Louise, wow...............
You are a busy person! It sounds like you have your hand
in alot of promotion, pr type work for the landspeed racing
community.
I heard that you are even in some kind of landspeed racing
hall of fame, can you tell us about it?
Will you be working with or for the SCTA/BNI or the USFRA
this year? I heard you worked with the SCTA this last year.
It sounds like you are involved with some really big names on the
salt, I hope you might find time for some of us small guys, I tried
to talk to you at WF, but I think you were too busy, that or I needed
to shower, probably both (I gave up after the 3rd attempt) :):)
Maybe next year you could stop at the salt talks and say hi, I promise
your Humvee(sp) wont get stuck, the rest of us on the list made it out ok,
the foods not great, and none of us broke the speed of sound, some
broke sound, maybe thats why you didnt stop and just honked,
smart lady...
at least we can enjoy your words in the wonderful book
you wrote, fantastic
Joe :)
Louise Ann Noeth wrote:
>I have long endured because I have chosen to do so.
>
>Passion has an inherent, impenetrable amour that permits one to see beyond
>the myopia that is the reward of a closed mind and the energy-draining
>burden of a vengeful heart.
>
>When Al Teague drives the 76, I am with him, along with every other soul who
>wishes him well. As Don Vesco spools up the Lycoming, my spirit rises
>exponentially past the power of the axial shaft, through the mesh of the
>gears and thunders out through the whirring bearing boxes. When Jack folds
>himself into the tiny orange dart, I fly through air alongside. It is the
>smile that Tanis wears inside her helmet that radiates out covering the salt
>with speed's gossamer, giddy glow. The boulevard cruise that Rick and his
>Hayabusa take is a ride we should all be lucky enough to share from
>sidelines.
>
>I stand alone, silent, rocking my center of gravity ever so gently from toe
>to heel and back again taking comfort in the sound the saline crystals
>crunching below waiting for the next car to unzip the sodium in my
>viewfinder. Tracking the image, I hold my breath and pray the focus holds as
>the shutter trips at the exact moment the parachute plucks the racing
>machine from the chilling thrill of accel drawing it back fitfully into a
>mundane reality called stop.
>
>Laying in the intake nacelle of Andy Green's black beauty just hours after
>it had romped to supersonic land and back again, or watching from above
>suspended in flight by a mechanical dragonfly wing were the best hammocks
>this gal ever had.
>
>It has been my great pleasure and good fortune to steer, coax and flog many
>fine machines on land, at sea and in the glorious air. Whether it be the
>snap and crack of 1/4 zip, the raw fatigue that gnaws at your concentration
>during an endurance contest like the La Carrerra Pan Americana and the Mille
>Miglia, the throbbing euphoria as I find groove of Willow Springs, Road
>America, or the dear curves of Laguna Seca, the struggle to climb the banks
>of the Las Vegas tri-oval at 175mph trying to find the courage to stab the
>pedal further into the floor.
>
>Nine knots might sounds slow, but try holding the helm of a 60-foot racing
>Swan on third watch in the Atlantic with your toes. Alone on-deck, leaning
>against the backstay watching the moon unmelt from the watery horizon and
>disappear up through the foot of the spinnaker in the wee hours of the
>morning and you ache with swelling joy as you fly across the sea caressed by
>warm Caribbean breezes whispering past your cheeks. We ran that sail for 29
>hours straight, normally suicidal, but never once did it misbehave. Magic,
>pure magic.
>
>It may have only been a stinky little Cessna 150, but flying solo for the
>first time . . . right into a glowing harvest sunset remains a tingling
>highlight in my life: that first moment of flight by my own hands and wits!
>Stupid grin was evident for days afterward.
>
>>From the Goodyear Blimp that takes forever and a month to spin a doughnut,
>to the high-speed blast down the active at Point Mugu Naval Air Station with
>the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile (only 87mph with tail wind) or riding shotgun
>in the Baja 1000, its all about the speed, the control of a machine as you
>hunt for its limits and yours.
>
>Because God saw fit to toss a little perspicacity my way, it has been rather
>easy to soldier on even when surrounded by prevaricating bullys. It leaves
>more time to enjoy the larger view and share it with others.
>
>Tell me more about Bridgett . . . sounds a great story.
>
>Be Vigilant,
>
>"LandSpeed" Louise Ann Noeth
>
>LandSpeed Productions
>Telling Stories with Words and Pictures
>++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
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