Sixteenth and Last in a Series: The Cactus Derby

CAVALCADE Sixteenth and Last in a Series of Historical Paintings by Bill Ahrendt BARNEY OLDFIELD AND THE CACTUS DERBY

Arizonans' infatuation with the automobile was assured a new vigor in the fall of 1914 when the Cactus Derby, a grueling, hazardous road race then in its sixth year, got off to a roaring start in Los Angeles. The race to Phoenix across desert trails and through rugged mountains was run partly to promote better roads. Conducted each year from 1908 through 1917, the Derby was without doubt the roughest race ever held annually in the United States. And in this year of 1914, some of the world's greatest drivers were competing. Among the 20 starters were Louis Chevrolet, Olin Davis, Louis Nikrent, and that barnstorming favorite, Barney Oldfield. The prize? A diamond-studded medal, embossed "Master Driver of the World."

Barney Oldfield was dead sure he could win the medal, and he was determined to do so behind the wheel of the same red and white Stutz he'd driven to fifth place in that year's Indianapolis 500.

A cold predawn rain fell at Eastlake Park on November 9 when the 20 engines flamed to life. Rooster tails of spray plumed behind the contenders as they roared away on the first leg of the three-day run.

Needles, California, 301 miles from the starting line, was the first overnight stop. The second day's dash to Prescott, Arizona, covered 236 harrowing miles of desert and mountains. Wind and icy rain plagued the way as machines, drivers, and their mechanics strove to survive muddy bogs, jagged rocks, and boulder-strewn gullies.

The storm continued to rage the final dawn of the race as 11 survivors roared out onto the last, 134-mile lap to Phoenix. Oldfield at this point held an edge over his toughest opponents, Louis Nikrent and Olin Davis, both previous winners of the Derby. But the worsening weather and the threat of an unbridged crossing of storm-swollen New River made the lead look slim.

Then Olin Davis' car sheered into a bank of mud, breaking the drive chain. He was out of the running.

Nikrent was now Oldfield's chief pursuer.

When they reached the foaming torrent of New River, Oldfield and his mechanic, George Hill, wrapped their coats around the hood of the Stutz, picked a crossing point, and roared for the distant bank. But the swirling waters engulfed the machine, and the great engine sputtered once, twice-then fell silent.

Well behind only moments ago, Nikrent, in his Page, shot past his stalled competitor and plowed successfully across the river as Oldfield looked on helplessly. Barney, still ahead in terms of time, chomped his dead cigar and hoped for a miracle. It was then he spotted the mule team working the far bank. Both men hailed the teamster, and in minutes the mules were hooked to the machine and were dragging it free from the mud.

On the opposite bank at last, Oldfield dropped the gear lever into second and let out the clutch. The motor exploded into life. Slithering wildly over the muddy trail, Barney lashed the last gasps of power from his machine. But far ahead Nikrent was already crossing the finish line at the Arizona State Fairgrounds. He was first to arrive, but he could not yet claim victory because Oldfield still had the clock on his side.

When the mud-spattered Stutz finally screamed onto the grounds with time to spare, the band blared a welcome, and the waiting crowd thundered "Oldfield! Oldfield! Oldfield!" As the car came to a stop, Barney was smiling broadly, the muddy stump of his long-extinguished cigar still clamped in his jaw.

That evening George Purdy Bullard, attorney general of Arizona, presented Oldfield with the diamond-studded medal of victory. Barney had earned the title "Master Driver of the World."

Following PANEL, PAGES 12 AND 13) With Olin Davis out of the running, Louis Nikrent was Oldfield's chief pursuer as they approached New River.