Ramblin’ Rods Race Towards Tomorrow

Underneath blue tarps and army blankets sits a ‘54 Studebaker Commander in my backyard. Partially exposed to the elements, this casket of rustic racing stripes was once a rumbling triumph on both track and salt. Partnering side by side idles the wild-ride jalopy that is the ‘31 Chevy Coupe. The junkyard shell traded for a Schwinn, a Malibu hood repurposed into the roof, a distributor poozled from a speedboat and bumper stickers padding the sheet metal interior doors like globe-trotting luggage — the true “one-of-a-kind.” These two vehicles may seem like outdated heaps, but those who look inward see a status symbol of a prominent lifestyle still hitting Utah’s roads today. 

Once someone applied heavy tinkering to an unfinished garage product, a new culture was born. An outward projection to express personality, hot rodding is the truest form of rebellion. Although splitting the subculture into subcultures over time, the interest in classic Americana cars (1972 and older) still stands. “There was an infinite amount of pride in your car,” said Rob Van Canneyt, historian and correspondent of the Stags Car Club. “What you represented gave way to having like-minded kids to do something besides get in trouble.” With that, there seems to be a split demographic that I’ve seen, with different approaches to the Utah car culture: the Traditionalists and the Trailblazers.

“[If] you’re hot-rodding, you’re asking for problems right out the gate.”

The Stags Car Club has been making noise since the late ‘50s. Forty-five members strong, this group builds their hot rods as rolling testaments to a bygone era, especially when a club member’s daily driver is up for a plaque. “We look at these cars and discuss, does it support hot-rodding? Does it reflect on us the direction of where we want to go?” says Plaque Committee Chairman BJ Burkdoll. This straight-laced persona stresses all articles in the club, whether through their picker’s paradise of a clubhouse converted from a decommissioned service station, or the 1940 Ford that’s gone through many coats of house paint and horsepower. “We kind of looked around and were like, ‘Well, who’s got a motor?’” says Dale Hammon, one of the club’s oldest members. “The car is probably in the best condition now.” It’s this respect and dedication that gave them their very own exhibit in the National Hot Rod Association (NHRA) Motorsports Museum in Pomona, California.

“There’s an ass for every seat … We gotta keep rock-n-rolling and see what the future brings.”

Deviating from the orthodox, there are the weekend mechanics who second their crescent wrenches for fine-point pens, taking those familiar bends in bodies and fully reimagining them. Case in point: Dave Kindig, the owner of the Kindig-it Design custom shop in Millcreek and host of the television show Bitchin’ Rides. “[If] you’re hot-rodding, you’re asking for problems right out the gate,” Kindig says. “You’re building modern technology into a classic car, so you’re pretty much prototyping.” Twenty-six years ago, Kindig quit his daily 9-5 to focus on his passion to redefine the hot rod genre. It was his creative young self who toyed with Legos and Hot Wheels that bloomed into project after project. “Before I started my business, street rods were the biggest thing,” Kindig says. “Those guys were taking what they loved when they were a kid, when they didn’t have the budget to afford the good parts, they were hacking up hot rods.” His latest ride, the “TwelveAir,” is a 1953 Corvette that started as polished aluminum sheets and took home the Don Ridler Award. A high-end concept turned out to be an automotive homage.

Nowadays, Utah’s car culture is changing… yet still holding up the pitter-patter of loud motoring. All forms of car modifications are an above-the-law taste of freedom. Fifty years from now, when the Utah Senate kills all possibility of resurrecting a race track and the elites kick all motorheads off the Salt Flats, I hope to still see a few kids fumbling around with a rustic shell of whatever junkyard find in their garage. In the words of Kindig: “There’s an ass for every seat … We gotta keep rock-n-rolling and see what the future brings.”

Read more of the lightning-fast lifestyle of Alton Barnhart:
Off to Tango with the Crimson Bull at the Soapbox Races
Anything but Intelligent: The AI Dating Hellscape