This Streamlined Racer Ran Straight From The Heart

‘Well I’m not braggin’, babe, so don’t put me down. But I’ve got the fastest set of wheels in town.” - From The Beach Boys’ “Little Deuce Coupe.”

You’re wrapped like a mummy in a thick fireproof suit, sweating on your back inside a narrow, 22-foot steel coffin on wheels.

Safety belts bind your body nine ways. Even your wrists are strapped. That prevents your gloved hands from moving any farther than it takes to turn a metal steering wheel 90 degrees.

A crash helmet covers your head, which is raised just enough so you are able to peer through a windshield not much bigger than a porthole.

Now, imagine how it feels to blast 200 miles an hour in this claustrophobic nightmare that is more torpedo than car.

Terry Moreau doesn’t have to imagine.

On Utah’s famed Bonneville Salt Flats last weekend, he set a land-speed record in the emerald green racer he built on a shoestring in the garage behind his north Spokane home.

Entered in the 1-liter engine streamliner category, Moreau’s two clocked runs averaged 199.327 miles an hour, beating the old mark of 197.

Called the “pinnacle of the straightaway racer’s art,” a streamliner is an aerodynamic, four-wheeled vehicle designed for pure speed.

That Moreau had never before driven his creation until he stepped on the hard-packed salt makes the accomplishment all the more staggering.

Moreau, however, wasn’t surprised. “I’ve always believed there is only one way to do things and that’s the right way,” says the 36-year-old engineer. “Especially with a vehicle like this, you can’t compromise on anything.”

The moment was the heady climax of a four-year dream to build a machine powered by the fastest 1-liter Kawasaki motorcycle engine around.

The only thing tarnishing the driver’s glory on those stark, dry flats was the absence of Moreau’s father, the man who inspired it all.

Laurie Moreau, 60, died of cancer two years ago, midway through the completion of this unusual project. He was not just a father, says the son, but a best pal who taught him everything about perfection and mechanics and instilled a thirst for speed.

“While building it, the going fast part was just something I was supposed to do once it was finished,” he says. “Now I can hardly wait to go back to Bonneville. Now I’m comfortable. Now I’m at ease. Now I’m ready to put some real horsepower into it.”

The senior Moreau piloted the Thrifty’s top fuel dragster in the early 1960s - the prehistoric days of straightaway racing. Terry remembers working in his dad’s pit crew as early as age 5, punching holes in cans of oil with a “church key” opener.

The violent roar of high-performance engines and the smell of scorched rubber was quite a classroom for an impressionable kid. No wonder Terry went on to set three world records drag racing a motorcycle in 1984.

Building a world-class streamliner was an idea Laurie Moreau toyed with 40 years ago.

The decision to finally go ahead with the project began simply in 1992. Terry stretched out on the floor and put a pillow behind his head while his dad traced an outline around his son’s body. “The car,” says Moreau, laughing, “was literally built up around me and the motor.”

At 30 inches tall and 21 inches wide, the streamliner makes a telephone booth seem cavernous. There is only a three-inch clearance between the ground and its bottom shell.

It is as much a work of art as science, a gleaming tribute that took 3,000 hours of fabrication and $50,000.

“Everything in it had to be made,” says Moreau. “You can’t just walk into the auto supply store and buy this stuff off the shelf.”

The racer was a collaborative effort of Moreau and Don McBride, Laurie Moreau’s best friend who owns Herb’s Body Shop in Ritzville. Also helping were Dick Flynn and Rich Gortsema.

Taking the streamliner to the flats was only logical. The vehicle isn’t exactly made for the streets.

It would be great fun to cruise Riverside Avenue in, oh, four or five seconds. But stopping would be the hard part. The only way to slow this baby down is with a rear parachute and a lot of room.

“I was pretty nervous before the first run,” concedes Moreau. “When you go down to the Salt Flats with something that looks as good as this, well, everybody’s expectations go up.”

On the long narrow nose of the streamliner, just above the airbrushed American flag and bald eagle, is a simple inscription that tells it all:

“In memory of Laurie Moreau, craftsman, innovator, friend, father, who made this dream possible.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 2 Color Photos