Burning Castor Oil: Gotta Love It.

Jim Croce again. Rapid Roy was a dirt track demon. Ah, the dirt track at Riverhead. Saturday nights in the summer with the roar of highly tuned old engines. The time was the mid 50’s and the stock cars were cut up coups from the thirties and forties with a few early fifties thrown in for good measure. Flat head Vee-eights, straight eights, flat head sixes and OHV sixes. In the unlimited classes some OHV eights. The roar of straight pipes and the smell of castor oil and burning rubber. Occasionally a wheel would break off and come straight into the stands and everybody would duck. Local farmers, welders, mechanics and a few teachers and doctors. Mostly the same cars every week.
Then, Geraldo showed up. Shiny black ’37 coup with an OHV vee-eight. Black driving suit. Black helmet. Rumor was that he was a hair dresser from Queens somewhere. He was a terrific driver with a great car (grumble: probably paid to get his car that good. Not a good old boy like the rest). He raced week after week and year after year. What a thrill to watch him eat the track and the locals. They were all good drivers and sometimes someone beat Geraldo, but not usually.
Fourth of July fireworks. Beer in cups. Smells. Noise. What a treat. Driving home after the races was a thrill too, because it was a race.
I’m going to get some castor oil and burn it on the grill the next time I barbecue. I hope it smells as sweet as I remember. I’ll let you know.
Photo: winfield.50megs.com/Cowley/oldstockcars_4.htm