Engineer and Former HRM Tech Editor Jim McFarland Shares Some Career Highlights

    The HOT ROD editor’s chair has proved to be an effective ejection seat, propelling outgoing occupants to lofty perches elsewhere in our industry.

    The HOT ROD editor's chair has proved to be an effective ejection seat, propelling outgoing occupants to lofty perches elsewhere in our industry. An obvious example is the first editor appointed by HOT ROD cofounders Robert E. Petersen and Robert Lindsay, a fellow named Wally Parks. Of all those who followed, some became famous, a few became infamous, and one quiet Texan devoted his working life to educating hot rodders, racers, manufacturers, government regulators, and fellow engineers about the benefits of higher performance. Jim McFarland is still at it today, consulting with automotive clients and penning a monthly column for our sister publication, Circle Track.

    "'You like HOT ROD so much, why not write a story and send it in?' They all laughed, so I did that. "

    "Having an engineering background and professors in the family, teaching came naturally, by osmosis," he explains. "I was an instructor at a University of Texas extension division, teaching engineering courses to precollege students, before I got the magazine job. I have some sort of drive within me to share information. Had HOT ROD not called in 1965, I'd probably be a college professor in Austin, like my dad and uncles."

    "Magazine articles had a lot more influence than dynos. "

    University of Texas's loss was your gain, fellow rodders. During 19 years at Edelbrock, Jim was known throughout the industry for intake-manifold designs that became standard equipment in drag, oval track, road racing, and for the street. Simultaneously, he convinced Vic Jr. to expand his line from intakes to Edelbrock camshafts, then cylinder heads, and other complementary performance products. Lesser known—but no less significant—are his decades of diplomatic successes behind the scenes in Sacramento and Washington, D.C., patiently demonstrating to legislators and regulators how high performance could coexist with environmental protection.

    "I believed, then and now, that displacement is torque. "

    As early as 1966, Jim alerted manufacturers and HRM readers of proposed regulations that almost no one else saw coming from what became the California Air Resources Board and the federal Environmental Protection Agency. His working relationships with agency officials continue to this day. "The purpose is education, just like in the very beginning," Jim explains. "As a result, the level of communication among the agencies and product manufacturers, through SEMA, is remarkable now."

    Since this amazing journey all started right here at HOT ROD a half-century ago, we asked Jim McFarland to take it from there.

    HRM] None of us working in the automotive press in 1965 had heard of Jim McFarland until your byline suddenly showed up in HOT ROD. Where did you come from, anyway?

    JM] Austin, Texas. We had a dirt dragstrip and no speed shops closer than San Antonio. If you were a performance-hungry person, there was nothing at your fingertips. I came to rely on Racer Brown's articles in HOT ROD. I'd been building engines since my early teens, earning extra income during school. I believed, then and now, that displacement is torque. I found a 401ci Buick with an automatic to swap into my 1955 Chevy. The guys I was running with at the time said, "You like HOT ROD so much, why not write a story and send it in?" They all laughed, so I did that: I took a few pictures, wrote about the swap—the ups and downs—and sent it to [Editor] Bob Greene. Three or four months passed, no word. I'm getting teased by my buddies. One Friday afternoon, Bob calls. He said, "We're gonna run your story, but that's not why I called. Ray Brock and I want you to interview for a job." They sent a plane ticket. I spent a day out there, came back. My family all said, "You're crazy." At my very first function with other Petersen employees, one said, "Who the heck are you? Nobody knows you. We've all been around drag racing and cars a long time. This is not gonna work for you." I took that as additional impetus to make sure I did it.

    HRM] You were promoted to tech editor, then editor, and publisher in record time. Why abandon such a promising career?

    JM] I'd gone out there to write, but the further I went, the opportunities to do that became fewer and fewer. After three years, all I had was the publisher's page each month. As you know, a HOT ROD job opens up doors everywhere. One that opened was a friendship with Vic Edelbrock Jr., who wanted help with ads and marketing. Before I went to work, though, Paul Schiefer, a friend of Vic's, asked for help perfecting the slider clutch. Clutches were coming out of Top Fuel cars; we'd just lost Mike Sorokin. After eight months working with Paul on different coatings and designs, I started helping Bobby Meeks develop Edelbrock manifolds for NHRA and NASCAR. Vic had one of the top facilities at that time. Racers would bring engines to us to dyno. Before NHRA's first Pro Stock race [1970], Bill Jenkins, Mike Arons, Wally Booth, and Mike Fons all brought in their Pomona engines—four top guys who'd be racing each other at Pomona! Benny Parsons and Darrell Waltrip came to us. When IROC went from Porsches to Camaros, TRACO built the engines, and we did dyno and manifold work. We had OEM contracts with Chrysler, Chevrolet, and Buick's V6 program. It was challenging and interesting.

    HRM] What impact have dynos and magazine articles had on new-car buyers during your history in the industry?

    JM] Back in the day, the 1960s and 1970s, if you were interested in a performance car from Detroit, you'd go to car magazines for the credible, forthright, comprehensive information about driving it, testing it. Writers were given the freedom to write it as they saw it. Magazine articles had lots more influence than dynos. Remember, before Super Flow came along with affordable flow benches and dynos, they were few and far between, outside of the OEM community. The companies that had dynos mostly kept the information to themselves. There was no Internet or social media. Edelbrock encouraged magazine people to come through and actually contribute. We allowed them to be part of it, not just write stories. Getting them involved made it more enjoyable for everybody, and made the results more meaningful to readers.

    HRM] Any thoughts about the small-block Chevy turning 60?

    JM] I'm not surprised that the engine has lasted, considering how advanced it really was. A lot of technologies all came together there, representing the thinking of a number of individuals. Ed Cole gathered those guys up and turned 'em loose. They did all this in 1954, remember. That engine has not changed that much. Early on, [Cole] went to Smokey Yunick and said, "We want to take this thing NASCAR racing. You tell me what's gonna break, and what's not." Smokey said he broke everything. He did much of the development of what went to NASCAR. In an interview, Zora [Arkus Duntov] said that once they had these parts, Chevrolet brought a half-dozen new cars to give to NASCAR teams. Because of the AMA ban, Zora went to their races undercover. The teams would find him in the grandstands. Then he'd go out to his car and give them parts, clandestinely.

    HRM] How about the big-block turning 50 this year?

    JM] That one took a little longer to come together, under different GM leadership, and evolved differently. It's been refined a lot by the aftermarket. I'm not surprised it's still around, though I don't think it will ever enjoy the reputation of the small-block. Any time you have a big engine, that can translate into torque, but small-block versus big-block is comparing apples and oranges.

    HRM] How many times since the 1960s have you thought that future cars could never make more power than they did at the time (then did)?

    JM] If I didn't know how they're doing it now, that would surprise me, but I do, so it doesn't. Back then, we spent time with racers figuring out what worked with what; how to optimize a combination of parts, either by trial and error or track evaluation. Now, the various technologies evolve on a parallel course. An engineer might never leave his desk. Not only can you design parts with computers, but you can plug power figures into software to predict performance, including quarter-mile times. Although it might not seem like they'll be able to improve much further, that's what we thought in the 1960s too.

    HRM] What do you think about 700hp production cars that you can finance, and how does this impact hot rodding?

    JM] I think you're appealing to a different audience—to somebody who can afford one of those—as opposed to someone who likes to build it. How do you define hot rodding? I think it's the street-rod, street-machine type of person. Folks who buy 700hp cars are also performance-car people, but hot rodders either want to build or work on them; he or she has a more intimate relationship with a car. It's also socioeconomic, having to do with who you are, your background, and how you relate to vehicles, period. There are so many more options now. In the 1960s you could get a street Hemi or a big-block Chevelle or whatever, but those were factory versions of what hot rodders were doing already. At Chrysler, Tom Hoover and Dick Maxwell were drag racers. Hoover once showed me a dyno cell lined with concrete blocks. They'd hook blown-fuel engines to a flywheel with dynamic mass, then suddenly engage the flywheel and go wide-open throttle simultaneously. They had to accelerate that mass just like you would a car, simulating quarter-mile runs. Hoover pointed out several nicks in those concrete blocks, left by Hemis that didn't stay together for all 1,320 [simulated] feet.

    HRM] Tell us about your famous 1967 Camaro.

    JM] That was the first Camaro in California, long before release—May or June of 1966. People thought it was the new Mustang! I felt that this car could be the next 1955 Chevy. After we did HOT ROD's road test, I told Walt Mackenzie at Chevrolet that if he'd let us keep the car for a year, I'd go to aftermarket companies, leave it for a week or two at each, let them build and tool up products. By the time the production car hit showrooms, there'd be a handful of performance parts on the shelf for 350 Camaros. Then Bill Thomas called and said, "Do you know they're coming out with a big-block Camaro? I've got a fresh 375hp 396ci that you can test ahead of the car's release." So one Saturday, Bill's shop installed the engine. The next day, I went to Lions for some easy passes. First run, top of Third gear, 6,500 rpm, I hear a big "pow!" There's smoke everywhere, the car goes sideways. I manage to save it, barely. A rod bolt had broken and kicked a rod right through the pan. Had that rod not hit the front crossmember, it would've gotten the tire. A week later, a box arrives from [Lions manager] C.J. Hart. It's the eighth rod, found by the guy cutting his trackside grass. It's sitting on the bookshelf behind me now. That "fresh" 396 had been out at Riverside for NASCAR tire testing for more than 500 miles! Thomas said, "Let me put a fresh one in there for ya." We entered A/Modified Production at the Bakersfield March Meet. Don Evans made an easy checkout pass—and went one-and-a-half-tenths quicker than the NHRA record. I asked the tech man, Cloy Fitzgerald, "Would you pump this thing?" It was a 500-incher, not a 396. We retired the car from competition on the spot. After our series of stories ended, I scraped to buy it, at full price. I put the 350 back in and drove it on the street for a while, then covered it up behind Edelbrock for several years. Four or five different engines were showcased in that car; some built for performance, others for emissions reduction. Those were the only times it was driven. It stayed there until 1995, with just 17,000 miles. Vic repeatedly asked why I kept the car. When I finally offered it to him, I made him promise he'd never sell it.

    HRM] Which of your careers has been the most satisfying?

    JM] I don't know if I can rank them. I can walk around something and look at it so many ways, based on experience. That's just nothing but good fortune. I can see something from the perspectives of a racer, an engineer, a media guy, a regulator, an administrator. As I was thrust into those different situations, I tried to learn everything I could every time the environment changed. I'm still trying to do that.

    Life of Memories

    "When Roland Leong wanted to go Top Fuel racing, his mom said, 'OK, but only if Keith Black mentors you and goes to the races.' Well, while Keith was gone to a boat race one weekend, Roland took his clutch apart. There's a slight difference, 30- or 40/1,000 of an inch, between the front and back side of the [clutch] discs, and he put it back in there backward. So Mike Snively makes a run in the Hawaiian, and it's smokeless. He picked up a couple tenths, and nobody knew why. Word went through the Top Fuel and Top Gas pits that they'd taken out all of the spring pressure. So they all started doing that, and clutches came out of the cars."

    On Working for Robert E. Petersen

    "I liked him a lot. He was more than fair, overlooking some mistakes I made along the way. I learned a lot about people from him, how you should treat them in a cutthroat business. Like Roger Penske, Pete recognized good people with talent, and let them do their thing."

    On Beating Bill Jenkins

    "Don Evans and I took the red Camaro to the Winternationals in 1967. It was the first year for Super Stock Eliminator, so all the big factory racers were there. Jenkins's Chevy II held the class record and was a heavy favorite. I told Don Evans, 'Bill's a shoo-in here; you're not gonna win anything. We just want to put this car in front of the crowd, make a respectable pass, get lots of pictures taken—for Chevrolet's benefit.' As luck would have it, our two cars were called out of the lanes together for round 1—and Bill left the line with two bulbs on the tree, red-lighting!"