[…] 2021 4 (Editor’s note: Inspired by his review of Louise Ann Noeth’s new book, Bonneville Salt Flats (see p. 11), author Ken Gross shares some of Bonneville’s history as a primer on the subject and to inspire the reader to learn more—as can be gleaned in the new book—and, as said at the end of his review, to “entice you to visit” Bonneville.) G listening in the relentless sun, 110 miles west of Salt Lake City, Bonneville represents a rare phenomenon of nature. Its broad, seemingly endless span of iridescent white salt stretches to the horizon, framed by pale gray mountains. In the foreground, a few times each year, you’ll fi nd brightly colored streamlined racing cars, plastered with decals and white salt spray, often fresh from a high−speed run. Yet nothing really prepares you for the majesty of Bonneville itself, until you’re standing there. The blazing sun beats down like a furnace blast, the panoramic view is breathtaking, and when a racecar roars past, running fl at out, its tortured engine shrieking at maximum revs, the rippling exhaust note fairly smacks you. As each speeding car streaks by, its roaring exhaust note echoes far into the distance, and just stops suddenly. Then it’s so quiet you can’t believe what’s just happened. Real racing at Bonneville began in 1914, fi rst with speed exhibi− tions and staged con tests, and then with “Terrible Teddy” Tetzlaff, who managed a torrid 142.8 mph timed dash in his 300−hp Blitzen Benz. However, the American Automobile Association (AAA), which sanctioned most racing, ignored Tetzlaff ’s feat. Most speed attempts at that time were held on the smooth sands of the Ormond and Daytona Beaches in Florida. Hotels and infrastructure made those destinations popular, but the narrow beach course indirectly contributed to the death of Indy 500 winner Frank Lockhart in 1928, when a tire blew on his streamlined Stutz Black Hawk and his car fl ipped. Had there been runoff room, Lockhart might have survived. Although it was located “in the middle of nowhere,” Bonneville’s broad salt surface made racing sense. Meet David Abbott “Ab” Jenkins, who would become a big proponent of the salt fl ats over several decades. Jenkins came up with a great idea for Pierce−Arrow to help publicize its new Special Twelve—grueling 24−hour endurance runs. Refi ning his long−distance driving technique over two years, in 1933 the clean− living, tee−totaling Jenkins single−handedly drove a stripped−down Pierce−Arrow V12 roadster 3,000 miles over a ten−mile course in 25½ hours, breaking European records set by Bugatti, Delage and Voisin and attracting the interest of the reigning British “Speed Kings,” Reid Railton and Captain George E.T. Eyston. Bonneville was about to expand internationally. Ab Jenkins convinced Sir Malcolm Campbell, holder of eight world land speed […]