LAND-SPEED RACING means exactly what it sounds like—going as fast as you can on land, whether you're riding four wheels or two. Since the 1940s, speed freaks have flocked to Bonneville because the 38-square-mile salt flats are one of the world's biggest wide-open drag strips. They're hugely unexciting on a mountain bike, but they're perfect for answering the age-old question "How fast will it go?"

For all the power and velocity on display at Bonneville, the number of fatalities is smaller than you'd expect—eight in the 58-year-old modern era of salt-flats racing—but there have been plenty of heroic wipeouts, miscues, and glitches. Back in 1914, automobile driver "Terrible Teddy" Tetzlaff reached 142.8 miles per hour on the salt, grabbing the first land-speed record ever set there. Unfortunately, the necessary officials weren't around, so the drive didn't go into the books. Twenty-one years later, car-racing legend Malcolm Campbell came to the salt after word had spread that Bonneville was hard-surfaced, table-flat, and, despite the interstate running across a portion of it, relatively desolate, meaning there was room to run and make mistakes. But a timing-equipment malfunction almost nullified Campbell's white-knuckled, world-record drive of 300 miles per hour. Terrified and jangled, he never raced again.

The two-wheeled competition had its own ragged beginnings. Back in 1948, a Kansas rider named Rollie Free decided he could improve his speed by taking off his clothes; his record run of 150 miles per hour was achieved with him bellied flat onto the seat, wearing only a shower cap, a bathing suit, and sneakers. Then there was Burt Munro, the nutty New Zealander who inspired the 2005 movie The World's Fastest Indian. Munro's claim to fame was his sketchy, much-modified Indian motorcycle. In 1962, he coaxed the 42-year-old bike to 162, a new record.

A few years later, the wayward sport drew in Denis Manning, a 24-year-old motorcycle racer and self-taught designer who spent two years building a wildly aerodynamic streamliner in the tiny garage of a Southern California duplex. Problem was, the bike wasn't fast enough. Ultimately, Harley-Davidson jumped into the project, and after a few near-catastrophic test runs, driver Cal Rayborn and Manning's Harley Streamliner set a world record of 265 in 1970.

Manning hasn't enjoyed the same glory since. Sponsorship dollars, never much to begin with, became increasingly difficult to secure as big-name manufacturers realized that the exhilarating time-trial competitions were a little boring for folks sitting outside the cockpits. Manning's mark was broken in 1974 and 1975 by Don Vesco, a celebrated road racer who upped the ante yet again in 1978. That record stood until 1990, when Campos and his Easyriders streamliner, funded in part by 10,000 fans who donated $25 each, showed up at Bonneville.

Manning, who owns and runs a successful aftermarket exhaust-pipe business in the small Northern California town of Grass Valley, wants the record back. He says he doesn't care if anyone lines up to help him defray the costs of Seven—his seventh and newest streamliner, which he claims has cost him $8 million. "This isn't a gentleman-start-your-checkbooks kind of thing," he says. "It's a Don Quixote thing."

A valiant proclamation, for sure, but one that makes Akatiff and other land-speed racers roll their eyes. "Eight million? I have a lot of respect for Denis, but he tends to exaggerate," says Akatiff. "Personally, I think he's spent about $7.9 million too much and been in the sport about 37 years too long."

To improve his chances, Manning created his own race at Bonneville, which is independent of the more famous, automobile-dominated Speed Week, held in August. Now in its third year, Manning's event is an exclusive meet where motorcycles don't have to compete with cars for the track and riders can take their best shot. This year's race program declared the vision boldly: WE WANT DREAMS BORN, WE WANT RECORDS BROKEN.