The salt lake is otherworldly in appearance, stretching flat and white as far as the eye can see, fenced in by Mars-like mountains. I was prepared, but I wasn’t ready for the kind of experience that Speed Week really entailed. I was equipped with a broad straw hat, sunnies, and enough sunscreen to flood a small village. Over 650 entrants, three courses to run on and more spectators than you could poke a stick at. Two years of cancellations due to weather and salt conditions had racers chomping at the bit, but it was back, and bigger than ever. The sun hadn’t even risen the next morning when the procession of salt-crazed pilgrims began spilling out onto the dried-up lakebed in anticipation for something they had been waiting three years for - Speed Week. Intending to sleep in the back of my rental SUV for the trip rather than fork out for the more civilized hotel room, I set up shop down at the Bend In The Road - the imaginative name for the free camping grounds located just before the lake, where the road curves. All I’d ever seen is photos and stories and heard people raving about The Fastest Race Track On Earth or how they’ve got Salt Fever or other things I couldn’t quite yet fathom.Īfter a day’s driving I arrived in Wendover - the closest town to the salt flats. I didn’t quite know what to expect when I hopped in the car at my home in Los Angeles and made the 1,000km-or-so pilgrimage to Bonneville.
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