Indy's Gasoline Alley, the row of machine shops that line the famed old oval, roared last week with the sound of 900-h.p. engines being pushed to their limit and bustled with mechanized frenzy, profanity and machismo as next Sunday's 500-mile race drew nearer. The Alley is the ultimate in that American male sanctuary, the local garage. TIME's Barrett Seaman reports how a woman was faring there last week:
The instant she saw the faces of the four veteran United States Auto Club drivers who had judged her in the U.S.A.C. 20-lap "rookie test"...
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