Neal E. Boudette
Wall Street Journal
Aug. 21, 2006 03:22 PM
MILFORD, Utah - On a hot Wednesday morning earlier this month, Richard Losee floored his bright red Ferrari Enzo on a desolate stretch of Utah's Route 257 north of here. His plan was to zoom to more than double the posted speed limit of 75 miles per hour. Cresting a rise in the road, Losee lost control, and his $1.3 million supercar skidded and tumbled several times. The car's carbon-fiber body splintered in a hail of debris and its 650-horsepower, V-12 engine went flying. Losee suffered a serious concussion, a broken sternum and broken vertebrae in his neck.
Losee, the 50-year-old son of a wealthy Utah businessman and owner of an upscale drug and alcohol rehabilitation clinic, wasn't out hot-rodding alone. He was one of about 25 owners of super-fast cars participating in a three-day rally organized and coordinated by the Utah Highway Patrol. On this day of the inaugural event, the Highway Patrol had closed down 15 miles of 257 to let the drivers go as fast as they wanted.
Called the Utah FastPass, the rally is one of an increasing number of driving events staged in Colorado, California, Oregon and other Western states in which owners of elite high-performance sports cars can run their machines on public roads at race-track speeds. In some, police merely tolerate the action - and turn a blind eye if the Ferraris or Porsches tear down a stretch of open road. advertisement
The Utah FastPass goes a step further. While cruising Utah's highways, drivers were accompanied by a dozen motorcycle patrolmen, the head of the Highway Patrol and the state's public-safety commissioner. Mr. Losee crashed during a special event to raise additional funds on the rally's third day when the Utah Highway Patrol closed a remote section of the highway. There, with the road cleared of traffic, Highway Patrol allowed unlimited speeds and planned to "catch" each car on radar and write out a ticket. The "offender" would pay the "fine" to charity - and get to keep the speeding ticket as a memento. Several drivers had planned to frame the tickets as proof they had been "caught" doing 150 or more.
The FastPass is billed as a charitable event. The entry fees of $5,000 per car go to a foundation that helps the families of Utah highway patrolmen killed in the line of duty and funds scholarships for students in Utah's downtrodden rural communities.
Organizers, which include the Highway Patrol and a group of auto enthusiasts, hope to hold a second FastPass next year, and many drivers said they would come back. But in light of Mr. Losee's accident, Highway Patrol officials said that it's unclear if they will go along again.
"We'll have to look at it. Maybe we have to make some changes," said Scott Duncan, Utah's commissioner for public safety, who covered the rally's 800 miles in a Highway Patrol car.
Road rallies tend to attract fairly experienced drivers. Still, accidents occasionally happen and deaths are not unheard of. A few years ago, two accomplished English drivers were killed when their car hit a tree during a professional rally race in Oregon.
Though the high speeds at FastPass were tacitly sanctioned by officials, Mr. Duncan and Highway Patrol officials warned participants before and during the rally to obey all laws of the road. The event's guidebook also cautioned that drivers could be arrested if they "brutally massacre the speed limit." But it also added that troopers "may let an occasional infraction slip by if a participant should accidentally exceed the speed limit."
As the event began, motorcycle troopers allowed the drivers to take off when they came across stretches of empty road. "It's awesome. You're going the speed limit and the guy just waves you on" to speed ahead of the police, laughed Shane Johnson, the owner of a Porsche Boxster S that was upgraded with a 385-horsepower, 3.8-liter V6 engine and cost about $103,000.
Given the green light one morning of the rally, the 35-year old venture capitalist from Laguna Beach, Calif., stomped on the gas. His car surged forward and its speedometer climbed to 125. But his Boxster S wasn't the fastest thing on the road.
Up ahead was a rare Ruf Rt-12, which looks like and shares some parts with the Porsche 911, but has a hand-built, 650-horsepower engine and special ceramic brakes for stopping at high speed. At the wheel was Mark Plummer, 22, a part-time race-car driver who also works for Ruf's only U.S. dealer. When he hit the gas, the $350,000 Ruf blew Mr. Johnson away.
"I got up to 152, 154," Plummer shrugged. That wasn't his top speed, either. The day before he had hit 174, he said. He'd go faster still before the event ended.
A little later the drivers pulled into Escalante, population 744, for a rest. Under trees at the park's edge, onlookers snapped pictures of the exotic cars. Among them was a silver Mercedes McLaren SLR owned by John Price, a Salt Lake City investor who made millions developing shopping malls before serving as U.S. ambassador to Mauritius from 2002 to 2005.
A collector of antique race cars, he saw a picture of a concept for the SLR seven years ago and immediately wrote to Mercedes to place an order. In January, he finally got his car. The price: $500,000. On his first trip, he drove 700 miles to San Diego, averaging 90 miles an hour.
Other cars included a 1958 Jaguar Lister, a 2003 Ferrari F-360 Modena and a brand-new Ferrari 430.
Turning the most heads was Losee's Enzo. One of only 399 made, the mid-engine car is sculpted with curves and air channels to create massive downward pressure to keep the tires on the road. It can reach 60 mph in 3.3 seconds. As a teenager, Losee drove Ferraris that belonged to his father, and his connection to fast cars helped him land a bit part in "The Cannonball Run," a 1981 movie starring Burt Reynolds about a law-breaking, cross-country race.
His Enzo was a one-of-a-kind because he had replaced the original doors with custom-made doors with removable roof panels - enabling him to drive with an open top.
The evening before his crash, he reached underneath the front end with a pair of scissors to trim stray carbon fibers where an unseen spot on the undercarriage had been scraped. The next morning he wiped down the front end and cleaned the windshield with a bottle of blue cleaner he kept in the car. A few miles away at a stop for gas, he touched up the windshield again.
For the charity radar trap on Route 257, most drivers expected either Plummer in the Ruf Rt or Losee in the Enzo to record the fastest speed.
The closed stretch of road lies in empty scrub land 23 miles from the nearest town. The beginning features a series of "whoop-de-doos" - rises and dips where cars can become unstable. Standing by for this part was a first-aid team and a red and white medical helicopter.
Before the start, Losee said he might have a chance of hitting 200, depending on how the high altitude affected the Enzo's engine. "We'll see," he said.
Two Ford GTs zoomed down the track first and each got up to 180 mph. The drivers reported back that the whoop-de-doos were more unsettling than expected. A starter reminded Mr. Plummer to try to hit top speed only on the flatter final third of the course.
Plummer then roared off, with a reporter along for the ride. After quickly reaching 140, he slowed down through the rises and dips, then pushed the bright orange car to 170. When he put the pedal to the floor, the digital speedometer raced past 200, peaking at 206 - a speed at which the car was covering 302 feet of pavement a second.
A moment later he let up on the gas and then coasted nearly two miles to the finish, where he was greeted by slaps on the back. His "ticket" would bring in $800 for the FastPass's charity fund.
Then suddenly came a report of a "PI" - personal injury. Starting after Plummer, Losee never made it to the flat stretch of road. He lost control in the whoop-de-doos and crashed.
Drivers following Losee described the Enzo as "obliterated." Rescue workers cut off the car's specially-made doors and found Losee shaken but conscious. The engine ended up several yards from the rest of the car. Before being airlifted to a hospital, he said he thought he was doing about 150 mph when the crash occurred, people who were on the scene said.
The rest of the rally was cancelled and the drivers headed north to Salt Lake - at the speed limit of 75 mph. At a charity gala and auction that evening, Losee appeared in a short video shot at the hospital. Wearing a neck brace, he said he was fortunate to be alive. He added he was sorry his accident cut the rally short, and pledged a $5,000 donation to the FastPass charity fund.
As for his Enzo, he said, "It's just a car.":