MAGAZINE

HOP UP 2000

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HOP UP 2001

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2001 Cover

RATTLE CAN NATS AND HOP UP DRAGS AT FAMOSO

There we wuz, Man.

Reposin'.

Laid back in the shade, one of the coolest days we'd ever seen in the October Central Valley and they - the HOP UP GUYS - were the ACT. There was about 15-20 definitely cool, real hot rods there, quietly qued up hither and yon and every little while or so, some unknown iron would cruise through, park, introductions would be made, reciprocal tire-kickin' would be done, the guys might stick around all day, just a while, or hook 'em up and blow.

Like a damn open house. Yeah. It will be the Annual Rattle Can Nationals, Hop Up Drags, and Hot Iron Open House at Harris Ranch.

One cool-ass F-1 truck from Phoenix (Mike Latus) left his Buds at the 5-99 split and came another 100 miles or so to see The Rattle Can, before heading back for the drags. Another bitchin F-1 from the Bay Area (Gary Ventemiglia) came by because he'd read about it on the web page and he says it's now on his calendar like Christmas and New Year!

HOT ROD JOE TROPHIED FOR 'BEST BRODIE'

Somehow there were some painted and pressed-out cars present...parked a little away from the crowd, most notably Commander Stroupe whose T, he apparently thought, would qualify due to the Moon discs on it. Hmmmmmmm. He's got the prime beater of all time and he crosses us up by driving the Oakland Roadster Show piece. Is he losin' it? Goin' uppity on us? Lookin' for trophies? An example for Jim: Strength of Character was shown when Chuck Rodgers drove his bitchin old faithful '40 coupe and left his Copshop Coupe at home!

There were pictures and tales of resuscitated old hot rods. Binders of highly collectible magazines. A rusty but precious part here and there. And IRON. It, as always, was about the iron. That iron went on brodie-runs in the dirt lot. That iron went on runs for food, or mail, or any other excuse to light 'em. Hell, there was always one of 'em runnin' somewhere. Ya see, Hop Up Guys run their stuff and they run it whether people are watching or not. And they don't have to tell anybody about it. We'll tell ya for them.

Thursday late afternoon there was this poppin', rappin' sound and Rustman and Angela came screaming down the alley with fishtails blazin' on the '39 Fo-Do.......grand entrance, it was....and then to top it off, the Mild One came down the same pike......just as noisy...little different note....now with Strombergs on his banger Mild Mod.

You cats are the 'Real Deal'; may be kind of trite, but you are.

They are.

And did you know they pretty much all got jobs?

ONE UP

Later that weekend we wuz pretty fairly balls-out on the way home and needed gas around Pasadena. "We'll fill 'er up here an' see if P. is in his driveway, OK?"

"OK."

As we pulled up to the gas station, there was this pain in the ass. Then it began to burn and it got worse - you know, about the spot where the nurse likes to stick the needle? And it got to hurtin' and before we got to the driveway, I reaches up into my pant-leg right where it hurt the worse...and pinched at it (we had been talkin' about black widow spiders about 15 minutes before) and pulls out a stinger! "Hey, Man! I'm gonna have to pull my pants off right here!"

Pulled up to the gas pumps, shut that sucker off, unfolded, jumped out, shook my pant leg and a goddamn BEE falls out!

That dirty little bastard had come through the cowl vent, flew up my pant-leg and

BIT ME ON THE ASS!

That seemed funny to the guy ridin' with me but he didn't say much, just hopin' I wasn't gonna drop trou and show him the scar. I reckon he's told the story a time or two by now, his own damn self.

Next day, we were at the blueblood show we had been hurryin' home for and ran accross P.Wood, who had not been home the day before (he had gone to where we had come from to drive a rail in the 'Cackle Fest'). "Hey Wood! Get a load o' this..." and we tell him the bee story and he laughs and pauses the polite amount of time before sayin',

"In about '80 we were coming back from the Nationals in Tulsa and it was that heat wave that was actually killing people and it was 120 where we were. I was driving (blah-blah's) roadster and had my arm out the window like this, and a bee flew up the arm of my tee shirt and started biting and buzzing around in there and I was pretty anxious to get him outa there!

"I slid off the side of the road, jumped outa the car, started jumping around and writhing on the ground, waivin' my arms all over the place, pulled my tee shirt off and started pounding it on the ground and............

"Chapouris slid off the road behind me, thought I had lost my mind with heat frustration and TACKLED me and tried to calm me down and get some water in to me."

"It's gonna be OK, Pete " he says.

Yeah, maybe for you!

Goes to show you that no matter how good your story is, someone has always got one better.

Side note: considering the era, Big Peter probably thought Little Peter was suffering as much from beer..........as he was from bees!

TV ADS SAY MERCURY INSURANCE IS ALL ABOUT "TRUST"

We think you can trust them to force feed checks on you - checks that you told them not to send, for ‘settlements’ that you, in writing, rejected, so they can ‘total’ the equipment with the DMV, cleaving to the semantics that they ‘issued the check’, and thus, in desperation, in order to keep your equipment useable, you might take the check.

We think you can trust them to not do what DMV suggested: "Write a letter" to unwind a mess, but rather, argue the above semantics to frustrate the victims.

We think Mercury pretends that a Cragar A Roadster with a Cyclone Quickchange, 50 years of racing history and priceless patina, is worth about $8000 ("Nation wide search"). Their adjuster says you can match the patina of the paint by ‘putting stuff in it’ to make it look old (flattener).

We think you can trust them to refuse to dignify the real value of the equipment (Dually, ‘29 roadster, enclosed Competitive Trailer) by pretending that the stuff is common.

We think you should not patronize Mercury Insurance Group for these reasons.

We think their kind of trust is BUNK.

We think we’re being had, and we think.......we’re goin’ to the mat.

HOP UP 2002 - VOLUME III

The third annual looks to us like a natural follow up...what you may have come to expect. We have tapped the insight of our Pals nationwide and with this advantage will be offering another touchstone of what’s happening in the rich lives of cats who know whatsawhat.

Outsiders probably don’t perceive the evolution.

PRIMER CLASSIFIED

Joe Mac Rebuilds Ford Stuff Hell, NO! Nobody wants to work on your V8-era trans. OR the banjo rear-end. I sure wish Joe Mac Clelland was around.................... He is, of course. The trans-master turns them around in about a day and you can find him at: (909) 371-3111, in Corona, Cal.