A perfect summer Friday night. Some people like to hang out on a patio with cold drinks. Some like to catch the latest blockbuster movie. Some head up to the lake for a weekend in the bush. Me, I like racing. Dirty, fast and loud. I had my first taste of the season this past Friday and I can't wait to get back.
My mom picked me up from work at 11:30. We came home, changed, threw some things in Truck and headed south to Grand Forks, ND. My dad had left earlier that morning with the motor home and Elmo. The drive takes about two hours. It's pretty boring, frankly. The scenery consists of farmers' fields, occasional overpasses and roadkill (which always makes me feel sad).
Grand Forks is a small city with a population of about 50,000. On Friday nights people from all around the area make their way to the speedway to watch four classes of cars chase each other around a 1/4 mile track made of dirt. There's a small green space on the east side of the track affectionately known as Little Canada, where Winnipeg fans and drivers park their motor homes for the night. Most are regulars and old friends who will greet you with a cold, cheap American beer (sometimes a Canadian one if you're lucky).
When we were 18/19 my friend Michael and I drove down a few times just for the night. After the race we hung out in the pits for bit, said hi to some people he knew and then headed home around midnight. Micheal's parents, Joyce and Mike park their motor home at the track for most of the season. Shortly after my mom and I arrived, Mike pulled up in his black Ford truck. My dad put Elmo on his leash and walked over to say hi. My mom and I couldn't believe dad was walking Elmo around. He just doesn't do that. I took a few quick pictures of the rare scene.
We weren't sure if the races were going to run that night. It had been raining off and on all afternoon and the skies still looked threatening. It was sprinkling again at 6:30 when the hot laps were supposed to be starting. Hot l
aps are a chance for drivers to test out their cars and see what kind of condition the track is in.
In between the rain clouds I took some pictures of the haulers pulling in and life around Little Canada. Mom baked a Papa John's pizza.
If you saw one of the rigs that drivers haul their cars around in out of context, you might think it was a truck and trailer going to a movie shoot. On the outside they're non-descript motor homes with a matching trailer. Inside, they're pretty tricked up. Racing is an expensive sport so only a few of the more successful drivers have the customized rides. And don't be fooled by the plain shell. Inside there's a flashy and powerful beast--sometimes that's just the driver.
The skies held in and the first heat started almost on schedule. They run four classes in Grand Forks. The street stocks are the entry class. Some cars are just a few steps above what you'd see in a demolition derby. Modifieds are funny looking cars that appear to have their front fenders missing and a short back end. The late models closely resemble the stock cars you'd see in NASCAR. The last to run are the sprints, which are funny looking small bodied cars with two big wheels in the back, two small wheels in the front, and a big wing on top of the car.
As the race night goes on, each class gets progressively faster and louder. The streets are like the opening act in a concert. They warm the crowd up a bit or sometimes just get annoying when it seems that they can't get one lap in without someone drawing a caution flag.
The lates and the sprints are my favourite to watch. They're fast, loud, flashy, and the driver skill level is impressive. When I was younger I used to beg my mom to let me go to watch a race but she always told me I wouldn't like it because it would be too loud. Crazy as it is, I think I like the sound the best. The roar is like a freight train and it rumbles against your chest when the cars reach full speed at around 120 mph. There's also nothing like the smell of burning methanol--the fuel that the sprints and lates use. It smells only slightly acrid and actually a little sweet.
Because of all the rain in the area over the past week, the track was pretty tacky--perfect maybe for a spa mud bath treatment but challenging to drive on. Usually when I've gone the track has been dry, which means when you go home your face is lightly dusted with black dirt and you'll blow black snot out of your nose. You can only imagine how the drivers manage to see through the dirt--cakey or dusty. Most use tear offs on their helmet visors--a stack of plastic films they can pull off as they get dirty. If you've never been to a race before, regardless of the track condition I'd advise you not to take any of the front row seats unless you feel you didn't eat enough dirt when you were a kid.
There weren't many Winnipeg guys to cheer for that night but Mike Balcaen (of the Balcaen and Sons Plumbing, Heating and Air conditioning company in Winnipeg) picked up first place in the late model features race. It didn't seem to matter to anyone watching that he's Canadian. The crowd was just happy with the show.
For the sprints race I like to watch the young and talented Mark Dobmier. He always takes the back of the pack challenge and I think I've only seen him lose it once when his drive shaft fell off. He took it again on Friday night and worked his way up to first place to take the checkered flag. He moves around the other cars as if they are stuck on second gear. My dad was cheering for Lou Kennedy Jr., the Winnipeg representative. Lou was doing well until he ran into the back of another guy and flipped his car. What a wreck.
After all the races were run, dad and I walked around in the pits a bit. Mom headed back to the motor home to check on Elmo. The pits are where fans get to talk to their favourite drivers about the wins, the losses,the awesome passes and the crashes. Some drivers are pretty friendly, others are just there to assess damages and pack up. It's a bit weird that the cars look so big from my seat in the stands yet so small and simple up close.
My mom picked me up from work at 11:30. We came home, changed, threw some things in Truck and headed south to Grand Forks, ND. My dad had left earlier that morning with the motor home and Elmo. The drive takes about two hours. It's pretty boring, frankly. The scenery consists of farmers' fields, occasional overpasses and roadkill (which always makes me feel sad).
Grand Forks is a small city with a population of about 50,000. On Friday nights people from all around the area make their way to the speedway to watch four classes of cars chase each other around a 1/4 mile track made of dirt. There's a small green space on the east side of the track affectionately known as Little Canada, where Winnipeg fans and drivers park their motor homes for the night. Most are regulars and old friends who will greet you with a cold, cheap American beer (sometimes a Canadian one if you're lucky).
When we were 18/19 my friend Michael and I drove down a few times just for the night. After the race we hung out in the pits for bit, said hi to some people he knew and then headed home around midnight. Micheal's parents, Joyce and Mike park their motor home at the track for most of the season. Shortly after my mom and I arrived, Mike pulled up in his black Ford truck. My dad put Elmo on his leash and walked over to say hi. My mom and I couldn't believe dad was walking Elmo around. He just doesn't do that. I took a few quick pictures of the rare scene.We weren't sure if the races were going to run that night. It had been raining off and on all afternoon and the skies still looked threatening. It was sprinkling again at 6:30 when the hot laps were supposed to be starting. Hot l
aps are a chance for drivers to test out their cars and see what kind of condition the track is in.In between the rain clouds I took some pictures of the haulers pulling in and life around Little Canada. Mom baked a Papa John's pizza.
If you saw one of the rigs that drivers haul their cars around in out of context, you might think it was a truck and trailer going to a movie shoot. On the outside they're non-descript motor homes with a matching trailer. Inside, they're pretty tricked up. Racing is an expensive sport so only a few of the more successful drivers have the customized rides. And don't be fooled by the plain shell. Inside there's a flashy and powerful beast--sometimes that's just the driver.
The skies held in and the first heat started almost on schedule. They run four classes in Grand Forks. The street stocks are the entry class. Some cars are just a few steps above what you'd see in a demolition derby. Modifieds are funny looking cars that appear to have their front fenders missing and a short back end. The late models closely resemble the stock cars you'd see in NASCAR. The last to run are the sprints, which are funny looking small bodied cars with two big wheels in the back, two small wheels in the front, and a big wing on top of the car.
As the race night goes on, each class gets progressively faster and louder. The streets are like the opening act in a concert. They warm the crowd up a bit or sometimes just get annoying when it seems that they can't get one lap in without someone drawing a caution flag.
The lates and the sprints are my favourite to watch. They're fast, loud, flashy, and the driver skill level is impressive. When I was younger I used to beg my mom to let me go to watch a race but she always told me I wouldn't like it because it would be too loud. Crazy as it is, I think I like the sound the best. The roar is like a freight train and it rumbles against your chest when the cars reach full speed at around 120 mph. There's also nothing like the smell of burning methanol--the fuel that the sprints and lates use. It smells only slightly acrid and actually a little sweet.Because of all the rain in the area over the past week, the track was pretty tacky--perfect maybe for a spa mud bath treatment but challenging to drive on. Usually when I've gone the track has been dry, which means when you go home your face is lightly dusted with black dirt and you'll blow black snot out of your nose. You can only imagine how the drivers manage to see through the dirt--cakey or dusty. Most use tear offs on their helmet visors--a stack of plastic films they can pull off as they get dirty. If you've never been to a race before, regardless of the track condition I'd advise you not to take any of the front row seats unless you feel you didn't eat enough dirt when you were a kid.
There weren't many Winnipeg guys to cheer for that night but Mike Balcaen (of the Balcaen and Sons Plumbing, Heating and Air conditioning company in Winnipeg) picked up first place in the late model features race. It didn't seem to matter to anyone watching that he's Canadian. The crowd was just happy with the show.
For the sprints race I like to watch the young and talented Mark Dobmier. He always takes the back of the pack challenge and I think I've only seen him lose it once when his drive shaft fell off. He took it again on Friday night and worked his way up to first place to take the checkered flag. He moves around the other cars as if they are stuck on second gear. My dad was cheering for Lou Kennedy Jr., the Winnipeg representative. Lou was doing well until he ran into the back of another guy and flipped his car. What a wreck.After all the races were run, dad and I walked around in the pits a bit. Mom headed back to the motor home to check on Elmo. The pits are where fans get to talk to their favourite drivers about the wins, the losses,the awesome passes and the crashes. Some drivers are pretty friendly, others are just there to assess damages and pack up. It's a bit weird that the cars look so big from my seat in the stands yet so small and simple up close.
I wish I knew better one of the drivers. I'd love to help out on a team in some way. My dad used to help one of his buddies with his late model car and I love listening to the old stories. I also have a dream to do some kind of documentary on dirt track racing. I think it would be fun to get together with a few friends and spend a few days talking with some drivers, track owners and fans.More pictures here
2 comments:
Papa John's pizza!? I can't believe you didn't dedicate an entire post on that subject. For some reason, I find it to be the best pizza in the world. I didn't realize you could take n bake it. Lucky you.
Aw, I fail this post. It was actually Papa Murphy's, not Papa John's Pizza. Too many Papas spoil the pie.
http://www.papamurphys.com/
http://www.papajohns.com/
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