Truck Society's Show adds new meaning to the term 'vintage'
Tom Berg
Equipment Editor
The American Truck Historical Society's 25th annual show and convention might not have been the biggest put on by the group, but it did draw 808 vintage trucks and buses and an estimated 20,000 people to the California Speedway in Fontana. And we can testify that it was big enough to wear out your feet. Unless, of course, you scooted around on a golf cart or bicycle - which some folks did.
The speedway's huge infield was nearly filled with vehicle and equipment displays, mostly from individual collectors but also some from current truck builders. Business meetings and educational sessions were part of a schedule so busy that nobody could attend everything. Freightliner LLC and Los Angeles Freightliner were official sponsors, so both new and old trucks with those nameplates were on hand. Many others were big rigs from the 1920s through '70s - GMCs, Kenworths, Peterbilts, Internationals, Macks, Whites and Sterlings, along with Dodges, Fords and Chevrolets from the days when the Big Three auto makers also built heavies.
Of course there were lots of medium-duty models, scores of pickups and a handful of vans. And off in a grassy area was a detachment of military trucks, parked as though their assigned crews were on a bivouac during World War II, Korea or Vietnam.
A special attraction was the opportunity to take two laps of the speedway's two-mile, D-shaped oval track usually used by NASCAR racers. Some truck owners paid the $75 fee because, as one told us, "It's a one-time thing in my life."
As some of the big ol' rigs came out of a curve and roared into the Front Straight, the whine of their overdrive top gears sang out for hundreds of feet. It's a glorious sound that's hardly heard anymore on the highways, as gear-cutting technology has considerably quieted today's transmissions.
Another sound celebrated here was the bark of a Cummins NHS-275. This early '50s model, nicknamed "Two Six Bits," has a gear-driven supercharger and a unique camshaft. The cam's lobes have an almost flat profile that causes the valves to pop open, stay wide open, then pop shut. It makes noise like no other diesel.
Because of this, Ken Talley of Madeira, Calif., has a Two Six Bits mounted in a special trailer. The engine's tied to a pair of disc brakes that act as a dyno, so it can work like it did while climbing long grades in the days before the interstates. He fired up the 275 periodically, let it warm, then loaded it and made it howl through its straight-through stack. A turbocharger would muffle that, as it would the short flame that glows at the tip of the stack after sunset.
Several trucks at the show had that engine. One was Dee Cameron's '27 Autocar tractor, which his father, John, had rebuilt and repowered years before. Its 275 exhales through a split manifold, which sounds even nicer. Cameron fired it up and for a couple of minutes did a duet with Talley's engine, parked just a couple of rows away. This got folks smiling and their ears a-ringin'.
The oldest truck I saw was a 1913 Autocar, attended to by Otto Dunkel, who was born three years after the truck was built. He said his father, Casper, bought it new for just under $2,400 so he could retire a horse and wagon. Casper Dunkel used it to haul people and freight around downtown Los Angeles. The A-car is now owned by Otto's sons, Peter and Larry, who run a machinery moving business in Anaheim.
Such sights, sounds and memories make it almost sad that ATHS's convention and show comes but once a year. In 2005, it's scheduled for June 2-4 in Auburn, Ind.
