Sea Lions, Suits And Sears Point

   California, here they come!

   Once again NASCAR's Nextel Cup "tourists" are heading to the San Francisco area for Sunday's Dodge/Save Mart 350 at Infineon Speedway, a road course formerly known as Sears Point Raceway.

   Visiting the beautiful, vibrant "City By The Bay" never could grow to be grindingly routine--as some stops on the schedule have become--but traveling to 'Frisco isn't as exciting for the racing teams as it once was.

   Certainly not as thrilling and filled with great expectations as in June of 1989, when NASCAR took its main show to Sears Point for the first time. 

   Even the tough ol' Intimidator himself, Dale Earnhardt, admitted to being a bit giddy.

   I was pumped up, too, and recall most of that memorable week fondly and well.  Look back with me...

  Seventeen years ago few of the drivers and team owners had planes, so they generally flew commericial airlines like the crewmen and we wretches of the press.

   So practically everyone waiting at a gate at Charlotte's Douglas Airport to board a morning Piedmont Airlines flight to San Francisco early in race week of '89 had a NASCAR connection.  The cast of drivers in the crowd included Geoff Bodine, Ken Schrader, Dave Marcis, Derrike Cope, Alan Kulwicki and both Labontes, Bobby and Terry.

   Finally the man who was to pilot the 727 across The Rockies to Northern California came sauntering down the concourse.  It was none other than Piedmont veteran Loren Edwards of Mooresville, Earnhardt's next-door neighbor on Lake Norman.

   I knew Loren through Earnhardt and approached him.  I told Loren of my interest in geography and history and asked him to point out places and things of interest along the way.

   "You've got it," Loren said with a grin.

   Did I ever, I was to learn shortly.

   I shared a row of seats with my media pal, Steve Waid, and old friend Mike Hill, then a key crewman on the Junior Johnson-owned team fielding Terry Labonte.

   We'd only been airborne a few minutes before the mischievous Loren made an announcement from the cockpit.  "Tom, we're passing over Gastonia," he said with a cackle.

    Names of lots of other towns and rivers and mountains and even creeks and villages were to follow.

    Meanwhile, the flight attendants had begun to serve beverage "refreshments."  Gallons of 'em, it seemed.  A rollicking party was in progress at 35,000 feet.

    Loren continued to be a dutiful tour guide, announcing points of interest.

   A driver's wife approached me.  "Higgins," she ordered, "go up there and get him to shut up!  I'm trying to take a nap!"

   How she planned to sleep with so much laughter and tinkling of glasses going on was lost on me.  Besides, I was rather enjoying Loren's information, following along with a U.S. Atlas I'd brought on board.

   Everyone strained to look out the windows when Edwards advised that we were descending into San Francisco on a path that took us directly over the incredibly beautiful Yosemite National Park.  We oohed and ahhed at the sight of the great waterfalls and the magnificent rock mountain, Half Dome.

   Finally, we touched down in 'Frisco.

   R.J. Reynolds Tobacco was NASCAR's major sponsor in those days through the Winston brand, and RJR executives had planned an important press luncheon at Fisherman's Wharf.  So the drivers and the media headed there.

   The day was bright and cool, and the breeze coming off The Bay invigorating.  The Wharf was alive with color and entertainers, and tourists gawked to watch sea lions sun and fight on the docks below.

   Earnhardt made sure he got a window seat in the restaurant so he could continue to watch the sea lion activity as the press event continued.  Every little bit something would happen that made him burst into laughter.

   Most of the drivers, dressed spiffily, were asked to say a few words.

   All were gracious and expressed appreciation at finally getting to race near a city as great as San Francisco.

   The local media was impressed.

   Said one TV sports anchor on his newscast that evening:  "We were expecting two-fisted drinkers" like from NASCAR's rough and rowdy old days.  "What we got instead is a group of dedicated pros in double-breasted suits."

   However, drivers Bill Elliott and Terry Labonte said it was going to take "the double-fisted, daredevil-like, white-knuckle driving style" of those old days to do well on the 2.52-mile, 11-turn Sears Point course in the hills of the wine country.

    Earnhardt agreed.

   "It's a much tougher track than the old Riverside road course in Southern California or Watkins Glen in New York," he said.  "Someone is going to be off course somewhere around it all the time."

   Added accomplished road racer Rusty Wallace:  "The track is dramtically different than we're used to.  There are a couple hairpin turns.  The shift points are different and you're never wide open for a long period of time.  The places to pass are very different than what we're used to, and the uphill/downhill stretches of the track are extreme."

   Said Davey Allison:  "Racing at Riverside was like driving on a superhighway.  Racing at Watkins Glen is like driving through the country.  Racing at Sears Point is like trying to drive real fast on those twisting one-lane streets in San Francisco."

   Sure enough, several drivers experienced trouble in practice and qualifying.  Both Jimmy Means and Michael Waltrip flipped their cars.   Many others spun or otherwise got off course, including Terry Labonte and Geoff Bodine, among the favorites to win.  Kulwicki had so much repeated trouble in one turn than the speedway's corner workers nicknamed the spot "Kulwicki's Korner," somewhat to the non-amusement of Alan.

    During time trials the top three starting spots went to Wallace, Mark Martin and Elliott.  Not coincidentally, the trio and their teams had gone to the trouble and expense of towing their cars all the way to California from North Carolina and Georgia to test at Sears Point.  Wallace was timed at 90.041 mph, Martin at 90.023, just two-hundredths of a second slower.

   A rash of wrecks continued to be predicted for the 300-kilometer, 187-mile race.

   Said former driver-turned-team owner Buddy Baker: "Fans are going to see a show they won't believe.  I got on top of one of the hills above the track to watch one of the practice sessions and saw four cars scratchin' and diggin' off course in the sand and gravel at one time."

   "They're going to run out of brake pads and paramedics," wrote one pessimistic reporter.

   Tthese prospects, along with it being the NASCAR major league's first-ever visit to that section of the country, led to an assured track record crowd.  A whopping 45,000 tickets were sold in advance.  Sears Point's previous biggest turnout was 36,000 for a Camel GT race in 1986.

   Wallace led the first 10 laps, then Ricky Rudd, an equally accomplished road racer, took control.

   Rudd was to lead all but three of the remaining laps in the 74-lap event.  Midway of the race Rudd had built a lead of 8.75 seconds and many in a throng numbering 53,000 were murmuring that maybe this form of motorsports wasn't so marvelous at Sears Point after all.

   Just when it looked as if Mark Martin might mount a challenge to Rudd, a freak incident victimized him in he pits.  Martin stopped for fuel only, but a substitute tire changer got excited and loosened the lug nuts on the right rear.  As Martin roared back onto the track and started up a hill toward Turn 2 his car spun out of control and turned over in a ditch.  Martin crawled out and sprinted several hundred yards back to his pit to find out what had gone wrong.  The car was uprighted and Martin eventually rejoined the race, finishing a disappointing 30th.

   Shortly after the Martin drama unfolded, a yellow flag enabled Wallace to close in on Rudd and the race was on.

   It became exceedingly exciting during a hectic final four laps, with the two seldom more than a car length apart.  They rubbed sheet metal at least three times.

   On the 71st lap Wallace pulled almost abreast of Rudd in the Turn 7 hairpin, taking an outside line.  Rudd, not about to give up the lead, crowded Wallace into the grass and sped on.

   "I knew Rusty was going to make a run at me at that spot, the turn they call 'The Keyhole,'" said Rudd.  "But I had no idea he'd get up that far.  I gave him that corner coming in, and I took it back coming off.  What does Dale Earnhardt say?  'That's racing.'"

   Wallace had no complaint.

   "I got alongside, but Ricky drove the line it took to win," said Rusty.  "There's nothing wrong with a move like he made.  I probably should have made my move stronger.  When I got off the pavement for that little bit, it let Ricky get away some and from  there I was just trying to hold my line hoping to catch up.  But Ricky had too strong a car and he deserved to win."

   Rudd got the checkered flag 1.1 seconds ahead and the crowd got its money's worth, never mind that for all the predictions of disaster, there were only three cautions for 16 laps.

   "This track tests your road racing skills to the max," said Rudd.  "I enjoyed racing on it, and I think the fans enjoyed seeing us and our big cars race on it.  I can't say enough about the crowd's enthusiasm.

   "I hope we come back and make racing here a tradition."

   Ricky Rudd and Rusty Wallace and several other stars in that inaugural Sears Point race are now retired as drivers.  But, just as Ricky wished, NASCAR appears to have lost its heart to San Francisco and continues to return there about this time every year.