Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, September 11, 1994 TAG: 9409190007
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C-10 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BOB ZELLER
DATELINE: RICHMOND LENGTH: Medium
``The moon was so big,'' he recalls. ``It was cloudy, and the moon came up over those clouds and lit that desert up like snow.''
And there he was, leaning back on his Harley, purring along at 85 mph, flames spitting out of the exhaust pipe, so relaxed he wanted to fall asleep. But he couldn't fall asleep because the feeling was so perfect, so pure.
``That was the greatest feeling I ever had,'' he said.
Harry Gant's Harley trip to the Phoenix race last fall, which he made with Kyle Petty and a number of other riders, felt almost as good as being in victory lane, or as winning four in a row, as he did in 1991.
So he's going to ride his Harley back to Phoenix again this year, this time with his wife, Peggy.
And the desire to do this more often - to get out on the open road and head toward some place like South Dakota - is part of what is pulling Harry Gant away from the race track. He'll turn 55 in January, and he wants more time to enjoy simple pleasures. He wants to see his grandchildren grow. He wants to have weekends to himself.
But a big part of Gant's retirement is that racing, especially Winston Cup racing, just isn't as much fun for him as it used to be.
These days, there are so many demands on drivers. They can't leave their haulers without being besieged by autograph hounds or interviewers. They have to watch what they say and do. It's life in a fishbowl.
``You don't know what to say to people,'' Gant says. ``And they're always coming up to you.''
Gant's farewell tour has been far less complicated than Richard Petty's fan appreciation tour of 1992. But he still will have almost 200 public appearances under his belt before 1994 comes to a close.
(His weekend here at Richmond International Raceway became more complicated Saturday afternoon when he smacked the turn 4 wall after a left-rear tire failed. His team had to go to his backup car.)
Gant says he actually will miss the Busch Grand National series more than Winston Cup racing.
``I always enjoyed that a lot more than Winston Cup the past few years,'' he says. ``I just kind of like driving that car. And the series is just a little different. It's not as hectic crowds in the Busch garage as there are in the Winston Cup garage. It's more laid-back. It's just a little simpler and doesn't take near as much work.''
For Gant, the thrill of victory is a basic, gut-feeling thrill uncolored by the prestige of an event, the size of the crowd or the amount of money in the purse.
And so every one of those hundreds of victories in Late Model Sportsman cars early in his career in the 1960s and 1970s was just as big to him as the 18 times he went to victory lane in his Winston Cup career. In fact, those early victories were better in some respects. They were simpler, cleaner. You won and went home.
``There wasn't any big deal about it,'' he says. ``You might win 20 out of 25 and you never really thought much about it. You just went home. And you didn't talk about it. And the next day, you just worked on the car. And you always thought you'd done a lot better than you would if you went to a big celebration deal. That always brought bad luck.
``It was much more fun back then,'' he said. ``That was really racing. Things are tougher now. Everything is pretty scientific. Nobody handles bad any more. And that was always our key - handling. The chassis played a big part and all the drivers worked on the chassis themselves.
``So if you won a race, you won it not only as a driver, you built the car yourself, too. It was a lot more gratifying when you won. It was just a better deal. You just got paid and left. You didn't even get a lot of trophies for winning back then. Most of the time, you just were gone in 10 minutes.''
It won't be long before Gant is gone from the NASCAR scene. It won't be long before ``we just lay it all behind us,'' as he puts it.
And he doubts he'll have any second thoughts. He's raced for 30 years and that's enough.
``I don't think I'll miss it,'' he says. ``I can sit there and watch races on TV and not wish I was there.''
by CNB