Earthshakers

8/8 to 8/11 (Hot August Nights Post)

Every year, somewhere around the first week of August, a cacophony of sound and lights and colors descends on Reno. One might think that Reno is already filled with such things - being a town abundant with glitzy casinos - but these things are usually tucked away inside buildings, only assaulting your senses when you choose to enter.

But during Hot August Nights, you have no choice but to experience the overwhelming swell of sound and lights and colors as a myriad of classic cars flood the streets. The bright beacons of the casinos dull in comparison to the full spectrum of vibrant colors splashed across the streets and the glitter of thousands of pieces of chrome. At night, the very air vibrates with the rumble of hundreds of cars cruising the strip, each mighty and proud, growling to be heard over the roar of the gathered crowds and to assert dominance over the rest. It's a feeling that gets right inside you, tickling your lungs and demanding the synchronization of your heartbeat to a new beat. During Hot August Nights, Reno is a land dominated by earthshakers.

 

I spent four whirlwind days bouncing around town, soaking up all of the sights and sounds, knowing that my return to the empty road and my solitary classic car was eminent. I won't bore you with all of the details - just enough to give you a sense of the scope and scale of this event.

My days were filled with sightseeing at numerous classic car shows in Reno and Sparks, as well as ogling at swap meets, auctions, and even trailer shows. Every type of classic car you could possibly imagine was represented - even some cars that never existed to begin with, born from the sheer audacity of a hot rodder armed with a welder and a dream. Every condition was in attendance, too: from jury-rigged, barely-held-together beaters pulled out of a field and pressed back into service after decades of rest, to high end, completely custom cars costing hundreds of thousands of dollars and arriving in posh air conditioned trailers. There's something for everyone, here.

Jane attracting attention as usual

Which of these is not like the other? (hint: it's red)

I will never not take a picture of this car - it is my absolute favorite recurring car at Hot August Nights with a paint job to die for.

An outrageous hood scoop meants for capturing large quantities of air, moderately sized birds, small rodents, branches, and lots of stray vegetation to feed to the motor

I laughed, a lot

"Ricky Bobby, you sold the windshield?!"

Two survivors - a Superbird and a Daytona. This photo contains upwards of $500,000 worth of car!

Though they are giant land whales, the Skyliners are some of my favorites 

An ingenious hose hanger... a men's long sock.

The best looking Maverick I've ever seen

What in the redneck hell is this

You can practically smell the interior through the photo

THE most impressive car that I saw at the entire show: A 1964 Pontiac Acadian (a car little-known, and certainly not revered), completely custom-built with a 2500+HP motor. I loved the designwork, I loved the grunt that they gave the car, but most of all I loved that they took something that you would never think to build... and built it.

My nights were filled with the rumbling of big V8s, the flash of chrome in headlights, the scent of race gas and unburned hydrocarbons floating on the cool evening breeze. By day, you can see all of the cars laid bare in the sunlight, really get a sense of the spectrum of cars represented, the colors and shapes and all of the little details. You can pop your head into engine bays and interiors, figure out how they're put together and what makes them tick. That's all well and good, but I have to admit that nighttime is my favorite. I like the way the setting sun illuminates the curves and sharp edges of these cars, giving a suggestion of something beautiful waiting in the twilight just out of view. I like the way the crowds blend back into the background, becoming shadows of secondary importance to the cars. I like how the edges of the world soften even while the harsh, garish lights of the casinos flicker on, running counterpoint to one another. I like the way the cars transform from stationary pieces of art into primal mechanical beasts, moving along the asphalt avenues with immense gravity, each demanding recognition as a force to be reckoned with. The reality of the day is replaced with an ephemeral feeling of art in motion. Nighttime is when Hot August Nights truly comes alive.

I cruised a couple of nights, happy to sit in stop-and-go traffic for hours to get my chance to join the not-so-stately - more raucous - procession under the Reno arch.

Broken down on the main drag - embarrassing!

The world's most unflappable police horses

But most of the time, I sat out in the parking lot in my folding chair with a circle of dear friends that I've been lucky enough to accumulate over the years. It's kind of funny, knowing that I really only see these people once or twice a year but feeling very close to them anyways. But I always look forward to plopping my chair down in the circle, joining them in enjoying each others' company and watching the cars pass by. Most nights there's a concert nearby, so we can catch strains of various bands - including, this year, the Temptations (yes, really) - weaving in through the general uproar.

This is when I love Hot August Nights best. It's wonderful being around a group of friends that really know and share in your passion. But it's even more wonderful, in a way, knowing that you are part of the background, part of what makes this event great. You're surrounded by thousands of "car people" who are doing the same thing as you: hanging out with old friends, meeting new friends, checking out cars, planning new ventures, discussing new ideas. Thousands of voices unified into a low roar, making a mighty effort to squeeze the most enjoyment possible out of every last golden minute.

And yet, all good things must come to an end. Sunday morning rolled around all too soon and my friends - new and old - trickled away, going back to their lives. As always, I lingered til the end, letting the closing events drag me down back to earth. I've found that if I leave when things are in full swing, it's too jarring and puts my head in a weird place. This way, I can let the raw energy drain off a bit before I have to return to my solitary life with Jane on the open road. When everyone else is gone and scattered, it's easier to leave and be happy about it.

My four days of "hot rod heaven" at an end, I was ready to turn my eyes back to seeing more amazing sights of the road. Until then... Kelly signing out.