|
| |
| |
| 06-22-08 |
|
BRANDED! |
| In 2001 I was attempting to run a full season on the
pavement at "The Bullring @ LVMS" in the grand american modified (NASCAR)
division. I had an uncanny ability to qualify in just the right
spot. If I qualified 4th, they inverted 4, 3rd and they would
invert 3, and so on. I was on the pole almost all the time and I
was able to stay in front and win. One race I started
inside second row and the pole sitter bobbled off two on the start and I led
every lap there to win. Following the wins I was getting
TRASHED on my friend Carly's message board at LVLOCALRACINGSCENE.COM.
"Anyone can block the bottom for 30 laps to win" among other things was
being thrown around. By my June 19th win I had enough.
I knew the annual "4th of July spectacular" was happening the next time out.
So during my on track interview I stated that I was "tired of starting up
front!" So I said, "what does the crowd think about inverting
the whole field for the Night of Fire?" The crowd ROARED!
Well careful what you wish for as they went for it. 18 cars were
inverted for the feature which found me starting around the 16th spot in the
field. YIKES! My competitors wanted my head on a
stick, REALLY, they were MAD! "It's going to be a mess with all
those slow cars up front." At the green it was WILD.
Three wide through the whole pack on a well known ONE GROOVED race track.
It was like Daytona or Talladega only on a 3/8 track. Most guys
ran a radio and mirrors. I didn't have either although officials
FORCED me to install a mirror. They aren't allowed on dirt and I
didn't like having one. So after forcing me to install one, I
noticed it bothered me. My fix was that when I went on the
track I would turn it so it was facing the roof. It was useless
and it was best if I couldn't see it. Not only could I not
afford radios, but I would have argued with my dad or told him to be quiet
anyway. Haha! Anyway, it was wild. Just
like Daytona a huge pack running two and three wide. Well just
like Daytona, we had the big one. Just a couple of laps in
someone up front lost it and the cars piled in. Only 6-8
cars made it through the wreck. I was one of them.
No radio or mirrors and I drove right through it. Those with
radios were towed off, some required two wreckers. Back to
racing and I could really feel how angry my competitors would be since the
wreck happened. I made it up to third and then passed for 2nd.
However it wasn't too long before I got a big push from behind and a car
drove over the left side of my car and flew into the air over the front of
my car as I spun. As I restarted the car and took off down the
front stretch I tried shaking the car side to side to feel things out.
Rounding turn 2 I got a searing pain down the middle of my back. OUCH!
I leaned forward as much as I could and it got somewhat better.
I actually thought the battery had exploded, but the car wouldn't still be
running. It hurt SO bad. The pain was bone chilling
and I know I had tears streaming down my face. But I sucked it
up and restarted last. As the green waved I forgot about the
pain, sort of. I wound up driving through the field (not
literally) and wound up in 2nd place for the night. The most fun
I had on pavement besides the time they covered the whole track with dry
sweep and it was slicker than a dirt track. In the pits we
surveyed the damage and found a huge chunk out of the left front brake
rotor. Upon further inspection we found a burn hole in the seat
cover. And even further inspection found a hole through my
firesuit, my under shirt and a big red blister on my back. Low
and behold under the seat cushion as it had burned through sat the hunk out
of the brake rotor. It matched up perfectly. Seems the red
hot front brake (on pavement the front is always glowing red) had been
chipped off and the piece managed to come in the window net and wedge behind
me in the seat. That was the searing pain as I was being
branded by the piece. So I guess I belong to the Blazing Rotor
ranch as I am forever branded with a burn scar between my shoulder blades.
No joke! I can relate to those cows that are branded!
OUCH! |
| |
| 05-10-08 |
|
HERO? |
Oh what it would be like to be young again.
When I was about 10 years old my good friend Brandie and I had a
three-wheeler and a mini-bike. With the desert just at the end
of our streets, we were always hitting the desert to "go ridin'" as we put
it. Whether it was summer vacation or a couple of minutes
after getting home from school at 3:00 we were out there kicking up dust.
She was quite the tom girl and it was neat to have someone to go riding
with. The dilemma this time was that Brandie didn't have a gas
cap, it was lost somehow. (She had little sisters, enough said)
So not to be left behind she rigged up a gas cap of her own and we headed
out to ride. We were way out by our standards, which equates to
about 1000 feet from the housing track today. I wanted to ride
up this little mount so I headed up. There was a small bump on
the way up and I enjoyed every second of it as I headed up. Once
at the top I turned to watch Brandie head up the hill. She hit
the bump and was almost to the top when WHOOSH! A ball of fire
engulfed the mini bike and Brandie's legs. She immediately put
her bike down and began running towards the houses. I got off my
three-wheeler and began removing my helmet chasing after her.
She was a good 30 feet ahead of me and I was trying to catch her.
As I ran all I could think of was a Dick VanDyke commercial from the time
that instructed people to "STOP! DROP! and ROLL, DICK, ROLL!"
I yelled to Brandie, "roll on the ground, roll on the ground."
She dropped to the ground and barely rolled over twice before panicking and
getting back up to run again. Again at a full run she was
screaming and flailing her arms at the flames trying to slap at them.
I don't know what happened, but I suddenly knew what to do. Not
sure if it came from watching my dad put our carburetor fires on the race
cars or what, but I set off to put the fire out. I quickly
lifted the shirt off my back and yelled for Brandie to stop.
Running over to her I began to beat the flames with my shirt until I had
knocked enough of them down to get closer. Once they were
knocked down, I was able to wrap my shirt around her leg and smother the
remaining flames. I told her to wait there as I returned
to get help. Firetrucks and paramedics were on the scene quickly
and whisked Brandie off to the hospital. While she suffered 2nd
and 3rd degree burns on her legs, she was ok. Firefighters
and paramedics said that I saved her from possible death as she would have
never made it back to her house in time.
Later that week my parents were contacted by the Governor's office.
I was interviewed as "The Hero" in the local newspaper, honored by the Las
Vegas Fire Department, and received the Heroism Award from the Governor at a
ceremony later that month.
So I can honestly say that I am a hero, I have the certificates and medals
to prove it. |
| |
| 04-09-08 |
| THE
NEVER ENDING JOURNEY! |
| 2002 was the year and we were racing hard, chasing races
whenever we could. The Memorial Day weekend holiday was a good
time to hunt races as many places would race on the Sunday.
During this season we decided to race in Victorville, CA on Friday and then
make the trip to Fallon for a Saturday and Sunday show. No
problem. Victorville is a couple of hours from Ridgecrest, CA
and we figured we would get a hotel room there on the way to Fallon after
the races. A long night of racing and we headed out.
Everyone was sleeping by the time we rolled into Ridgecrest.
Problem. No rooms. No problem, we'll head up the
road and certainly something will open up. 1 hour, nothing, two
hours, nothing. We were then to Bishop, CA and once again were
met with NO VACANCY signs all over the place. Still trucking
along, it was now after 2am and EVERYONE was sleeping soundly, except me of
course. I was just about out of gas and was beginning to panic
as every small town we were going through had rolled up the sidewalks and
went to bed for the night. It was covering the "E" and
there was no relief in sight. At a four way stop I spotted
a gas station off the road that had pay at the pump service 24 hours a day.
WHEW! Avoided that disaster and headed back on the road in
search of anything with a bed. Dragging down and losing
motivation as the others snored in the background, I had made it all the way
until 5:30am. I would stop every once in a while and take
a walk around the truck to take in the cool air and get my body moving.
The stops were becoming more frequent and my eyelids were not cooperating at
all. At 7:00am I was about 2 hours from Fallon and the sun had
just begun to crest the horizon. I'm not sure why but that's
when I realized just how tired I really was. YAWN!
We were traveling on a windy road through a mountain range as the sun
finally rose. Again, everyone was zonked out looking as peaceful
as ever. It was inevitable. It happened.
OUT I went. ZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
I woke up and jumped to attention. I was actually
still on the road. However one look in the mirror told the
story. There was a cloud of dust on the right side of the road
kicked up where I obviously had been prior to waking up. I
quickly glanced around the truck expecting everyone to be sitting up with
their hair standing on end. Not a single person stirred.
W-H-E-W! The sudden flirtation with death had sent a shot of
adrenaline through my veins very quickly. My heart was pounding
and I was WIDE AWAKE! Two hours later we arrived in fallon,
almost 10 hours after our journey started. We had rooms
reserved in Fallon but they weren't until Saturday afternoon. We
were a little early. After some explanation the hotel was more
than gracious and allowed us to check into our rooms shortly after the maids
cleaned them around 10:00am. I slept a good 4 hours before
getting up to head to the track. I ran 4th that night after
breaking a brake line on the rear and going with only front brakes for the
last half of the race. I stunk in Victorville too as I only ran
7th after starting 8th. |
| |
| March 20, 2008 |
|
$1000 to win, or $2000 to win.......that is the question! |
| On Halloween weekend of 1999 we learned of a $1000 to
win race in Victorville's Route 66 Raceway in California. With
no other tracks racing at that time, we headed down to see what we could do.
I had never won more than $500 in a race so, hey, it was worth a shot.
I had been to the track a couple of times and really enjoyed racing there.
In fact another team moment talks about how I couldn't get off the track my
first time there (see below). There was about 20 cars there and
I remember winning my heat which placed me outside front row for the
feature. I ended up getting into the lead and had a healthy lead
when my dad began going crazy on the sidelines. He was signaling
huge lead and I eased up. But on a dry slick track, sometimes
going slower leads to quicker lap times. Much to his chagrin I
ended up catching and lapping more cars. I lapped up to 5th
place as the checkered waved on my biggest payday to date!
Yippee! My dad would later scold me for not yielding to his
signals. Ok, so it wasn't a major scold. A local
driver had basically got the $1000 first prize money donated so he came over
to my pit after we passed tech and counted out 10 $100 bills for our win.
Oh, they were so green it was great. I wanted to catch an enduro
race they were holding after the modifieds. So I walked up to
the fence and caught the race just underway. Just as I got there
a car ramped up the back straight wall and actually straddled it with the
passenger wheels outside the track and the driver's side wheels inside the
track as the undercarriage of the car grinded with sparks flying.
After scraping for about 100 feet, the car tipped down on the left side and
got off the wall. He KEPT GOING! It was great.
I became an instant fan. Then I hear a lady sternly calling my
name to the pit shack. "Dan Fitzgerald to the pit shack
IMMEDIATELY........THIS MEANS NOW!" So I reluctantly peeled myself
away from the entertaining enduro race to visit the cheeky lady in the pit
shack. As I got there, she explained that she "would have
been running down here if I were you." I asked why and she
opened an envelope and proceeded to count out 10 crisp and green $100 bills.
HUH? I said, are you sure? She said, "of course, now sign here."
So I did but knew it wasn't right. I looked for the driver that
paid me the $1000 and he wasn't in his pit. After a few minutes
of searching I found him in another guy's pit. I asked if I
could speak to him and I asked if it was $1000 to win or $2000 to win.
He was a little miffed and said, "it was $1000, which I paid you."
I think he was thinking I was trying to get more money or that I was
complaining. I then showed him $1000 and said, the track just
paid me this at the pit window making it $2000 in my pocket from this race.
"Oh man, you saved my ass Dan, thank you!" Turns out there was a
miscommunication and he would have had to pay the track that $1000 out of
his own pocket if I had kept it. Honesty is the best policy, but
my richest career win to that point almost became richer! |
| |
| March 6, 2008 |
|
|
| |
| February 20, 2008 |
|
RACE, THEN ROB? |
| After a long night of racing in Mohave Valley back in
2001 or 2002 we hit the road for the 126 mile trip home. Shortly
after leaving Searchlight, NV. we had a "nature calls" moment at the side of
the road. While nature called we heard a sizzling coming from
the trailer. After some investigating we found that the wheel
bearing in the trailer had gone and was fried. Luckily we still
had the smaller dual axel trailer, not the current HUGE trailer.
The bad news is that we were in a dead spot with the cell phone.
Ended up having to walk a ways from the truck to find reception and got a
call through to my parents who were already quite a ways ahead of us.
My dad informed us that he was tired and that we should, "call a tow truck."
Okey doke. It was already after midnight when we discovered the
problem so we knew it would be a long night. Shortly after
2:00am the tow truck arrived with the trailer capable of carrying our
trailer. After loading it up we told the driver to meet us at
the major intersection near the house. From there we would lead
them to the house. It seemed easier than giving directions.
While traveling the rest of the way home happened faster without the
trailer, the tow truck driver took a LONG time. The hour trip
ended up taking him MUCH longer. I waited in the parking lot of
a gas station nearby. I waited some more, then some more, then
some more. Called the company and they said he was, "right down
the road." It was after 4am. Finally something
finally happened! Still parked in the gas station parking lot at
the edge of the property I found msyelf surrounded by not 1, not 2, not 3,
but 4, yes 4 squad cars lights a blazin'. I was instructed
to step out of the vehicle. I was then told to lock my hands
above my head and walk backwards to the car. Of course I was
then told to put my hands on the hood of the squad car. It was
hot. I naturally jumped when my hands hit the hood and I was
yelled at to "keep 'em on the car." OUCH! It was
obvious that they hadn't just started to car to come out there! (haha).
As I stood there I was told to spread apart my feet. I did, but
obviously did not obtain the desired distance between my feet.
Abruptly I was kicked in both ankles as he again repeated the "spread 'em"
directive. After a brief moment of having him go through
my pockets and touching places I didn't quite enjoy, he asked why I was
scoping out the gas station. "The employees are worried you are
planning to rob the place. You've been here for over an hour."
I thought, "oh yes, sit here for over an hour so they can get a good read on
my license plate, etc, etc, that was the plan." Of course they
didn't believe any of my story about the trailer. That is
until they realized that my story matched Blake's story as they promptly
separated us hardened criminals so we couldn't come up with a story.
So after about 30 minutes I was instructed to leave and "wait somewhere
else." Not a problem! Funny, but just after
finishing with the valley's finest, here comes my trailer off the freeway.
FUN! By 5:35am I was home and enjoying my freedom.
|
| |
| January 21, 2008 |
|
FIRST MODIFIED RACE! |
| My first modified race was on my birthday in 1996.
I was still in the points race in the street stocks and my parents had
picked up the car while I got the street stock to the track.
Once at the track they unloaded the modified but it was just to "look" as
far as I was concerned. Modifieds were racing a non-sanctioned
race that night, but I was content to race the street stock as I was top 3
in points. After some discussion, the car was started.
Then everyone began saying, "you have to go out in it." I was
NOT ready for that. In no way did I think I was ready.
It took a good 30 minutes to talk me into it. Jason Pike gave me
some instructions about getting it into gear and the fuel light on the dash.
"If that green light comes on, you need to shut the car down as it means you
have no fuel pressure and it will burn up the engine." No
problem! YEAH RIGHT! I was sick to my stomach when I
pulled out for my heat, tagging of course. I lagged behind and
holy cow did the car set me back in the seat. The corner came up
so quickly I didn't know what hit me. I was doing ok and when things
finally settled down a couple laps in I saw the green glimmer on the dash.
I shut it down and coasted off. Everyone rushed to the car.
"What's wrong? Are you scared? Huh?" I
explained the light and they instantly say, "did it stay on or just
flicker?" I said, it was flickering. "Oh well, that's ok,
just so that it doesn't stay on!" OHHHH, stay on and come
on are different. My mistake. But hey it got me off
the track in that monster!! haha. Figuring they
would have been scared enough I got ready for the street stock race.
To which they inform me, "we'll have the modified ready in the line for you
when it is over." I was ready to puke on the spot. I
had to get in it again?? Tonight??? Oh boy. So
after finishing 5th in the street stock I reluctantly climbed aboard the
modified. Starting 17th out of 17 I decided to stay back.
Huge wreck. In the restart I was aligned about 10th.
Right in the middle. I kept waving cars by but only about 4 went
by. The rest was all a blur. After a few laps I was
doing ok and things were beginning to slow down. My neck was
already hurting from the added speed in the corners and I was still as
nervous as a mouse in a snake pit. To my surprise I was working
my way up. I had caught the 5th place car and caught him fast.
Entering turn 3 he hit the brakes MUCH sooner than I had anticipated or I
was going much faster than I was used to and I used up his rear and my front
bumper. WHOOPS! I passed him the next turn and with
about 5 laps to go I was, get this, in 2nd place about 1/2 a lap behind
Jason Pike. The next turn my lack of talent caught up with me
and I did a half spin into the infield and came out in 6th. I
finished there! I remember I couldn't even get my helmet off
afterwards because I was shaking so bad. I wound up never
driving the street stock again! |
| |
| November 11, 2007 |
|
FIRST CONCUSSION LENDS EXTRA DISCUSSION! |
My street stock days were probably the most trying for
us all as my learning curve was very steep. Not only was I
learning how to get around the race track, I was learning how to simply
race. Many times we left the track on the hook before half-way,
limped off the track with flat tires, or got the big push when the engine
lost fire. In 1995 I had a good season, winning 3 times late in
the year. The point season extended through October so we hit
the track for season finale. Early in the feature event traffic
bottled up and I slid to a stop to avoid hitting another car.
The car was formerly a bomber (large car) that had been moved up when the
class was discontinued. As I slid to avoid it I hit it.
At the exact same time I was throttled from behind jarring my body in
multiple ways. I was up in the season standings and we wanted to
protect our position so I exited the track and the crew went to work fixing
the damage. I went back out for a few laps only to have the
radiator start spewing water back at me while racing, so I was forced to
pull off. Soon after pulling off I got a nasty headache while
walking around the pit. I sat on the back of the truck, then
layed down. It was getting worse, MUCH worse. Mom called
over the safety crew and they came over. I kept telling my mom
to not call them over as I didn't want a scene. I could no
longer open my eyes it hurt so badly. Not to mention my lower
back was starting to throb. All through the ordeal I kept
emphasizing that I would go to the hospital "later" saying that I don't want
to cause a stir in the pits. My mom assured me no one was
watching all the activity, not to worry. I made one final
attempt saying "it feels like there is 100 people here now," to which she
said, "oh it's just us, I don't know what you are talking about."
Was strapped to a backboard and headed in the ambulance to the hospital in
Pahrump. I remember hearing the siren blaring and speeding down
the road. The first turn was a good one as the bed wheels
weren't locked down so the bed slammed to the right only to slam back to the
left at the next turn. After some brief discussion the wheels
were finally locked. At the hospital I was placed into a room,
still unable to open my eyes. Someone was "called in from
home" to take X-rays. She wheeled me into the room in a
wheel-chair to take the X-rays. I was informed I would have to stand
up against the machine to get the X-rays to which I replied I think it will
make me sick to stand up. So up I went and she ran to flip the
switch......too late.....what to you know, IT DID MAKE ME SICK TO STAND UP!!
Clean up in the X-ray room. You could tell she was TICKED!!
Called in from home LATE on a Saturday night and this guy pukes all over.
YIKES, sorry lady. Up again.......UH OH.........back in the
chair. Near miss. After 4 or 5 attempts and three
hits of the garbage can, I was X-rayed and on my way home. I had
a concussion and a minor back strain with good ole whip lash.
I slept the whole way home and most of the next morning. I woke
up to the phone ringing, and ringing, and ringing. I was barely
18 and still staying at home so I was wondering why no one was answering.
Still feeling groggy and in some pain I managed to wander down the hallway
and answered forever ringing phone.
Hello?...........Dan.......yeah.......what are you doing answering the
phone?!!!.........uhhh, it was ringing a lot.......oh, man glad you are
ok.......yeah.....man, there must have been 200 people in your pit watching
the whole thing! WHAT?!!! Oh man, mom was in
trouble!!!
I recovered without issue and was back to racing two weeks later.
One week later I was helping local racer Wayne Jacks in Sonoma CA as he was
racing the Craftsman truck series event there. I was still
suffering the effects and getting sick in between pit stops, but I was
there.
The final leg of this story came about 3 or 4 months ago as I discussed the
event with Kelly in the room. She seemed like she knew some of
the story........turns out she was the NURSE at the hospital that night.
HAHA!! What a small world. |
| |
|
WATCHA WAVIN' AT? |
| A few years ago while at the Duel in the Desert at Las
Vegas Motor Speedway I had another "Dan" moment. It was the 2nd
day of the two day show and I opted not to practice as the track was a
little on the soupy side. So we went to the pit stands to take
in some of the action. We were able to acquire the prime spots
atop the bleachers and had a bird's eye view of the track. A
couple of sessions hit the track and nothing really exciting happened so we
continued watching. As the track shaped up, the action increased
and we were all ooooo-ing and ahhhhing while at times wincing.
The final session had quite a few of the "big name" drivers in it and I was
intently watching one of these drivers during their laps to see if I could
glean any good information from their line. I was concentrating
so hard that I almost became the driver. I had taken myself to
another place and was right along inside the car as the driver turned laps.
Coming off turn 2 there was an accident happening right in front of the car
I was watching. As the car slowed to avoid the accident my
natural reaction was to start waving my right hand back and forth to signal
those behind that there is trouble ahead. It helps let drivers
know that you are slowing for something. The only problem was I
was standing atop the grandstands. Who needed to be warned of
the impending danger? Damned if I know, but I was warning
everyone. Yes I felt like an idiot, but hey, if you can't laugh
at yourself you are too serious anyway right? Hope you
enjoyed that one! |
| |
|
BEACH FRONT PIT SPACE? |
| During my rookie IMCA modified season (1997) I was
convinced to travel to Ventura Raceway in Ventura, CA. for a Thursday night
fair race. As we headed out of town we were about 30 miles from
town when my dad's truck began slowing and eventually smoking.
Upon further investigation we found that the brakes were locked up in the
rear. After removing the rear tires and prying for about 2 hours
we were finally able to free the brake drums from the vehicle.
It seems as though there was a problem with the self adjusters and whenever
you stepped on the brakes, the brakes would tighten even more.
About 3 hours later we were on our way. 5 hours later we combed
the shoreline for this race track in Ventura. To no avail, we
couldn't find it anywhere. All we knew was that it was in
Ventura's Fairgrounds and that it was "right on the beach".
Several gas station attendant directions later, we arrived at the track.
Just minutes before the pit gates closed. 38 modifieds lined the
pits and during the driver's meeting I found out that just 16, yes 16 would
qualify for the feature event. Holy cow!! Was supposed to
start 6th in my heat but when the two cars on my outside line broke or
didn't start, that landed me on the outside pole for the heat.
The track is a 1/5, yes 1/5 track where you find yourself turning the entire
time. No time to rest on the straights. At the green
I jumped into the lead and was running scared. By about 1/2 way
I was threatened on the inside by Mike Johnson. We waged a
fierce battle door to door before I finally held him off going to the
checkered. That placed me in the 12 spot for the feature.
In the feature everyone was running the quicker outside groove so I put
myself at the bottom. Slowly but surely I climbed all the way to
3rd on the final lap before bobbling just slightly and finishing up 4th.
A great run for a rookie. While there we couldn't help but be
amazed that the ocean was a stone's throw from our pit. From the
pit grandstands you can watch sea life in the ocean, surfers taking the
waves, and oil rigs off in the distance. Great beach front pit
space there!! |
| |
|
SPEAKING OF WEATHER...... |
| The weather this weekend has reminded me of another 87N
team moment. In late 2002 we were attending the final IMCA
point race of the season at Mohave Valley Raceway. My friend
Carly was making her first racing trip with us and as we headed to the track
under sunny skies we took notice of a single thunder storm that was dumping
on the mountain off in the distance. After a top 3 finish in the
feature we learned that my engine had been claimed by another driver (in a
borrowed car no less). While pulling the motor I remember all of
us having to explain what was going on to Carly as she was quite bewildered
by the whole thing. It was also Blake's first time experiencing
a claim. We loaded up, much lighter, and hit the road back home
just after midnight. The road from I-40 to Vegas is a small two
lane road with many dips and curves. Many signs warn of possible
flash flooding, but under clear skies who gives those a second thought?
We should have! Rounding the curves and popping in and out
of the dips at 70mph the conversation of the evening's events was in full
swing. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw something off
the side of the road that looked like it was floating. Odd.
Kind of like a huge piece of trash just floating through the desert.
I thought, 'I must be really tired.' About that same instant
Blake hollers, "Water! Water!!" It's too late. As we
crest the next dip in the road there it is. A raging river of
water flowing through the wash, covering at least 300 feet of roadway.
I lifted off the accelerator and we slammed into the fast moving water.
I kept the wheel positioned straight ahead and we floated a good 100-150
feet across the water before the truck sunk about 6 to 8 inches.
We obviously had hydroplaned for the first part of the ride. As
the truck sunk into the water a huge wave of water flew over the nose of the
truck completely darkening the window with a murky layer of mud.
I couldn't see anything. Out of the deafening silence in the
truck as everyone made right with their maker I hear Blake saying, "I can
see yellow line, I can see yellow line." Our momentum had
carried us across the wash and back onto the dry side of the highway.
Slowly I pulled the truck over to the side of the road still not aware that
I hadn't taken a breath since before hitting the water.
The first words out of my mouth were, "sorry guys!" The truck
came to a stop, the doors opened and we all had to pry our puckered butts
off the seat cushions. Another 4X4 had stopped a few feet ahead of us
and was checking the damage to his truck. The splash of water
from hitting it at 70mph had ripped his windshield wipers from their mounts.
After a few moments of taking everything in we all couldn't help but laugh
at the whole experience. We cheated death while getting glimpses
of our lives right before our eyes. About 10 minutes later
our heart rates had settled down long enough to allow us back into the truck
and on our way home. We used the cell phone to contact highway patrol
to tell them of the dangerous condition on the roadway. Just
afterwards we passed a poor chap on a motorcycle heading in that direction.
We flashed our lights at him, but what else could we do?
30 miles down the road we stopped at the Chevron station for a much needed
restroom break. As we approached the entrance there was a
hippie-type guy going crazy over something and pointing up. A
huge tarantula was climbing the building right above the doorway.
Creepy. After using the facilities we returned to the truck to
continue on. As we chit chatted waiting for everyone to exit the
store we glanced out in the distance to see something out there.
Sure enough a coyote could be seen about 20 feet from us through a pair of
glaring red eyes. We quickly entered the vehicle and headed
home, hoping to put this full moon night behind us!! |
| |
| THAT
VOO-DOO THAT YOU DO! |
| In July of 2004 were were racing at Pahrump Valley
Speedway and the points race was a tight one. On a hot summer
night we hit the track for the heat race. The car was good for a
few laps and then began to lose power. I caught a brief glimpse
of smoke coming from the right side of the car and shut it down to coast
into the pits. Once in the pit we realized it was terminal, a
hole in the piston. We had two options, run the car for a
few laps in the main and maybe get better than last place points (if someone
wrecked or broke) or just take the last place points we would get for
starting the heat and change motors for the next day of racing.
After a few moments of thinking, I decided we were going to change the
motors and just be ready for the next night. We started changing
motors with a huge hope we could make the feature but we all knew it would
be a tall task. The spare motor was not as good horsepower-wise
as the motor coming out so we would also need to change gears.
The crew, Jerry, Blake, Kelly, visiting Kim, my mom and myself began the
task of changing the motor. (Dad was ill and had stayed home,
LUCKY!) Mom and I went to change the gears and everyone else set
to taking the motor out. By intermission we had the motor out
and were preparing the spare to go in. Just as racing was ready
to get back underway, the lights went out. Bonus.
Bought us some time. We thrashed and thrashed and now Ronnie "Monster"
Williams jumped in to lend a hand. Gears were changed and we now
started putting the motor in. Racing was back underway.
We had two main events to go until we were up. The first main went by
without a yellow flag and was done in about 10 minutes. Still
putting in the radiator and tightening the motor mounts things were looking
bleak. We continued working knowing that we weren't only under the
gun, but more like half way down the barrel. The 2nd main event
had a yellow early, then some racing. We were still tightening
bolts and trying to time the car when the modifieds were about to be fired
up. I sent my mom to beg for 5 minutes, just 5 minutes please.
She headed over and was granted just that, 5 minutes as the promoter looked
at his watch to gauge the time. I flew into my suit and
slid into the driver's seat. The car was fired and the timing
was set. Water was being put into the radiator and tools were
flying as the finishing touches were put on the engine. The
modifieds fired up. YIKES. The hood went on,
the aircleaner was next and the nut was tightened. I fired the
car and got to the line up just as the last car entered the track.
I was motioned to continue on, I made it! WHEW!
Joined the end of the field and took my first breath in probably the last 10
minutes as we got the signal for one to go. The track had dried
up in the hot evening air which was perfect for the not-so powerful motor.
At the green I used the bottom to move up quickly. I could catch
glimpses of the crew as I came out of turn 2 and as tired as they were you
could see them jumping and cheering me on. As I moved into third
I began to think I had a chance to win. Two laps later I
was right on the bumper of the leader. The next lap I was able
to slip inside the leader to take over 1st. As I rounded turns 1
& 2 on the next lap my crew was beside themselves on the sidelines.
I went on to win the race that night much to the delight of everyone who had
worked so hard to get the car going. To this day there are
still people who wonder how we made it and there is an odd suspicion out
there as to how and why the lights went out that night. Did we
do it? Did someone do it for us? We were all too
busy to have done it, but for some reason it all worked out perfectly.
Good times! |
| |
|
THERE'S A ROAD ON THE MAP! |
| In early 2002 we were trying to get our JetMod up and
running but things were going a little slower than usual so we were forced
to race our 2001 URE Chassis at the first couple of Winter Series events at
Canyon Raceway. With it being just after the World Trade Center
attacks, Hoover Dam was closed off to trailers like ours. That
forced us to take a much longer route to Canyon Raceway than normal.
So I checked out the map and found road that would like us from Interstate
40 to the backside of a town called Wikieup, Arizona. Looked like a
great way to cut off some mileage. So myself, Blake, Carly, and
Jim Bodell loaded up the car and headed out around 5am for the noon start
time at the track. After a few hours we reached the turn for the road
and we made our way there. Things were great, although it was
only a two-lane road. Great things turned sour after about 20
minutes or so as the pavement ends sign sparked fear in me. Sure
enough the pavement ended. Abruptly too. What do we
do? Well, we were already 20-25 minutes into this road and the
dirt wasn't that bad. It was actually pretty smooth.
We stayed on the road. It was funny, yet odd as well.
We passed a tractor and a herd of cattle. In fact we stopped to
have our pictures taken with the cattle, just in case no one would believe
us. Further down the road we all laughed as a regular green highway
sign signaled us to turn left to head towards Wikieup. It even said
that we were 15 miles from Wikieup. About 2 hours later we were
in Wikieup. No time was saved but I had no indication that the
road was a dirt one. We arrived at the track barely in time to
head out to pack the track in and for hot laps. The second lap
of hot laps, the car sputtered and quit running. As we searched
for the problem we missed our heat race. With over 60 cars in
the pits, the heat was critical for placing us into one of the alphabet
mains. After some help from a few guys in the pits, we were able to
find the problem and fix it. It was the distributor.
Missing the heat forced me to tag the D main with only the top 4
transferring to the C. I lined up in the 19th spot and after 15
laps found myself in the 3rd spot and transferring to the C main.
Lined up 23rd in the C main and again needed a top 4 to advance further.
Wouldn't you know I was in the 3rd spot again when the checkered flag waved.
Lined up 23rd for the B main and this time only needed a top 15 spot to
transfer. Wound up 10th which would place me 19th in the A main.
A broken shock early in the A main would relegate me to that 19th place
finish but it was a great end to an interesting day. A long day
as well. Lots of fun was had as we fought and clawed our way
back to make the A main. |
| |
| 07/23/06 |
|
BRRRRR THAT'S COLD! |
| Having to go back in the day for this Team Moment.
In 1996 I was racing street stocks at Pahrump Valley Speedway.
The exhaust of the car ran right under the seat and the automatic
transmission really helped to heat up the floorboard while racing.
It wasn't so bad in the spring and early summer, but when the 115 degree
temperatures rolled in during the summer it got pretty hot inside the car.
Our races were full of cars, 20-24, and this made the races long as multiple
yellows were common. I noticed that I would get incredibly
thirsty during the races so we started trying to figure out a way to keep me
hydrated. At first I tried wedging a squirt topped water bottle
between my body and the seat. Under yellow I could
grab the bottle, take a drink and wedge it back in. This worked
for a race or two until it came out and started rolling around under my feet
and the pedals. Nixed that idea and decided to mount a cannister
by the seat on the floor board. We would stick the bottle in the
holder and I could easily grab it and get some water when needed.
Cool idea, but again it flew out. So the next week we added some
padding to the cannister to make it a more snug fit for the bottle.
That worked great......well to a point. It certainly kept the
bottle in the cannister but there was one flaw. With it being
mounted to the floorboard and the floorboard getting hot, so did the bottle
and so did the water. After scalding my tongue on the 100
degree water late during the race we decided to try something else.
We mounted a small thermos type cooler up high in the car next to the seat.
We ran a hose from the cooler to me and clipped the hose to my seat belts
after buckling in. Great idea! Or was it?
It was actually great for a few races. Was able to easily find
the hose and could get drinks during the races and the water remained cold
as it was mounted away from the heated floorboard. About 3 races
in the track got a little rough. A couple of laps into the race
I was racing along with the water hose clipped to my belts and all was good.
Heading down the back stretch I began to feel something very cool on my
stomach. The 'coolness' was spreading fast as my lap was now
covered in the chill. Holy cow was it cold. It
wasn't stopping either. BRRRRRRR this is pretty unbearable.
Seems that in the jarring around from the rutted track, the water hose
became unclipped from my belts. It fell down pointing at my
stomach. With it's downward slant and the water being mounted
well above my shoulders a unique phenomena began to take place.
It's called siphoning. With it being early in the race, the
water jug was FULL and ICED down rather well. Soon into
the race I was too! Finished the race and for once I was glad
that I didn't win. It would be hard to explain a water stain in
the area I had one. BRRRRRR! |
| |
| 07/12/06 |
|
HOTEL TRAPS! |
| Over the years I've stayed in my fair share of hotels /
motels. On a couple of occasions, however, I had some slight
problems with the restrooms. The first incident happened
following a race in Victorville, CA. I was leading the feature
by about 1/2 a lap when the engine let go. Coasted off the track
and into the pits. We were planning a trip to Six Flags
Magic Mountain the next day but I was in no mood to have fun following the
bad luck. We flipped a coin and the coin flip said that we
continue on with our plans to head to Six Flags. Left the track
that night and headed to Palmdale, CA to acquire a hotel room.
Got settled in the room and went to sleep for the night. During
the night nature called and I headed to the restroom. Not wanting to
wake people up I didn't turn on the light until I got inside.
Once finished I flushed and turned off the light. Went to get
out of the restroom and that's where things went wrong. Mind you
it's about 2 in the morning after a long day at the track, I was tired.
I pulled on the door to open it and it wasn't budging. Tried
pulling harder and harder and nothing. Granted, the door opened
outward, but I was trying like crazy to get it to open in. Still not
wanting to wake people I didn't call for help, instead wondered how I would
sleep in the bathroom all night since the door wouldn't open.
At one time I even pushed the door open and slammed it shut trying to get it
to open to the inside. Finally, I came to my senses and
opened the door the correct way freeing myself. Yes, I was
tired....that's what I'm sticking with. In the morning I
explained my ordeal and everyone laughed as they remembered hearing the door
slam during the night but went back to sleep thinking it was in the hallway
outside the room. The 2nd incident happened about
two years later as we traveled to Fallon, NV for another race.
We raced there and headed back about 70 miles to a town called Hawthorne,
NV. The room is an older room with some really fun retro
furniture. Outside the restroom they have a lattice type
woodwork separating where there is a mirror and table outside of the
restroom. To get to the restroom you have to walk around the
woodwork and through an opening to get to the door. Easier
said than done. During the night, nature called and I headed to the
restroom. Again, I'm going to fall back on the 'I was tired'
excuse, but I made it to the woodwork. For some reason I began
putting my hands through the holes in the woodwork looking for a doorknob.
Of course I couldn't find it yet I tried for countless minutes trying to
find one. Through all of my searching nature began calling more
urgently. Finally, just before panic set in, someone turned on
the light and asked, "what the heck are you doing?" As my
eyes adjusted to the light, I realized how to get to the restroom and found
my way in. Whoops! To this day I'm still teased
about my restroom incidents. The 3rd incident happened in
Wickenburg, AZ. For some reason we were given the
handicapped room. Nothing wrong with it, but I was not familiar
with the different amenities afforded those with disabilities.
In this case it was the shower that did me in. First off, there
was a seat in the shower. Secondly the shower head wasn't the
normal attached to the wall kind, instead it was on a chord. The
detachable showerhead was on a rod on the wall which allowed the showerhead
to be moved up and down. The showerhead would slide down
the rod until it was about 3 feet off the shower floor. I moved
it up to about 5 feet and tried showering. However the
showerhead would slide right back down. I was having a hard time
showering and rinsing with the showerhead just 3 feet off the floor.
Long story short I ended up doing a great limbo in order to get showered and
rinsed that day. How stupid I felt when everyone informed
me that if I had just pulled the showerhead a little further up the rod it
would have come off and I could have held it in my hand. DUH!!
I consider myself a semi-intelligent person, but after reading this I'm not
so sure that's true! |
| |
| 06/29/06 |
| I'M
TRAPPED! |
| Going back to 1999 I had a "I'm trapped" moment and it
will not be the last "trapped" moment I share on here. We were
racing at Mohave Valley Raceway in early summer which is the monsoon season
around these parts. Shortly after arriving at the race track the
races were called and we were left scrambling for somewhere to go.
It was decided we would make a hurried trip to Victorville, CA. which was
about 175 miles from Mohave Valley. We were towing with an older
80's truck and still had the smaller enclosed trailer but little did we know
that the trip was basically uphill the entire way. It was
already after 5:00 and the races in Victorville started at 7:00.
We were going to be late, just hopefully not too late to tag the main.
On the way up to Victorville we ran into some heavy rain which slowed us
down even more as the windshield wipers could not keep up. Some
motorcyclists had stopped and ducked for cover under an overpass but we kept
on trucking. Jason Pike had also decided to make the trip but
was towing with a semi-tractor and was far ahead of us. When we
finally arrived at the track, panic set in. Boy were we late.
It was about 8:30 and the modified main event was already lined up and ready
to go. The street stocks were over half way in their event and
the modifieds were next. Jason Pike had been there long
enough to already have run his heat race. Unloaded the car,
threw on a few tear-offs and jumped into my safety gear.
Didn't even have time to set the tire pressures as time was wasting.
An official was standing in our pit telling us to hurry it up.
Out of breath and almost in a panic I started the car and headed to the line
up. As I hit the long staging line the cars were already heading
to the track. I hurried along and pulled onto the track as the
cars were already exiting turn 2. I had never been to
Victorville's race track before so I was trying to take in everything as I
made my way out on the track. The flagman was waving me up and
giving the signal of 1 to go. Caught up to the field just in
time to take the green flag and the race was on. The race would
go caution free and I was able to come from 14th to 3rd by races end.
Missing the driver's meeting and having never been to the track before I had
no idea what to do next. Where was the claim area? Post
tech? But I soon found that wasn't as much of a problem as I had
a bigger one. I didn't know where the track exit was!!!
The walls were painted in a checkered board pattern and I couldn't find the
break. After taking the checkered I passed the 2nd place
car to go give the winner a thumbs up as a congrats. As he
picked up the checkered flag, I was ahead of the rest of the cars and went
looking for the exit. Went around a lap and couldn't find it.
It was like being in the twilight zone as I just couldn't make out the break
in the wall. I was young too!! You'd think my eyes would
be able to pick it out. I wound up having to wait for the
winner to pass by with the checkered and then followed him off the track.
Turns out it was right at the entrance to turn 1. Whoops!
Followed the winner to the tech pad, collected 3rd place and headed home.
|
| |
| June 19, 2006 |
|
GRAND INTRODUCTION! |
| After a few races on the pavement in my 1973 4-door Ford
Maverik, we decided to join a few other racers that were heading to Pahrump
to race on the dirt. I had never even been to the Pahrump track
before, let alone raced on dirt. In fact, I hadn't really raced
pavement as I stunk so bad you couldn't even consider what I did racing.
But we put a screen in and headed over the hump to the track.
There was about 12 cars there, all of them competitors from the pavement.
I was nervous but probably too young to realize just how crazy this idea
was. Young and dumb is how they normally put it. The
race was during the day so the track was drying out quickly.
They watered the track again and we went out to pack it. YUCK!
Mud was everywhere and we weren't used to that. After scraping
off all we could, it was time for hot laps. I did ok, but was a
little on the slow side as the track was shorter and I was geared for the
larger pavement track. It was decided that I should run the car
in 2nd gear rather than drive. Time for the heat race.
They watered before we took to the track and they did driver introductions
and the national anthem for the first heat on the track. That
was me. I was inside row two and we rolled onto the track
stopping just under the flagstand. There was at least 100 people
in the stands, maybe even 200. I noticed that the track was
really slippery when we went onto the track but I stayed in the tracks of
the car in front of me and had no problems getting into the line up
position. They played the national anthem and the flagman went
over to the pole sitter. They announced his name, sponsors and
the crowd cheered. Same thing for the outside pole car.
Just as the flagman was making his way over to my car I began to hear a
creaking noise. At first it was just a slight creak, but after a
few seconds it became more of a moan. I had no idea what was
going on. Then it became all too clear. The car was
beginning to slide on the wet surface. The flagman came to stand
by the driver's door but quickly had to jump out of the way as the car began
a four wheel slide to the infield. There was nothing I could do
but ride it out. Within 10 seconds I had slid all the way to the
infield berm which abruptly stopped the car's slide. How
embarassing!! Everyone's attention was focused on me as I was
next to be announced. The flagman made his way down to the car,
snickering a little as he did so. As if that wasn't enough
already, the slick track kicked my butt in the heat race as I spun several
times, getting hit hard by another car on one of those spins.
For the main, I started in the last row and found the track much less wet
and much more tolerable. I was hung in there, passed a couple of
cars and was one of 7 cars to finish. I wound up 5th.
|
| |
| June 7, 2006 |
|
SHOULD HAVE SIGNALED FOR ME TO STOP!! |
| I tried stock car racing when I was about 16 and it
certainly didn't seem like the thing for me to do at first. My
first night out in a stock car I pushed high coming off turn 2 at the "old"
Bullring at LVMS and destroyed a bomber-type Ford LTD. Within
the two weeks between races my dad talked the guy down the street out of his
1973 four door Maverick. By the next race we had the car ready
to race with the motor from the LTD. We had to grind the exhaust
manifolds down just to get it to fit in the smaller car. But we
made it work. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing
once I got onto the track. I knew to try and go fast and that I
had to turn left, but for the most part I was scared out of my mind.
My dad and friends would stand against the fence coming out of turn 4.
I spent a lot of my time exiting turn 4 looking over there for signals,
support, and who knows what else. One time in particular it was
to my total humiliation.
As the cars rounded the track under yellow, I was towards the back (as
usual then) and following the car of current LVMS Super Late Model driver
Thane Alderman. We have similar roots! LOL.
Anyway I had been hit during the previous green flag run and was concerned
that there may be something wrong. Under the yellow I kept
looking at the fence to see if they were waving me in. After 3
or 4 laps you would think that I had got the hint that everything was fine.
But no. Of course not. Instead I kept looking over there.
Well as I rounded the corner for about the 7th or 8th time under the caution
I again looked to the fence. As my eyes returned to the racing
surface I noticed a huge black and red spot getting closer and closer,
faster and faster. Next thing you hear is tires squealing
followed by a huge crunch. I hit Thane. He had
stopped as the track tried to align the cars. I didn't. As
if it wasn't bad enough that I hit him under caution, it got worse.
The impact occured right in front of my father and friends. Next
thing I hear is "what the hell are you doing?!" Whoops.
To further complicate matters, I looked forward and could see Thane looking
in his rear-view mirror at me. I'm not sure, but I think it was
also the "what the hell are you doing?!" look. Thane's car was a
larger car than mine so my car had gone under his car. In fact,
his rear bumper was sitting in the middle of my hood. I
reluctantly backed up, as I would have rather crawled under a rock
somewhere. Dad and the friends checked out the car and told me
to continue on. I did, finished the race, and cringe every time
I see someone run into someone else under caution. Reminds me of
this story EVERY time. |
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