In the Black Rock Desert in Nevada, US, 265 kmph is nothing. At this congregation point for those obsessed with pushing the limits of speed, the magic figure is 763 miles per hour (or 1,228 kmph). On October 15, 1997, the Thrust SSC—a cross between a jet, a batmobile and a whale—swept through the salt flats at 763 mph, smashing the land speed record and the sound barrier. Think the Sea Link in 16 seconds. Or, Delhi-Mumbai in 68 minutes. An onlooker described it as “a missile fired sideways across the desert”.

The brave, stubborn and ambitious folks behind the Thrust SSC are now assembling the pieces to raise the bar again, to a scary round figure of 1,000 mph (1,600 kph). At least three other teams are also preparing to earn the bragging rights of being the ‘fastest on earth’. They live for such pursuits. Wing Commander Andy Green, who piloted the Thrust SSC, says on his team’s website that he has the “world’s best day job” (Royal Air Force fighter pilot) and the “world’s best holiday job” (being part of a land speed record team).

***

Faster, Faster…

In a century, man has gone from 100 mph to 763 mph on land. And there’s more to come.

1927 Sunbeam 1000 Hp

1963 Spirit of America

 

1997 Thrust SSC

2011 (planned): Bloodhound SSC

1mile per hour = 1.609 km per hour

***

An entire sub-culture—people, places, communities, way of life, competitions, artistic expressions—has emerged around these speed records. For this close-knit fraternity, it’s a never-ending, passionate chase, be it on land or on water. In spite of operating on the cutting edge of technology, it’s a chase that is deeply individual, not institutional. The cars are crafted in their backyard, using their own money or that cobbled together from many places.

The risk of failure is palpable. As is the risk of death, the acknowledgement of which comes in wry tones. Humour is used as a defence mechanism. Australian Ken Warby, holder of the water speed record (317.6 mph, set in 1978), once said this of the two men who were planning to go faster than him: “Their chances are absolutely zero. I’m booking plans for two funerals.” Over the years, many have died, but the pursuit survives, evolving with the times.

On Your Marks

In the quest to find more speed, every facet of the drive has seen radical evolution, starting with the basic power behind the car. At the beginning of the century, electric cars were the fastest. The first land speed record, of 39 mph, was set in 1898, on an open road in France. Electric yielded to steam-powered cars, which gave way to piston-powered cars, or what the world drives today. In the 1920s, aero engines made their appearance. Since the 1960s, jet engines of discarded fighter planes, supplemented by rockets, have become the norm.

The favoured running surface has also changed several times. The racers started with roads, before moving to wet beaches. In the 1930s, they discovered the wonder of dry salt lakes, two in the US in particular—Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah and Black Rock Desert in Nevada. They have stayed there since, chasing the land speed record—two runs, each a mile long, in opposite directions over the same course.

The year 1923 saw the emergence of the first of the stars who would go on to challenge the land speed record over several decades. They would experiment with vehicle shapes and sizes, materials, technologies and aerodynamics. And they gave their cars fancy names. On his Bluebird, Malcolm Campbell, a Brit, claimed, lost and reclaimed the record several times. In 1935, he broke the 300 mph barrier.

Increasingly, this individual pursuit was acquiring national hues. The Americans had jumped into the fray, but they were getting mauled by the Brits, and they were not happy about it. The Brits were led by Campbell and, later, his son, Donald. Among the Americans, the most famous was Craig Breedlove. In 1962, the 25-year-old Californian drag racer built a three-wheeler powered by a jet engine. He named it, appropriately, Spirit of America. In October 1964, Breedlove cracked 500 mph. Over the next three years, Breedlove and another American, Art Afrons, traded records, breaking the 600 mph mark. The Americans were ruling.

Speed Of Sound

Enter British businessman Richard Noble. When he was six, Noble had seen a water speed record attempt at Loch Ness, Scotland, and it held him in thrall. Twenty-two years later, in 1974, he started building the first British jet-powered car, Thrust 1. It crashed in 1977. Noble persisted, and his Thrust 2 clocked in at 633 mph at the Black Rock Desert in 1983.

The next magic number was 700 mph. With Mach 1, the sound barrier, barely 40 mph down the track, Noble felt he could smash that too. The sponsors weren’t willing and Noble moved on to other things. Some years later, when Breedlove told Noble that he had acquired two GE turbojets to take the record back, Noble start moving.

He met aerodynamicist Ron Ayers and the idea of a supersonic car was born. When research began in 1992, Ayers felt they couldn’t break the sound barrier on land, as the shockwaves under the car would make it airborne. But initial testing showed supersonic was possible, and thus was born Thrust SSC (supersonic car).

This was a team effort like none before. As the speed bar was being raised, so were the technological demands. They needed more money, but corporates were not interested. So, they came up with the idea of harnessing the power of community and the Internet, which has since become a revenue model for these record chasers.

Thrust SSC invited the public to become members of the ‘Mach 1 Club’. In return for their financial support, members got privileges. ‘Open days’ were organised when they could see Thrust SSC from close, listen to presentations and talk to the engineers. They got merchandise, they got to put their names on the engine covering.

What started as a fund-raising initiative evolved into a way of capturing public imagination. Noble set up a website (www.thrustssc.com), which became the public’s window to the project. Progress and project details were revealed in extensive detail, regularly. Noble posted long monthly updates. Such sharing magnified an endearing quality about this pursuit. Competitors are locked in a race where one will come out ahead, but they practice a civility that reflects a shared compassion.

Breedlove was working in the US, Noble in the UK. In January 1996, the two signed an agreement on the shared use of the Black Rock Desert that September. The race was on. After several penurious moments, false starts and close shaves, on October 13, the moment arrived: 763 mph.

British actor Andrew Graves, who was there, describes the run on his website. “We saw the giant rooster tail of dust rising behind the car as it made its way towards us noiselessly—at that speed, the sound trails the image of the car by about 5 miles. The car passed us and entered the measured mile—it was travelling at over 700 mph, but the run didn’t look or sound very impressive…during the return run, the tracks were so long that we saw the rooster tail from over the horizon before we saw the car. It entered the measured mile and came streaking towards us. By the time it was level with the spectator area, it was already braking, trailing the brake-chute behind it. But we still hadn’t heard a thing—just silence. Then, it came. First, the sound of the engines. Then, BOOM, BOOM—two huge sonic booms that, seconds later, echoed off the surrounding mountains.”

Without Limits

Twelve years on, 763 mph still stands. Maybe, not for long. A Canadian-American team (North American Eagle) and an Australian team (Aussie Invader 5R) are mounting separate challenges. And Noble is lining up 1,000 mph, on a car that resembles a longish bobsled, Bloodhound SSC. All three runs are planned in 2010 and 2011. Is there a limit? No, reckons Ayers. “At most, you can define a performance limit for a particular type of technology,” he says on the Bloodhound website (www.bloodhoundssc.com).

The Bloodhound’s initial budget is estimated at £6.5 million. Like the Thrust SSC, Bloodhound allows continuous access to the public and tries to make them stakeholders, and it does so more smoothly and innovatively. It’s something even the other two teams do in parts. “This is not an Edwardian racer out for a boy’s thrill,” says Noble in one of his jottings. “This is a very carefully constructed programme to inspire and encourage the next generation of engineers.” May the best man win—and live to tell the tale.