Jean Turner | August 7, 2016
Cycle News Cross-Rutted
COLUMN
Land Speed Racing Legend Sam Wheeler Remembered
The recent death of Sam Wheeler, revered land speed racer, innovator and engineer, sent shock waves through the two-wheel land speed racing community. Sam Wheeler, of Arcadia, California, was performing a test run in his streamliner at the Bonneville Salt Flats on Monday, July 25 when the vehicle fishtailed, went airborne and crashed. He was 73 years old.
Jean Turner Interviewing Sam Wheeler after his wreck in 2006 at the Bonneville Salt Flats.
Wheeler was immediately transported to Intermountain Medical Center near Salt Lake City, Utah, and though he was unconscious, his vitals were initially good. He suffered a collapsed lung, cracked ribs and severe head trauma, and he was taken into emergency surgery to relieve bleeding on his brain, but died shortly after.
Wheeler was taking part in Mike Cook’s “Test and Tune” event in anticipation of the upcoming August and September races. Organizer Mike Cook witnessed the crash, and described that Wheeler’s streamliner motorcycle began to slide after it fishtailed, then popped up into the air and came crashing down on the caged section where Wheeler was seated.
His death has devastated the land-speed racing community, who unanimously name Wheeler the most humble and well-liked person in the paddock.
In the Back Page op-ed “Cross-Rutted” in the August 2 issue of Cycle News (Issue 30) contributor Jean Turner remembers Sam Wheeler, who she first met in 2006 while covering the famous 2006 International Motorcycle Speed Trials by BUB for Cycle News.
You can read the original article about the accident HERE and Turner’s column HERE.
You can also read the full column below:
Ten years ago I was a new associate editor at Cycle News, and received my first major assignment: cover the International Motorcycle Speed Trials at the Bonneville Salt Flats. I knew pretty much nothing about land speed racing and had no idea what type of people I would encounter on the salt. But an incredibly friendly community welcomed me from the moment I stepped foot on the salt, where I quickly learned a lot about this exceptional niche. Most notably, I learned it takes a hell of a lot more than a handful of throttle to go fast. It takes keen intelligence, cunning, patience, precision, engineering capability and the tireless tenacity to break through barriers (Oh, and money. Lots of money!). This skillset typically comes from a team, but in Sam Wheeler’s case, all those qualities manifested in one remarkable man.
The two big teams were the Akatiff camp fielding Mike Akatiff’s “ACK Attack” liner, and the Manning camp with Denis Manning’s “Lucky Number 7” liner. While there was evident tension between the two teams, no one had anything but praise for Sam Wheeler, regarded as the “privateer effort” of the two-wheel land-speed racing elite.
“Wait until Sam gets here.” “Sam Wheeler will be a real contender in this.” “Sam is a great guy. His motorcycle is absolutely impeccable!”
I suspected they were just being nice to this guy since they didn’t see him as a real threat. Again, I was completely wrong…
The events of the week played out in remarkable fashion—thanks to the “30 year salt” that set the perfect stage—with the ACK Attack shattering the world record on day one at 342.797 mph. Manning’s team broke it again the next day with a record of 350.884. Next up was Wheeler who had his sights set on 360 mph in his E-Z Hook liner. Sam’s first pass was a mind-blowing 355 mph, but the frenzy quickly quieted with the next radio message: the E-Z Hook liner had gone down.
Much to everyone’s relief, Sam was okay. He blew a front tire and fortunately had the chute out before the liner went on its side and skidded to a stop. The most heartbreaking of all was the fact that Sam could not back up his record-breaking time (you have two hours to complete a return run, and your final score is an average of the two passes). He had the fastest unofficial time of the meet, and arguably the fastest motorcycle in the world, yet he would not make it into the record books. It was the fastest speed Wheeler would ever reach in his E-Z Hook liner.
It seemed so unfair, yet Sam took it all in stride. He had a Coors Light in his hand and a smile on his face by the time the wreckage of his pristine streamliner had been towed back to the pits.
I was fascinated with this quiet, brilliant man that everyone had such praise for. He didn’t have much to say about himself at the event, and wouldn’t volunteer much information about his E-Z Hook effort except to thank everyone who helped him, namely Terry Kizer (aka Mr. Turbo).
Several months later I tracked Sam down at his shop in Arcadia, California to do a follow-up story. I told him I wanted to find out what’s next for him and the “unofficial” fastest motorcycle in the world.
“I wish I knew,” he replied.
He welcomed me to his shop within the E-Z Hook office building where he worked as an engineer for over 20 years. His streamliner lay dormant in a small, windowless room in the corner, as humble and quiet as he was. It still bore the skid marks along the entire right side of the body, and beside it were the shredded remains of the ill-fated front tire. Behind it on a shelf were two crumbling clay models—exact scale replicas of his streamliner.
“This is the one they tested under water,” Wheeler said. “And this one they tested in the wind tunnel.”
“They” was a group of graduate students at nearby Caltech, who were involved with the design of his streamliner. Against the much larger and far more powerful motorcycle streamliners, Sam employed a different tactic. He spent less time on a dyno and more time in a wind tunnel to find his speed. It was working, except that it left him with a limited front-wheel size and subsequently fewer options. It wasn’t as simple as just finding a new front tire, since there were literally no more in existence for his particular application. He had moved on to considering a composite front wheel—an idea that would require a lot of research and development.
Before the front wheel issue, Sam explained they had a problem getting the chute to deploy. For some reason, it wouldn’t come out at speed. They even resorted to installing a shotgun firing mechanism. He finally discovered it was the negative air pressure behind the streamliner preventing the flaps from opening. He solved that problem, and many others to that point, but now needed to figure out a solution to his front tire problem.
“It must be infuriating to have done all that work just to be held back by one wheel,” I remarked.
It was then that Sam said something I never forgot.
“You’re always going to have a limiting factor.”
He said it so matter-of-factly. It’s true about land speed racing, and it’s true about life, and the pursuit of any goal. You always have one limiting factor. You have to find it, solve it, and take the next step. Repeat as needed.
Land speed racing is perpetual problem solving, breaking through limits and reaching uncharted territory. It takes a brilliant, meticulous, patient and passionate mind to do it—a mind like Sam Wheeler’s.
His death is a shocking and tragic loss to the entire land speed racing community, not only because of his remarkable mind, but because of his kind, humble and humorous personality. I’m honored to say I got to raise a few pints with Sam. It was a privilege to know him, even for a short while.
Godspeed, Sam.
