There are many things that can cause frustrations when it comes to racing. We aren't always happy-go-lucky people enjoying our adrenaline and extended family. In fact, a lot of times things can go wrong in an instant, both on and off the track, which results in an upset driver and crew. These things are often unplanned and unexpected, but they always provide material for a story afterward. Here are some of the things I've either seen or experienced throughout my years at the drag strip.
1. Want to slow down. Can't slow down.
This happened to me personally. Multiple, terrifying times, to be honest. In the junior, my first time in the car, we were practicing in the road in front of the house. It's not a busy road by any means, and it presented me with the ability to turn around in our yard. I was eight years old, had never driven the car, and wasn't the most comfortable with it. Another important point - the fact that our yard had a long hump in it, which I had to direct the junior over every time I needed to turn around. Well, long story short, the throttle hung open. This means that the gas was stuck at that position as I went over this hump and I was unable to slow down.
This sent me shooting across the road in front of the house and into the corn field across the street, with little control over the car. My only option, hit the little red button on the right with my pointer finger to shut off the car. My only problem: every time I tried to push the button, I'd hit a corn stalk and my finger would fly away from my sole source of control over the engine. When I finally hit the button I was half-way through the field, wide-eyed, terrified, and ready to quit.
It took two years before I got back into the car, for it to happen at the track and for me to take out an E-Z up with my junior. Luckily, my father wouldn't let me quit until I had a clean pass. I haven't wanted to quit since.
2. Fire, Fire, Fire
This is not a personal story and therefore, I cannot speak from experience. We were at the track parked in our usual spot away from the track and able to see the eighth mile, but unable to see the entire shut down area. First, we notice the smoke billowing on the other side of the hill. Big, black balls of smoke rising into the air.
Next, comes the announcement: nobody go to the second turn off. Allow safety to do their job. So, of course, we all hop onto our tow vehicles, golf carts and four wheelers, and make for the big end to witness the commotion. Little did we know that as we crested the hill that Dad would say "Floor it." Dad's friend's painted red with yellow flames car was literally on fire. Cars don't often catch on fire and for whatever reason, the safety crew's fire extinguishers weren't working.
Luckily, they were eventually able to put out the flames and save the car, but I cannot imagine the fear that was experienced at the potential loss of his car.
3. When does the oil stop?
I've mentioned several times that this past summer was not one to repeat. The reasoning? Well, a blown motor certainly does the job.
We knew that the motor was on its last leg - we were just hoping that it would last until the end of the summer. Unfortunately, it could not, and the result was not an enjoyable one. I still don't remember the events between a loud pop and a clang, followed by a puff of smoke entering the car at half track, and me pulling the White Whale over several feet after the finish line.
What occurred, I'm told, is that my tires drove through my oil after the motor gave out, which put me in the ride of my life as I tried to keep the car out of the guard rail. Apparently, I did my job, although I don't remember steering the car.We got everything loaded up, ate dinner, and made our way to the staging lanes to chat with everyone before the crew was able to clear all my slick oil from the racing surface.
4. I think something is missing?
I know many racers who have flat tire stories from their travels. When you travel miles upon miles with motorhomes and trailers, you're likely to have a flat or even a blown tire every once in a while. And it's occurred quite a few times for those people in our extended family. But not many people can say they've lost the tire and the wheel completely from their ride and kept on going. My dad can.
It was a late night heading home from a race day that I cannot even recall. I do, however, recall my mother dozing in the passenger seat, nodding off every few minutes to wake herself back up. I was doing the same in the chair behind her seat. This happened several times before we noticed that my father kept glancing in the rearview mirror with a perplexed look on his face. After having seen him do this multiple times, my mother finally asked what he was looking at. He told her he thought we were missing a tire, but said nothing more on the subject. We took this to mean that he'd determined we weren't since he hadn't pulled over to check.
Fast forward to us awakening to the motorhome coming to a stop. Sure enough, he went to check and we'd lost the center of three wheels on the trailer. He drove us on home, even after checking, saying we'd made it this far. We've never found that wheel, though we took the same route multiple times that year.
5. Bounce. Bounce. Ouch.
Also not my story, but one that makes me simultaneously laugh and cringe. Drag racing crews often have pit vehicles. Some have four wheelers. Some have dirt bikes. And some have golf carts. Now we have a friend who got a new golf cart and took the cart to get painted or wrapped, I'm not sure. Unfortunately for him, when he went to take the cart home after it had been done up, the cart didn't get strapped down to the open trailer correctly.
Upsetting to say and easy to imagine, our friend had to watch his new-looking cart bounce and roll down the road in the rearview mirror of his truck, not far from where the cart had just been made-over.
6. Problems. Solve 'em.
Something I'll never forget, along with all of these stories, is the time I worked on the junior by myself and my dad didn't check over my work. It was a simple task, really. My job was to take the old fuel lines from the car, cut new lines, and put them in their positions on the car. It seemed easy enough, and it was. I completed the task rather quickly. But not correctly, we would later find out.
The motor wouldn't run correctly the first weekend out after the change. We couldn't figure out the problem and decided to just run until the problem presented itself. And it did. In the round that I lost, my dad noticed that a kink had formed on the line from the fuel tank to the carburetor. I had cut the line too short which was causing a lack of fuel.
Something else broke on the car that day, something that didn't have to do with my mistake. It's something that I can't remember now, but I had felt so guilty and responsible for the entire failure of the system that I began to cry.
My father sees it as a moment to be proud, a moment where he recognized both that I took responsibility for my actions and that I understood how expensive this hobby really is. I wasn't at fault for the overall damage to the motor, but I wouldn't forget the guilt or the lesson I learned about checking over your work and asking for a second pair of eyes just to be sure.
All of these stories come with a lesson. Whether it be, check your work and equipment or trust your instincts, these things were painful at the time, but definitely proved to have some gains in the long run.
