Moon Tank Mystery

Earlier this spring, my friend Mike sent me a link to a local online auction. I’ve browsed these types of things before, but I’ve never had the gumption to actually plug in my information and throw in a bid. I’m no fool—I know the World Wide Web is saturated with spammers, schemers and elaborate rip-off artists with lukewarm diet Pepsi pumping through their veins. Nonetheless, I jumped online and saw what this auction was all about.

Hot. Damn. It didn’t take long to realize that this one was different. Or was it? Page after page was filled with crankshafts, engine blocks, pistons, heads, tools, more pistons, rods, and a whole lot more. For the first time, I had a serious shot at buying genuine Hilborn injectors, fuel pumps and other high-performance pieces for pennies on the dollar. “Do you think anyone else is even going to bid on this stuff?” I asked myself. Throwing caution to the wind, I put together an account.

Well, by the time my details were approved, the bids started rolling in. I reasoned that I didn’t really need any blowers, injectors, or even the set of original block letter Edelbrock heads. What I did need, however, was one of the last lots on the list. It was a Moon tank—and it was an old one.

So, I bid. And then I got outbid. Naturally, I bid again. Maybe this won’t be so cheap after all? Time passed and I pretty much forgot about the tank. That is, until the alarm I set on my phone began to ring. And ring. “BID ON MOON TANK!” it said. I did. When the digital dust settled, I won.

That weekend, I drove across the Bay to collect my treasure. As luck would have it, I also scored one-and-a-half Stromberg 48s. (The half-’Berg was old chrome, so that makes it even better.) The pickup point was a performance automotive shop that specialized in racing fuels. I had never been there, but I did recognize their logo from late 1990s Bonneville coverage.

Walking through the shop was a pretty straightforward deal. I spotted a Speed Week poster from 1963 that I tried to make an offer on, but someone had already bought it. Nobody seemed to be in the mood for talking; it was strictly business. That’s just the way it is sometimes. I collected my tank in one building, my carbs in another, paid my bill and hit the road.

***

Back at home, I was able to get a good look at the tank. There’s no denying that it’s old, but the question was: how old? The mini placard of Dean Moon’s T roadster is a dead giveaway that it’s early. Late-’50s? Not quite. The address on the second tag reads Santa Fe Springs, putting it at 1962 at the earliest.

Okay, so we know the era. That’s cool. For me, however, it’s all about the details. “CAUTION-USE ONLY 100% PURE HYDRAZINE” … “DO NOT TIGHTEN FILLER CAP”. It’s as if these Dymo labels are coming straight from the Marlboro smokin’ mouth of the engine builder himself. Note that all three bars on the cap were lopped off in the name of weight savings.

Hydrazine—good until it wasn’t.

I’m sure many of you have owned/handled spun aluminum fuel tanks before. I hadn’t. I was totally blown away at how light they are. They weigh almost nothing, making them a logical choice for anyone doing any sort of racing.

Now that I had the tank, I ran into a classic hot rodder’s dilemma . What the hell do I do with it? If it were larger, I would run it in the trunk of my Model A roadster. It’s small, so the only place it would work would be up front on a serious competition car. While debating my next step, I called my brother. “You know, Joey,” he said, “think about how many model kits you’ve built that had this exact tank on it.”

My mind skipped back to my shelf of 1/24^th scale styrene creations back in Michigan. Believe it or not, every car had a Moon tank either bolted to the spreader bar of nestled in the grille surround. I had subconsciously fulfilled a childhood dream thanks to that unexpected online auction.

***

As hot rodders, you may not find this next section surprising. After enjoying the tank for a little while on my shelf, I had a friend reach out. He owns a number of real-deal 1960s drag cars—including some Fuelers—and he wanted to add the tank to his collection. I needed some money for my roadster. A deal was struck and, just like that, it changed hands.

Before selling it, I emailed a couple of friends who hung around the drag strip back in the day to see if they recognized the tank—or had any experience with Hydrazine. Neither replied. That’s okay. I feel lucky to have owned this piece of drag racing history, even if it was just for a little while.

—Joey Ukrop

Hydrazine photo courtesy of DragZine