Start your engines...all kinds and from around the globe. They have so many static display aircraft in perfect restored condition. I would crash the server if I posted all the pics I took here. This was the 50th anniversary for the Reno Air Races. They have many classes that compete over the pylon course. The F1 class is limited to a Continental 200 engine and the planes are so small you don't get in, I think you kinda put 'em on. The bi-plane class is largely populated with Pitts aerobatic stunt planes that are again very small and fast. The T6/SNJ group are WWII trainers with Pratt 985 engines. That's 985 cu in 7 cylinder radial engine making about 450HP.
The long course,43 mile loop sees the unlimited class. They are modified WWII fighters that have all kinds of trick setups. They clip wings, change props and clean up the drag by installing custom canopies and cowls. Every seam is smoothed over and they run them with enough boost to blow the jugs right off. The jet guys run the long course and are made up of Vietnam era light fighter/trainer subsonic aircraft.
Between heats, there is always something in the sky to watch. From the "JetMan" to unpowered aerobatic flights to Patriot Jet Team. Since the Blue Angels and Thunderbirds are grounded someone got the idea to have a private precision aerobatic jet team.

 

The T6 class in action coming into the front pylon.

A Pratt Double Wasp WWII engine with a fresh overhaul, for sale!

Some of the flight line of WWII planes that did a fly-by during the show

 

Climb up to 5000'AGL, shut off engine, perform loops till you run out of air then land perfectly and roll silently up to the announcer and put the prop spinner right in his hand.

Privately owned performance jet team, The Patriots, L-39 jet.

MK9 Spitfire, a favorite of mine.

 

Rarebear has been at Reno for many years.

PreciousMetal with it's counter-rotating props.

A P-51D for the show.

 

A Twincat, little Late for WWII but saw action in early Korean War.

The MK9 Spitfire in a fly-by. The V-12 engines sound sweet.

Pratt & Whitney 5600XBSAP, 7000HP. Last of the big radials before the Jet came along.

 

The Patriots in action.

 

On Friday the 13th I departed Truckee,CA at 7:30 and crossed Nevada on US50,The Loneliest Road. You cross a dozen mountain ranges with miles of strait empty road only finding 3 towns along the way. Plenty of great views, very little traffic but really not that lonely. Matter of fact, there are gentleman out there 30 miles from the nearest town waiting to give you a very special official welcome to their state. The upside was they thought my bike was really cool and just couldn't believe my registration indicating it was a 1994. I offered lunch at the local diner to these appreciators of fine vintage machinery however they declined and sent me on my way with a citation and a reminder to slow down and smell the desert roses.
I made it to Salina, UT that night about 7pm, just before nightfall. And as my hand touched the doorknob of the motel room the telltale dark clouds opened up and washed my bike. Timing is everything.
The next morning I jumped on I-70E and was treated some of the best canyon scenery yet. I was thinking I really should get some pictures of this and came up on a rest stop with a view a few miles later. It's called Sand Bench, and what a view it was.

 

When I got to Grand Junction, CO I made my planned stop for Colorado National Monument Park. I followed the rim road and just grinned the whole time. Fantastic. I wanted to linger longer but new I need to keep pressing east and cover some distance.
I made it as far as Denver watching the signs for road closings because of the biblical rains. When I reached Denver a lingering thunderstorm was determined to shut me down. There were detours for I-70 thru town and the storm was getting serious. I found an exit with a gas station with canopy, two hotels and a Denny's. Forcast said rain for the remainder of the evening so I called it quits, figuring I would be out of daylight by the time it quit anyway. I had hoped for 150 miles beyond here.

 

The night in the Denver motel was interesting. The front of the Quality Inn and the lobby were very nice and recently refurbished. The rooms are not. Wasn't terrible, just kinda tired looking and cheaply appointed. Got chow at Denny's and enjoyed the show of two cross dressing guys and the fellow patrons reactions. More of a show over at the motel later. Several characters wondering around the parking lot that didn't look all that friendly. Later a knock at my door and no one answers when I ask "who's there?"
A little while later a phone call to my room and the woman is "looking for a friend that drives a truck". Feeling a kinda vulnerable with the bike sitting out and creatures of the night wondering about I contacted the front desk. They promised a courtesy drive by from Denvers finest. The officer actually came to my door and I told him my story and concerns. He informed me that it was a high narcotics traffic area. Sleep well!
I hit the road at first light the next morning, right after I was solicited for money because "her husbands in the penitentiary".
I made it to Columbia, MO that night just as rain set in again. about 720 miles and in striking distance of home.
I battled heavy fog and mist out of Denver and then the wind picked up. I normally can get 180-200miles before reserve. At 140 the needle was telling me to stop and top up.
At the second gas stop I needed fuel too and was going to grab a sub at the gas stop. There were two Harly guys wearing club colors up at the building. One rode away across the street as I gassed up the bike at the pumps. I pulled up to the store and said hello to the remaining rider. Sons of silence, Denver Colorado on his jacket back. He was cool and pretty normal, talked as he layered up for the cool ride home, west to Denver.
His buddy came back from the shop across the road. Big burly guy with a giant round head. He had gone in search of something to cover his face for the cold ride.
"Look what I got man" as he dons his new garment. It's a tube bra that he puts on his giant head with the cups out front looking like he has terminal mumps. His buddy says your crazy man, gunna have to come up with a name for you. I chimed in and said, "Yeah, it's not Scarface, it's Braface".We parted laughing are a$$ off.