamm’s last words were ,“Racing is for anyone who wants to go racing.”

I went. I raced. I’m hooked.

Ps. Think you have the balls, ahem lemons to race. Read their very entertaining FAQ. SG members are welcome to join me in Buttonwillow (the organizers have given me a limited comp list -- message me if you're interested).


Heathervescent is a writer, technology consultant and agent of
cacophony. She's more worried about the attack squirrels that apparently plague JPL than zombie ants, which she just thinks are plain cool. You can read more of her adventures at www.heathervescent.com and follow her @heathervescent.

web address: http://suicidegirls.com/news/geek/23697/LeMons-Making-Lemonade-with-Four-Wheels/