At Car Craft Magazine in the early 90s, someone had the idea to do a series of stories about the "Real Truths of Street Racing Today" Or something like that. We'd planned to report about L.A., Detroit, St Louis, and other lively venues.
I was freelance at the time, and I (plus one other guy and a Petersen Publishing photographer) spent several weeks going to all the local SoCal illegal venues. We interviewed drivers and spectators who were typically paranoid/secretive/scary (sometimes all three.) Or they proved to be total squirrels and racer-wanna-bes.
The whole experience was "interesting" to be part of, but the tactical mistake we made was driving a Petersen photo van, which was painted "undercover cop car" brown, with dog dish wheels, no side windows, and replete with giant roof rack platform. No, we were not welcomed with open arms. And, shooting flash photos out from the dark confines of the van's interior caused the people to scatter like roaches on a linoleum floor.
Night Two, we wore our Car Craft logo shirts, hats and jackets like they were some sort of gang-member-repellant shields, and it did get a bit easier to walk up to someone and ask if it's okay to take photos of them standing by their car. (But, only about 10% of those we asked, said okay. That's up from 0-1% w/o the Car Craft swag.)
The most memorable time during that story's production was one late night in Lennox area (aka South Central) when we thought the crowd was going to turn on us. It was only because we knew one old-time racer's nickname (something like "Nitrous Bob") and said he'd vouch for us, that we survived...even though good ol' Bob wasn't there that night.
We wisely headed back to the Valley, where the Hispanic gangs in low-riders gave off vibes more like PTA Moms in station wagons, by comparison.
At San Fernando Road, as mentioned by others, the rowdy stuff sometimes did get out of hand...with spectators throwing food, drink cans and rocks at the racing cars. We never saw any guns, but did hear a "pop...pop...pop" once.
We went to Terminal Island and interviewed Big Willy, and he was the overlord, to be sure. That was 30 years ago.
We ran two or three long stories in Car Craft, before we came to our senses and called it quits. There was little chance that we'd get the real "full true story" of the inner sanctum of street racing. Especially because the characters, the streets and the car setups vary, according to parts of the country.
And, because no one wants to reveal/discuss/admit their knowledge of anything.
"Bottle Bob" ran a late 60s early 70s Corvette on juice, hippy reject cranky old man, was in the middle of swearing he didn't run squeeze on a pass. The solenoid stuck open and blew the mufflers off the back of the car. Sounded like a whole box of M-80s. LOL he was a character. NOT a friend, however I knew who he was.
My Chevelle had a bottle, I could disconnect it, crack open the bottom d prove it was disconnected. I could disconnect the solenoid under the hood. There was another bottle system that went through the frame rails, up through the bottom of the radiator out through the radiator hose, into the bottom of intake manifold and connected to a solenoid under the intake. That's how the nitrous oxide got to the intake manifold. The gasoline solenoid is the one on top nobody ever cared if it got disconnected.....that is how the gasoline got to the intake manifold. The radiator Greg Shaw had made over in a San Fernando radiator shop. The connections were all #6 stainless steel bulkhead fittings out of a San Fernando road surplus shop.
Greg Shaw was the king of "Squeeze" (his nickname for Nitrous Oxide. Greg made a 300, 450, and a 600 horsepower set up for the race plane. We tested the 450 horsepower unit for a 30 minute flight duration. We carried a lot of squeeze we hardly ever used, but it was there if we needed it.
John