Growing up in southern California in the fifties everyone referred to Las Vegas as Lost Wages. Driving east to see family at Christmas time we drove through once and even stopped to look into one of the 4 or 5 casinos on “the Strip” to see all the flashing lights and people pulling the handles of the “one armed bandits”. The main road through town was only two lanes as the US Interstate system was still years away and side streets were still hard packed dirt.
As the years rolled by and the city grew into the gambling center of today nobody ever thought about cars driving over 200 mph down that same street but they do today. It’s called Formula 1.
As the years rolled by and the city grew into the gambling center of today nobody ever thought about cars driving over 200 mph down that same street but they do today. It’s called Formula 1. 
Number one son, Rob, with more Hilton Honors credits than the Hilton family, invited the family to join him to watch practice and qualifying the week before Thanksgiving. The hotel was on the F1 course and the night sessions were a sight to behold. The course was just a series of crowded streets until 3 in the afternoon when the barricades went up and the course went hot. It had taken over 2 months to set up a system that would turn the city streets into a race track in less than an hour and would take 2 months to take it all away when the racing was done. Because of the potential heat and the European time difference (where the largest audience lives) the action was always at the end of the day with the actual race starting at 10 pm.
We were there to experience the event, not to actually watch the race because when a car goes past you at over 200 mph you really don’t see much. Especially 38 floors up. Rob had also snagged tickets to a showing of Wicked a day before its national release so we all had lots to do. There were outdoor concerts, F1 displays and plenty of F1 gear to take home. Of the 300,000 who showed up, at least 3/4 of them were wearing the uniform of one of the 10 teams on the grid.
Because of limited visibility, the plan was to leave town before the flag dropped, return to Phoenix and watch the race on the home screen that was as big as a garage door. The in-car cameras can’t be beat and there were dozens more on the course. Most importantly we wouldn’t be trying to leave town the next day with everyone else on the two lane roads that lead back to Phoenix.
The travel to and from Vegas on Rt 93 reminded me of the way driving across country was before the Interstate highway system connected cities across America. When cars were slower and roads were just one lane in each direction passing was a real skill. A driver had to practice timing a lot to know when a space in the oncoming traffic would allow for a safe pass. Passing trucks was even tougher because they reduced visibility even more than high spots or curves. The answer, if you knew the road, was to get on the gas hard (we’re talking VW buses here), run up on the vehicle ahead, take a look to see if the lane was clear, if it was, pull out and pass, if not , hit the brakes, hard.
Cars today are so powerful that drivers don’t need to plan ahead. They just pull out, if it’s clear , hit the gas and they pass the car ahead. No skill and very little judgement required. The highway department that maintains Rt 93 even made it easier as they have signs posted announcing passing zones. Every ten miles or so there will be a “passing zone” which is a mile or so where the road becomes 3 lanes, one on the other side and two on your side. Not only makes passing slower trucks and campers easy but keeps drivers from trying sketchy passes because they know that a passing zone is coming soon. Takes all the fun out of it. Nowadays we’re just trying to stay out of the way.
KTF-Tom Tate
