For some reason I don't have hardly any race results, qualifying heat rosters, notes or much of anything in my folder for 1977. Debbie and I had gotten married in April and went to race in Berlin on our honeymoon. After we got back we moved to Denton, Texas north of Dallas where she got her Master's Degree in nutrition at Texas Women's university.
We only ran 6 races in 1977, including the one in Berlin. Our first race after Berlin was the Western Divisionals at Marine Creek lake near Fort Worth. The "D" was really running good, but I flipped the first heat.
I had the start nailed. I had begun starting on the inside after I rode with Charlie Bailey in F runabout at Alexandria a few years earlier. This time though I found myself in a good spot on the outside with a long run to the clock. Most of the pack was a little early but I was aired out on the far outside. Tom Berry was a little ahead of me to the left and swinging wide. He and I were the only ones back deep and he thought he was the only one back there. He never looked over his right shoulder. I thought for sure he had seen me go back up in there, but it became apparent he figured that he was on the far outside. I was already too committed at the speed I was traveling and couldn't have bent it to the left to keep from hitting him without crashing. I kept hoping he would straighten out, but he kept sliding right. It didn't make sense to me that he was still trying to kill time off the clock, but that's the only reason why I figured he kept drifing out.
I was gingerly trying to go right without flipping. All of this was just a few seconds, but my mind was really racing along. I could see an immenant collision and Tom was totally clueless it was coming. My left sponson went over his right sponson and all it did was push my turning fin up. I got back on the throttle and headed to the start. I could not feel the boat handling funny so I just tried to push the fin down with my left hand. No go. So I kept to the outside to see how it would turn.
I got to the turn with the pack and eased around. SHADOWFAX turned just fine, only it was sliding a little bit sideways. When I got straight I nailed it and caught up to leader Steve Jones on the back straight. He pushed me to the outside and I went way wide, sliding. But, I was beginning to get the hang of it. Steve didn't know what was going on, but he found out I was not trying to duck under him so he kept going wider and wider. I was faster than Steve, but he had me hung out so far on his hip, that I couldn't get around and he continued to be ahead on the first half of the course.
On the far turn lap three, Steve drifted way wide and by now I was learning how to handle SHADWOFAX through the turns. Had we been closely chased by someone else, I would have kept clear, but with just the two of us, I kept pressing to get around. When Steve went so wide on this turn, I thought I could do the same thing I did with Dub Parker at Alexandria in 1973. I started to cross under Steve and cut close to the exit pin.
I slid under past his roostertail just fine, but when the transom hit his wake, it was too far around for normal racing and the wake lifted the rear out of the water which was all that was biting to help me turn. The boat just swapped ends and I found myself going backwards all of a sudden. It swapped so fast that the force threw me over the cowling and I was just hanging on. I don't know exactly how far it was but it seemed like it lasted a long time. Then when the boat slowed down to about 30, the transom caught and flipped over backwards. I caught the bowhandle across my right thigh as I entered the water. It was a stupid move, but I was just thinking about a win.
I guess it was Debbie that took this pic, probably on lap two.
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