As the countdown continues to 96 cars in the Auto World Ultra-G numbered sports car fleet, the second of the final four builds has arrived. This one started off with a somewhat amusing misfire which explains why it took me quite a bit longer to build this car than I had planned!
The 1st white Chaparral arrived so perfect it would have been a crime to turn it into an Ultra-G!
In my latest installment of Road Crew Expansion, I mentioned I had added a couple of really nice examples of the original Aurora Chaparral 2A to that collection. This is a model I never cared for much because I’ve always thought it’s a poor representation of the real car, and therefore up until just recently, I only ever owned one of them, which also happened to be a cigar box free-wheeler conversion. After adding the turquoise and red one to the Road crew, I looked at the colors available and decided I wanted a white one for the sports car fleet; white was, after all, the color that all Chaparrals originally wore on the track back in the day! So I found one at one of the usual sites and ordered it. The problem was, when it arrived: it was an absolutely pristine virginal original in mint condition that looked like it had never even been put on a track! It was mounted on a period-correct closed rivet chassis with all the copper bright and shiny. The moment I saw it, I knew that this was a collector’s piece.
Now, when I started in this hobby, it wouldn’t have bothered me a bit to turn this into a member of the ultra G racing fleet, but not anymore: so I really had no choice but to add this one to The Road Crew as well, where I now have a colorful trio of Chaparral 2A’s! And having done that, I then had to go back to the web and hunt for another one!
S0 now #5 is another member of the Road Crew!
This time I was determined to get one of a caliber that I would have no compunction about converting to an Ultra-G, and since this particular car is very commonly found with the driver’s head missing, I knew I was just going to have to contend with that, so I decided to buy the cheapest one I could find that was still mostly intact and mounted on an original chassis. I found what I wanted soon enough, and when it arrived, I knew I bought the perfect car for my next conversion.
The next purchase was much rougher-and a much better candidate for induction into the Ultra-G fleet!
Recall my discussion about vintage decals on these old Auroras, and how I often tend to leave those on the cars when I find them. I don’t always – each case is a little different – but in this case some of the original Aurora decals on this battered car gave it that beat up patina that made it look like an original, real, “lived-in” 1960s racer; a car that has seen a lot of track duty and was covered with burned-in grit and grime: a battle-hardened warrior.
There was one decal that I couldn’t keep: the Porsche logo on the back, which, although it looked kind of cool, was obviously wrong, and there were a couple of others that were already flaked off badly enough that I just scraped the remnants off, but some of the others, including the Autolite and Gulf logos on the front and the amusing Cherry Bomb logo on the back, had a cool enough vintage vibe that I decided to leave them. I may change my mind about this in the future, and I can always scrape them off later if I choose, but for now they’re going to stay, as is the car’s factory-sprayed racing number. It’s a duplicate, of course; the existing #3 belongs to the black Lola GT named “Shotgun,” but as long as it’s in a different racing group than that one, it will pass muster.
Of course, I had to replace the driver’s head, so again I went into my parts stash and picked the second to last of my two-piece drivers that I bought several years ago (I don’t remember where I got these and I haven’t been able to find any like them recently, so this may be just about the last chance I have to replace a severed head unless more show up somewhere), but it worked OK: the peg of the neck fit into the headless body just fine, and with a little bit of glue and a touch of paint on the top, he now looks a lot like he did when Aurora put him there almost 60 years ago.
No modifications were needed to the body on this one: all I had to do was deepen the notch at the back of the Auto World chassis just a little to get it mounted. For wheels, I went with my last set of Vincent “Steels” in red, which I thought complimented the red interior of the car nicely. He got a set of low profile Vincent tires on the rear with full size Road Race Replicas tires on the front: that’s an odd combination and I have not often used, but it looked right on this car, with the right combination of clearance and wheel well fill. As planned for all of these four final builds, the chassis is brand new and therefore is a fierce performer. It’s extremely fast and looks like it’s going to grip and corner very well.
Jetstream is a 1965 Chaparral 2A—a Texas-built experimental racer born from aerospace obsession and outlaw ingenuity. Designed by Jim Hall and his engineers at Rattlesnake Raceway, the 2A featured an aluminum semi-monocoque chassis with bonded fiberglass panels, a rear-mounted Chevrolet 327 small-block V8 producing over 450 horsepower, and a bespoke GM-sourced automatic transmission modified for road racing. Independent suspension on all four corners and inboard disc brakes gave the car razor-sharp handling, while its wide track and low profile make it a weapon on the long fast straightaways at Drag City. Behind the wheel is Tennessee-born David “Delta” Dorn, a former Air Force fighter pilot whose background in high-speed precision flight bleeds into his driving style: smooth, silent, and deadly. He doesn’t talk much in the paddock—but when Jetstream howls down the straight, people stop and stare.
I could’ve done more cleanup on the body than I did before finishing it. I did clean it up a little, but I intentionally left some of the grime on it along with the tattered decals to keep that “brawler” look. We all know that often the toughest car is on a racing track is not the prettiest. “Delta” Dorn and Jetstream clearly mean business: their competitors are advised to take notice.
Well looky here race fans, I’m finally going to get back to basics and drop you a Modelo En Bofus post! These are fun to write, even if this one does focus on a marque that hasn’t always been one of your humble blogger’s favorites. And why is that? It’s not because of any shortcoming on the part of Lamborghini and the cars they’ve built. It’s my own way of looking at the world that never fails to feel some discomfort with a super car brand that has no racing heritage. Again, that’s not Ferruccio’s fault: he set out from the beginning to build high-performance road-legal grand touring cars, not racing cars, and he never pretended otherwise. Its just that when I look at my favorite high-performance European brands (Alfa Romeo, Ferrari, Mercedes-Benz), all of them have racing in their DNA going back to their earliest days.
The 1966 400GT: not exactly “pretty” but still very cool. Why have we never gotten a 1:64 of this Lambo?
Even so, there’s no denying the “Lambo’s” place both in history and in the hearts of gearheads the world over, and there’s a lot to be said for the engineering and styling of the company’s early days. Moreover, while some of Lamborghini’s earlier cars have been tragically neglected by toymakers, there are other models of that have just about been “die-casted” to death, so what sense would it make to do a blog about 1:64 slotties and die-cast cars without a homage to the raging bull?
There are cars that are “famous,” and then there are cars that function like a before-and-after line in history. The Lamborghini Miura is both of those. It doesn’t just look fast — it looks like it’s inventing speed while standing still. Low. Wide. Predatory. A nose like a shark and hips like a sculpture from the future.
And if you grew up the way I did in the pre-digital age — absorbing the car world through posters, magazines, VHS grain, and whatever die-cast you could get your hands on — the Miura becomes less of a vehicle and more of a mythological object: the moment Lamborghini stopped being “that new Italian company with a V12” and became Lamborghini.
So welcome to the long-awaited installment 4 of Modelo En Bofus: same car, many tiny versions — diecasts and slotties in the 1:64-ish universe — and then we zoom back out and appreciate the real machine that started the obsession.
First, a quick disclaimer for the pedants (I love you people)
Somebody always wants to fight about “firsts,” and honestly, I get it. I’m one of those people too.
Matra-Bonnet Djet…an interesting and historically important car that is little-known today
The Miura is widely credited as the world’s first mid-engine production supercar—even if a few earlier mid-engine road cars (often low-volume or more “sports car” than “supercar”) technically got there first. Earlier mid-engine road cars include the René Bonnet/Matra Djet (often cited as the first production mid-engine car), or ultra-low-volume exotics like the ATS 2500 GT and the DeTomaso Vallelunga. The Porsche 904 is the stand-out: a street-legal mid-engine GT built largely for homologation—a spectacular car with a heritage that runs with the best of them at Drag City Raceway, but it lives in a different category than the Miura poster-car fantasy.
If you want to add a qualifier that keeps you safe from the “well actually” crowd, make it: “often credited as” the world’s first mid-engine production supercar. That one phrase is like undercoating: it prevents rust.
The real Miura: why it hit like a meteor
The rolling chassis display at the Geneva Motor Show in 1966 showcases design brilliance that is impressive even by today’s standards!
Lamborghini’s own history page lays out the core facts cleanly: the Miura made its public debut in 1966, shown at Geneva in March 1966, and it was Lamborghini’s first mid-engine road car — a transversely mounted V12 tucked behind the cockpit to keep the wheelbase short.
From there, the story is basically a three-act play:
Miura P400 (1966–1968): 265 built
Miura P400 S (1969–1971): 338 built
Miura SV (1971–1973): 150 delivered
And the nerdy part I love: Lamborghini even documents the power climb across the versions — roughly 350 CV (P400) → 370 CV (P400 S) → 385 CV (SV).
So yes: it’s gorgeous, but it’s also serious engineering — including that famous early layout where the engine and gearbox were integrated in a way that made packaging possible but created its own headaches.
In Miniature: the 1:64 Miura rabbit hole
This is the part where I admit something: I went looking for the Holy Grail — a single, clean, comprehensive photographic roll of every 1:64 Miura ever made, in one place. Instead, I did what all of us eventually do: I got lost in the abandoned shopping mall of the old internet — forums, dead images, broken hosting, Photobucket ghosts, and half-finished threads.
Early PlayArt in mint condition
So rather than pretend this is every Miura, I’m going to do it the honest way:
Here are the key Miuras that matter most in 1:64-land, with a few side-quests worth mentioning if you’re building a true “Miura shelf.”
1) Lesney Matchbox: As usual, the 1st and best
This another of my all-time favorites in the “bread-N-butter” of my toy-car life, the Lesney-era Matchboxes. I’ve loved it since I was a child and have collected quite a few of them including some scarce variations, although there are several even more rare ones that I’m still after! As with so many of the “transitional” cars from 1969/70, there are all kinds of mixed and matched varieties as the company x-itioned from “regular” to Superfast wheels. My favorite, however, is the first: the bright yellow one with red interior, as it seems closest to the way I would want my own Miura to look if I owned a real one! These colors carried over to the early SF issue but there’s a rare crossover version with the gold body on the regular wheel chassis that I WILL have some day!
The detail is awesome, especially the Weber carb throats seen through the back window; that’s a feature that was lost when the SF x-ition happened, partially to make room for the plastic brace for the axles but also, I’m sure, as a cost-cutting measure: the back window was “frosted” on these later models to conceal the lack of engine. The rest of it is fantastic: the proportions, the the opening doors with detailed door panels to the large English license plate to the “eyelashes” around the headlamps.
An array from my sprawling collection: the HTF 1st Superfast issue in the same colors as the original regular wheel model at the fore, the medium gold version with ivory interior at the aft; the copper-colored copy with the red interior in the center is a rare one!
1B) Matchbox Redux: Let’s Do It Again!
The modern interpretation loses all metal construction and opening doors, but it ain’t bad!
Matchbox has serious Miura energy in its DNA. There’s the classic era, and then there’s the modern casting — the one a lot of us have actually handled recently — the 2016 Lamborghini Miura P400SV design that shows up in later assortments and reviews. Matchbox Miuras tend to feel like they’re trying to be cars first, toys second — they sit “right” in a diorama, and the proportions read correctly on both the original and the modern interpretation.
2) Hot Wheels: from “toyetic” to “RLC museum piece”
Hot Wheels is where the Miura becomes a personality test. Some Hot Wheels versions lean exaggerated and aggressive, some go cleaner, and then there’s the top-shelf collector lane: the RLC Exclusive ’71 Lamborghini Miura P400 SV that Mattel sold through Mattel Creations.
Even if you don’t collect RLC, it’s worth mentioning in a Miura post because it shows what happens when Mattel decides to treat the Miura like a crown jewel instead of “another exotica casting.”
(Also: if you’ve read my other posts, you already know I have feelings about the price ladder and the way “collecting” gets hijacked by the investment culture vibe. But the spectraflame lime green SV with correct wheels makes it hard to stay mad.)
3) Tomica Limited Vintage: the “tiny 1:64 museum” approach
If you want Miura minis that feel like somebody cared in a sacred, slightly obsessive way, Tomica Limited Vintage is a deep well. TLV has produced Miuras across the line’s history, and you can find them cataloged and sold as dedicated releases (Miura S, SV, etc.).
These are usually the versions you buy when you want the Miura to look like a real car that shrank in the wash.
4) Kyosho 1:64: sleeper-class Miura goodness
Kyosho has also put out 1:64 Miura models — the kind you’ll see pop up from collectors and sellers because they’re “just premium enough” without turning into a bank loan.
Kyosho 1:64 is often the sweet spot where you still feel like you’re collecting models rather than accessories for a plastic display case. I have yet to acquire one of these because I know it will be too small for the diorama, but it is “scale correct” and it is a beautiful model. It’s been made in @ least 6 colors, and being unable to pick one is the main thing that’s kept me from closing the deal!
5) Yatming, PlayArt, and other “vintage-ish 1:64-ish” Miuras
Yat Ming belongs in this post because it represents a whole category: the old-school, sometimes slightly-off-scale, sometimes charmingly clunky Miuras that many of us ran into before “premium 1:64” became a mainstream concept.
This is also where the “made in a thousand variations” brands sometimes show up — not always perfectly scaled, not always perfectly accurate, but absolutely part of the historical ecosystem of the hobby.
The original Yatming Jota with opening doors wasn’t a bad model aside from the oversized headlamp orbs: I’m actually looking for this early solid red version for my “GetBacks” project! Later, however, Yatming became “Crapming” and gave us dreck like the orange cheapie above. Today, the budget Maisto “Adventure Force” line you can buy at Walmart includes a not-too-badly proportioned classic Miura.
The slotties: Miura in HO scale (a.k.a. “1:64-ish” with electricity)
Here’s the part that hurts: Aurora didn’t give us a Miura. Tragic. Un-American. Possibly unconstitutional.
But there was a Miura slot car floating around the HO universe via Tyco Pro — the kind of thing you’ll see surface through listings and collector circles. Made in the right colors: orange-red, lemon yellow, lime green, all with a matte black rear window and deck: exactly what you would want. It’s expensive, but probably worth it.
And that’s really the magic of doing a Miura post from an HO slot car guy’s perspective: the Miura isn’t just “another exotica.” It’s a reminder of the alternate timeline where we missed a full suite of mid-engine European monsters in the golden era of HO. Instead, we got Corvettes and Camaros and a lot of happy little Mustangs.(Which is great. But still…)
1:32 scale AutoArt #13111
Outside the scope of this blog due to scale but worth mentioning anyway because its so beautiful: there is a 1:32 scale slotty made in limited numbers by a company called “AutoArt.” I know nothing about these, but it appears they were designed primarily with the Scalextric/Carrera enthusiast in mind. Not my world, but it sure is purty!
What the Miura did to the world
The Miura didn’t just popularize a layout. It changed what people expected a performance car to look like.
The Miura’s center instrument cluster design would be imitated to great affect by Chevrolet for the C3 Corvette in 1968
Lamborghini’s own writeup even notes that the Miura was the first car that the media termed a “Supercar,” and that’s really the heart of it: the Miura wasn’t merely fast — it was categorical. A new kind of object. It also became pop-culture gasoline — famously showing up in film, including The Italian Job (1969), cementing the Miura’s “this is what cool looks like” status for generations of people who weren’t even born yet.
And if you’re building a diorama the way I am — that mid-1980s inland SoCal dream where the past is still breathing — the Miura fits perfectly. Not because it’s modern, but because it’s timelessly dangerous. The kind of car that turns heads, starts arguments, and makes people forget what they were talking about mid-sentence.
For a rare expensive supercar, we got a lot of ways to interact with the legend as kids!
The Miura is one of those cars where even the bad miniatures are still interesting, because they show how different eras “saw” the car.
…A vintage diecast might miss the proportions but nail the vibe. …A modern premium piece might nail every vent and crease but lose some of that toy-soul. …A slot car version might be inaccurate in detail, but it gives the Miura what it always wanted: motion.
Tyco Pro Miura – the only slotty in HO scale
So no — I didn’t find the single master gallery of every 1:64 Miura ever made (which really means I’ll have to just make my own). But I did what this hobby always forces you to do: I followed the breadcrumbs, grabbed the best examples, and built a little Miura museum the way we all do it now — one find at a time.
Your HB in the flesh: You always come back to the basics!
“Health and knowledge and wealth and power Passion and poems and sex I wear a smile like a leather glove Won’t shut my mouth for less
Belts and buckles and zips and chains My sign, my style, my dress My heart was made to steal It’s heaven, more or less”
~ Shriekback
For this weekday post I’m going to stray far afield from our usual topics here @ thunderjetheaven.com and for the first-and likely the last-time ever, I’m going to expound on a topic never touched upon here before: clothing! Sounds strange for a blog about slot cars? Well, I’m strange! This will be a brief detour folks, bear with me…
There are two kinds of people in this world:
People who “grow out of things.”
People like me, who simply refine their tastes until they look respectable.
Now, I’m not really into“fashion.” Like, at all. I don’t care about “outfits.” I don’t care about “seasonal looks.” I don’t care what the current trend forecast is. For the most part, clothing is just a thing I wear to stay warm or to avoid arrest. And yet, there is one clothing experience that never ceases to satisfy me: the experience of getting a fresh pair of Converse Chuck Taylor All Stars! Opening the box, catching that strong waft of fresh industrial rubber that immediately takes me back to being 12 years old again, then lacing them up for the first time. Its taken on the feel of a ritual, one that gives me immense comfort and always brings a smile to my face. I just took delivery of my newest pair of Chucks in a recent color I’ve never owned, a green tinted gray called “True Nature.”
The latest, fresh outta the box!
This isn’t fashion in the commonly understood sense: Converse Chucks are different, because Converse isn’t selling shoes; Converse is selling heritage; they’re selling history; they’re selling attitude. And also, they’re selling variants. And if you’ve ever collected anything — slot cars, die-cast cars, records, baseball cards, action figures, whatever — you already know exactly what happens next:
“I already have that casting… but I’ve never seen it in THAT color before.”
That’s the Converse hook. That’s the moment my collector brain sits bolt upright and starts muttering: “Okay but… what if this one is the best shade of gray-green ever invented?”
I’m variable on work boots, but when it comes to sneakers, I only know 2 brands: Vans and Converse!
It’s embarrassing how effective it is! I’ve bought colors I didn’t need. I’ve chased weird seasonal releases. I’ve talked myself into purchasing shoes the way a Hot Wheels guy talks himself into buying his 17th copy of the same car because “this one’s got a different tamposet.”
Yes. I know. This is not the behavior of a stable adult, right? Well, give me credit where it’s due: I never claimed to be a “stable adult!”
The Chuck Taylor Brain: Variant Collecting in Shoe Form
A box from 30 years ago, from a factory outlet store in CA: this is what a new pair of Chucks used to cost!
I have been wearing Converse All Stars for so long that I don’t even remember what it felt like to not be wearing them. They’re not a “style choice” anymore — they’re an extension of my nervous system. They’re the default. The baseline. The control sample. If I’m wearing anything else, it’s because I had to, and frankly I’m probably irritated about it.
I’ve worn them in every era of my life, across every version of myself: the pre-teen version, the teenage version, the nerd version, the punk version, the broke version, the overconfident version, the “I’m gonna be mysterious today” version, the “I’m gonna pretend I’m responsible” version… and now the aging adult version, the one who writes this blog, who still has the same core truth humming under the hood:
I am never giving them up. Not now. Not later. Not ever.
Driven into the ground! Stripped of laces for scrapping, this particular pair of black Chucks is finally done after nearly 20 years of service.
SURVIVORS: I preserved this cool pair of “classics” that I got in 1989 when I was a senior in high school. I wish they’d make these again!
There’s a level of gratification in that kind of loyalty that feels almost religious. The world changes. Trends mutate. Everyone around you starts dressing like they’re either auditioning for a tech conference or modeling for a “clean minimalist lifestyle” brand that sells $86 soap. But the Chucks stay. And I stay with them. Because I’m a complicated man with simple taste. And if you want to understand my “arrested development complex,” you can do it by looking directly at my feet!
Back In My Day, Your Sneakers Had the Courage of Their Colors
Yep, had that color back in the diz-zay!
When I was a teenager in the mid-80s, I had some truly deranged pairs:
bright turquoise, purple, orange, yellow
At least 4 different shades of red
metallic blue
…and these absolutely ridiculous metallic multi-colored striped ones that I’m sure I thought were the coolest thing ever at the time.
Would I wear those now? Probably not. But I respect the spirit of it. Because back then, color wasn’t a marketing mood board — it was just… a color.
Charcoal: a stand-by “daily driver” color, still new and boxed (but not for much longer!)
Another “seasonal special” – Don’t even remember what they called these, but they came with the matching laces
Anymore I prefer subtle, more muted shades. Gray, in all its variations; browns and tans; subdued greens and blues. That’s not to say I’ve totally turned my back on the more “vibrant” hues! One of my more recent buys was a shade called “Snorkel Blue” which is about vibrant enough to hurt your eyes! And in the past I’ve had some limited and “seasonal” shades with some great monikers attached to them, with “Jester Red,” “Oil Green” and “Road Trip Blue” being some of the more memorable ones from the last decade or so! And then, of course, there is the most important “base” color, the one I can never be without: Basic Black! The black Converse high-top is, to use a trite phrase, as American as apple-pie: it’s a symbol of rebellion, a statement of personality, the one article of clothing that, more than any other, communicates something subtle but important to the world about who you are. Hey, you always go back to the basics!
And for those more “festive” occasions there are the more vibrant colors like “Snorkel Blue!”
And that brings me to the thing that has been irritating me more and more:
Converse color names have gotten… soft. Weirdly soft. Not “soft” like cozy. Soft like limp-wristed. Soft like “I just got back from my morning affirmation walk.” The names they’re giving colors today sound like the names of scented candles or essential oils. “Unearthed?” “Darkly Jaded?” “Very Peri?” “New Found Bloom??” Are you kidding me?? I’m sorry, but if the color is basically an industrial-looking gray-green, then don’t tell me the name is “True Nature.” True nature of what? A throw pillow?
You know what this color actually looks like?
It looks like industrial concrete after a rainstorm. It looks like a foggy service road at 6:45AM. It looks like the side of an airfield hangar. It looks like the kind of paint they used on machinery in the 1950s when nobody cared about “branding” and everything was built to survive a war.
That’s not “True Nature.” That’s Industrial Fog.
And if Converse isn’t bold enough to say it, I will.
Hey Converse: Let Me Rename Your Colors Like You Have a Spine!
L-R: Dead Boys, Sex Pistols, Ramones – I doubt any of these guys were looking for sneakers in colors with names like “Midnight Barque.”
So here’s my humble proposal: Converse should stop naming colors like they’re selling yoga mats. If your color is gray-green, here are names that actually belong on a sneaker worn by someone who uses tools to earn a living and listens to loud music:
Back in the good ol’ MADE IN USA days, your size was printed in the recess of the sole; this was eliminated and moved to the label inside the tongue after “globalization” enabled the move to Asian manufacturing.
Industrial Fog
Concrete Camo
Deserted Overpass
Machine Shop Smoke
Hangar Haze
Worn Primer
Airfield Ash
Cold Rebar
Service Road Gray
Tell me those don’t instantly sound cooler. Tell me those don’t sound like the title of a lost 1981 post-punk single. Tell me those don’t sound like the paint code on a ’55 Chevy 2-door sedan with a 2-inch top chop that looks stock until you do a double take and realize something about this one is different.
Because that’s what these subtle colors are, at their best: micro-modifications you feel more than you see.The kind of detail that makes someone glance twice and think: “Damn. That one looks good.”
A day at the track
Your Humble Blogger’s Confession
I’ve always loved All Stars. I’ll always love All Stars. And no, I’m not “aging out of them.” That’s not how it works, not with me. Some people get older and start dressing like their personality has been sanded down for maximum market compatibility.
I’m going the other direction. I’m staying exactly who I am — just with more money, better restraint, and a few more gray-green “industrial fog” colorways in the rotation.
A variation on the theme was the “One Star DX” high top; these had soles and toe caps identical to All Stars but a different canvas upper with no metal islets and a single white star instead of the iconic ankle patch. These were made only in black, and were exclusive to Target stores between roughly 2008 and 2012. They’re long gone now. Fortunately, I have a few pairs!
Now, Bring It On Home!
“Industrial Fog:” evening in pit row
And truth be told, this whole “Chuck Taylor forever” thing has always belonged to Drag City anyway. It’s baked into the dust out there, into the hard-packed dirt of the paddock and the scorched asphalt that loops around Wardglenn like a bad habit you can’t quit. The track has its own uniform — not the kind you buy on purpose, but the kind you evolve into: sun-faded shirts, cuffed Levi’s, greasy hands, old tattoos, and sneakers that have been through it. In that world, you don’t wear Chucks because you’re trying to look cool. You wear Chucks because this is who you are, and because every time your foot hits the ground you’re grounding yourself back into a version of America that still made sense: cheap gas, loud engines, and a little rebellious danger that didn’t need to be posted online to be real.
With my trusty pal Jason and his Land Rover off the service road at the side of the track
And that’s why “True Nature” is the wrong name. Out there at the track, the real name for that gray-green isn’t something delicate. It’s the color of a morning haze hanging over Bear Valley Road, the color of a steel gantry and tired concrete barriers, the color of shop air and old paint and the shadows under the grandstands when the sun finally drops behind the hills. It’s the shade of a place that’s half machinery and half memory; a place where everything important is slightly worn-in, slightly scuffed, but still standing — still ready to run another lap, still ready to light another cigarette, still ready to laugh at anyone who mistakes “clean” for “better.”
So no — I’m not giving them up. I’m not “moving on” from this particular piece of arrested development, because it isn’t arrested at all. It’s anchored. It’s the same reason I keep building the track, keep chasing the variants, keep photographing tiny cars like they’re holy artifacts: because the mythology matters. Drag City isn’t just a place where cars race — it’s a place where time gets weird and the past stays reachable, and having the right shoes on your feet helps you get there! If anyone wants to call that “arrested development”…then cuff me. I’m guilty!!
Yep, clothing is just something I wear to avoid arrest..sometimes! Your HB in “avatar form” bares the beer gut in the paddock at Drag City Raceway on a warm summer evening – the Chuck Taylors are there even when I go “virtual!” Some things will never change!
I’ve recently come to a consequential decision about my slot car hobby. I’ve decided that the time is fast approaching to wrap up what may be my favorite aspect of it: acquiring, customizing, and building the Auto World Ultra-G racing fleets.
If you look at the case contents shown here of my 2nd case for the numbered sports car racing fleet, you can see that there are four slots remaining to bring this fleet up to my plan for a total of 96 cars. That means there are four more builds to come, and with this post I’m showing you one of them: thus, this post represents the first of four final builds for the Ultra-G’s
As delivered on a corroded, non-running original chassis
Looking over my 3 Ultra-G fleets-Muscle cars, sports cars, and Trans Am cars-and looking at what is available in the world of HO slot bodies, I realized that there were two Aurora bodies that I only had a single copy of in the sports car fleet. The decision to move forward with acquiring these to fill 2 of these 4 slots mirrors the decision that I explained in my last Road Crew Expansion post: a desire to add some cars that I had previously decided I didn’t want. In that post I explained that I had gone looking for some nice examples of the McLaren Elva M1A and the Chaparral 2A. In addition to the nearly flawless blue Elva that I showcased there, there was a turquoise one that landed in my parcel vault that provided the platform for the first of “The Final Four.”
I thought one of my last remaining sets of Road Race Replicas GT wheels in gold would make for a great, “period ‘60s” look, and I daresay I was right! That meant finding a matching number or roundel that had the same gold theme, and I found what I wanted in another old RRR stash. All the numbers are used now, and you know that out of necessity I made peace with duplicates long ago, so #5 it is.
The body was mounted on a brand new virginal Ultra-G chassis that just came out of the package, and in testing it was insanely fast. It has a slight magnet drop for increased traction due to the full-sized RRR tires, a deep OS3 pin, and the best axles a lot of money could buy. In short: this car got the best of everything, as all of these final builds will.
The Real Thang: This is the exact car that Elvis Presley drove in the movie “Spinout” (1966) The “Elvis connection” to this car just makes it all that much cooler!
As for the all-important Lore: under its turquoise fiberglass skin, The Wailer is a 1964 McLaren-Elva M1A—the ultra-lightweight sports racer that marked the beginning of Bruce McLaren’s customer car legacy. Powered by a Chevy 327 small-block V8 making over 420 horsepower in race tune, it sends torque through a Hewland LG-500 4-speed transaxle to an independent rear suspension with outboard disc brakes and a limited-slip diff. At just 1,350 pounds, the car is brutally fast, capable of topping 185 mph depending on gearing. With its magnesium wheels, Weber-fed V8, and ventilated Girling brakes, The Wailer is pure 1960s road-racing aggression—refined only in silhouette. It’s the perfect machine for driver Nick “Night Shift” Nolan, a man who only grudgingly shows up before sundown and prefers night racing to the heat of the day. Nolan was born in the hills of Virginia and grew up an avid hunter, where he honed his eagle-like vision and bristling senses and brought them to into his passion for cars and racing.
The motivation for “The Final Four” has been described throughout my last 5 1/2 years writing this blog: I’m at the point now where I simply have too many cars. My fleets have gotten so large that I can no longer effectively manage them, and since I don’t want to leave large numbers of cars sitting in cases, unused-I want them all on the track where they belong-I believe I’ve reached the limit of what I can effectively race.
Now of course, this is not an absolute statement. It’s very possible that in the near future, AW – or even some other outfit – will introduce some awesome new bodies that I can’t live without that will inspire me to add more cars to my collection and if that happens, I’ll gladly follow my instincts. It’s also the case that the last two cars in the fleet are likely to be filled by some very special bodies, which likely means paying hundreds of dollars for some of the extremely rare handmade German Bauer creations that I’ve been salivating over for years. It remains to be seen exactly what all The Final Four will be, but the years of actively looking for new cars to build are definitely at an end.
In the future, I plan to devote my time and resources in this hobby to collecting the Aurora originals that I want, as well as adding a few aftermarket MEV bodies to The Road Crew. Due to the cost of these pieces, this will proceed slowly, but it will all be documented here, because even as the construction of the racing fleets winds down, there will still be plenty of cool and interesting things happening at Drag City!
It’s been quite a while since your HB dropped by Colorado Diecast, but I made up for the length of my absence with a score worthy of a dedicated blog post. What I did today was rather foolish, but due to my passion for mid 1950s General Motors products, I couldn’t help myself.
Again, I reference my post in which I announced joining the Red Line Club: I included an image in that post that I grabbed off the web: an incredibly beautiful Spectraflame blue and white 1957 Buick Caballero station wagon. This is-bar none-my favorite station wagon in all motoring history! OK, I’ll give you that it’s linemate, the ‘57 Olds Fiesta, is a close second, but the Buick wins-barely-on the tail lamp housings and grille! The caption I put under that picture read “tell me what I have to do to get this one from way back in 2010.”
Well, today I found out what I had to do: the answer was, cough up an absurd amount of money! I’m already having some buyers remorse over this thinking about all of the things that I could have bought with what I spent on this one Hot Wheels car, but this was not an impluse buy; I saw this in one of their many glass cases way back in early December and wanted it then, but I held off due to holiday expenses and told myself that I would buy it early in the new year if, by some chance, it was still there the next time I stopped in. And there it was…waiting for me! So, you see? I had no choice!
And again this brings up the issue of packaging, which I ranted about in my follow-up post about RLC. This is a sealed blister pack, so I cannot open and enjoy it. At some point, I may choose to violate it anyway just because I can’t resist; I mean, could you? Look at how beautiful this thing is, with its wide white walls and opening hood, the roof and the grille cast will all the details of the magnificent real thing. But for now, it stays put in the package as a wall ornament.
And it has some good company! Another recent RLC purchase has just arrived! The now legendary demand for the 2014 RLC club release called the Candy Striper, the spectraflame pink and white 55 Chevy gasser that routinely sells for over $1500 now, must’ve inspired Mattel to release something similar: another spectraflame pink and white ‘55 gasser! This one is more subdued than the Candy Striper, and features the Neoclassic-style redline wheels that I profiled in my post about that collectors line, which are made to look exactly like the original bearing wheels even though in reality, they have a much more conventional construction.
I bought two of these, one for myself and one for Jason, and it was all I could do to give that second one up, but it was the right thing to do, considering what he has done for me over the last couple of weeks…
Fortunately, my 3rd recent RLC purchase did arrive in the kind of packaging that all these cars should come in! This excellent detailed ’81 Toyota SR5 4×4 is also spectraflame blue white just like the Buick but has a radicallly different attitude! This is a beautifully detailed model with separate chrome side mirrors, full suspension, rubber tires, and all metal top to bottom!
My “Hot Wheels Whisperer” has made some great scores recently, including hitting a local Target at exactly the right time and nabbing a nice pile of the most recent Hot Ones series. As the name implies, they’re hot! Stores can’t keep them stocked; the moment they appear, the epay flippers grab them and they’re gone. He even managed to get me the Porsche 917 LH, the second time around for this casting as a Hot One…I still don’t have the last issue of it!
This is all in addition to some fantastic Matchboxes he found recently and picked up for me, including a recent recolor of the Alfa Romeo Dueto Spyder to metallic teal, and a pair of excellent late 60s Fords including everyone’s favorite Mustang!
What is THIS?? Never seen it before but it sure is cool!
The Buick Caballero was not the only thing I picked up @ COD today! Nope, there were some more awesome finds as there always are, including a pair of treasure hunts, one a really awesome model of a car that I have never seen before: the “Chevrolator!” How could I turn that down?? it looks like a C1 Corvette reimagined as a stretched land speed record car. I also picked up another copy of the gold and white Riley and Scott Mk III (also a TH), a black flamed Ferrari 333 SP, and an orange racing version of the Jaguar XJ 220 that I’ve never seen before. For good measure, I threw in their very pleasing casting of the ’58 T-Boid, and rounded it out with a Honda CRX with a red/white/blue racing tampo that I also had never seen until today!
Peeling open some “BL/P’s” @ Jason’s haus
With the exception of the insane purchase I made, it seems to me like Colorado Diecast has moderated their prices somewhat; other than the Buick wagon everything I grabbed today was very reasonably priced, and of course, as always, I had to hit their infamous 50-cent bin, and not only got some cool mainlines for Jason and myself, but also picked up a couple of vintage Lesney-era Matchbox Superfasts, one very rough, but one in excellent condition!
So that’s it for this weekend’s diecast update, but don’t go away: next up, get some bigger news from the track, and a new addition to the numbered Auto World Ultra-G racing fleet; there are some new arrivals headed to Drag City!
