Wild Wild June

WOW! Things have certainly been busy as of late and I will use that excuse when it comes to why I haven’t updated this blog that much during the month of June. Between a trip to Kansas, rain in Knoxville and nearly missing a flight in Minnesota, the sixth month of 2011 has been the craziest yet.

June 3^rd and 4^th saw us race in my home state of Kansas at the Belleville Highbanks and Lakeside Speedway. Two big half miles back to back proved who had power and who didn’t as Paul McMahan and Steve Kinser emerged with the checkers. A shout out to Knoxville regular Brian Brown though. That guy drove an awesome race at Lakeside, only to come up short on a restart. It was really cool to be back home in Kansas for a weekend. Even though we were in the Northeast corner and I am from the Southwest, I still saw plenty of folks I knew and even had a good friend (Ken Lutters) run the URSS race at Belleville which prompted many to ask, “Kyle, is that your grandpa racing?”

From there, it was on to the Mecca of Sprint Car Racing, Knoxville Raceway in Knoxville, Iowa. Friday brought rains which canceled the event for that evening. Justin Reimers saw fit to jump out of an ice box at me which led to several Mothers covering their children’s ears as I went on a profanity laced tirade while my banner hanging partner tried to stay on his feet despite extreme laughter. I also paid my first visit to the legendary Dingus bar. With the narrow hallways, and wide open patio, everyone from drivers to crews to fans were enjoying themselves immensely. Before anyone gets implicated, I’ll just say we all made it home safe and the cops were not called. It won’t be my last and we had an AWESOME time.

Saturday night was clear and the racing action was read hot as Sammy Swindell and Jason Sides duked it out on the famous black gumbo half mile over. Swindell took the checkers but Sides continued to prove to everyone that his name is certainly in the running for the 2011 title.

During the Knoxville weekend, I was able to sit down with Steve Kinser in the National Sprint Car Hall of Fame for a one on one interview for WorldofOutlaws.com. It was amazing to hear Steve talk about so many things. You really begin to realize that that man has stories from everywhere and could probably not run out for days or weeks on end.To hear Steve describe how Ted Johnson came up to him and asked him for forty dollars on a hot afternoon in Texas and have that be the beginnings of a tour that has gone around the world and now draws the interest of NASCAR stars and major corporations is just unbelievable.

The next stop on the tour was to the River Cities Speedway in Grand Forks, N.D. Rain almost got the best of us on Friday. Thankfully it got out of the area but we had to run an accelerated schedule the rest of the night an completed a full show in one and half hours. Talk about quick! Just as we settled in for a few cold ones, the rains began in earnest outside. The next night was dry and made for great racing but we didn’t get finished until after midnight and I was due to return to Charlotte early in the morning. I can’t explain it and I don’t know how he did it but somehow Johnny Gibson made it from Grand Forks, N.D. to Minneapolis, Minn. in time for me to hop on the plane. A whirlwind night indeed!

It was nice to be at home for a few days and you would think I would take the time to relax, sit by the pool and do nothing. Wrong! I recently purchased a ’94 Jeep Wrangler as a side project, something to work on when I want to get away from it all. Some people watch TV, some go on tropical vacations, Gump works on old dirty vehicles.

I spent the better part of Wednesday and Thursday stripping the “Red Rambler,” (We’re still working on the nick name for it. So far, iSore, Money Pit, Diablo Espanol, The Bleep) down to the steering wheel, gear shift and windshield. I think I cleaned at least 150 pounds worth of dirt, grease and old carpet out of that thing (and found a buck twenty seven in change.)

Several empty containers of Simple Green and Windex later, the Jeep has a shine to it and is awaiting a fuel pump and a turn signal switch. When I finally get it all fixed up, it’ll make for some nice topless drives through the winding hills of North Carolina with country music blaring through the speakers. It should also make my girlfriend, Maegan, quite a bit happier when I’m no longer spending, “hours upon hours working on an old beater.” (I can finally use the line, “It’s a Jeep Thing, You Just Wouldn’t Understand.”

As I write this, we are currently gearing up for all the racing action at Princeton Speedway. Guess we'll see if Dollansky can make it three in a row tonight.

- Gump

Full Size Sprint Car Experience

I was thinking it was bound to happen. Sooner or later, through "politicking" or sheer good fortune, I was going to be able to get behind the wheel of a full sized, World of Outlaws Sprint Car. My prior racing experience includes only a test drive in a Mini-Sprint that my good friend (and sometimes considered brother) John Campbell Jr. let me drive last summer at our home track in Garden City, Ks. It was a very cool experience but I always wanted to drive something bigger. I was given my chance tonight after the World of Outlaws agency challenge at the East Lincoln Speedway in North Carolina. We hosted a great event to hopefully get the word out about truly awesome our series are and I really think it went well. Part of the competition was a driving challenge with cars and instructors courtesy of the Dirt Track Racing School. With the guest filtering out, CEO Brian Carter came over to us and explained that we could take a ride in an instructor in a two seater sprint car or take the wheel ourselves in a Late Model.

The idea of driving appealed to me over riding so I selected the late model. As I suited up, I noticed the single seat sprint car sitting off to the side. I asked an instructor if a drive in the winged chariot was possible. He grinned and said, "yes." Off I went to prepare for my drive. I crawled into cramped quarters of the 1,400 pound speed machine. I don't know how the Outlaws get in and out of the thing multiple times in a night. It doesn't help that I have a 6 foot frame, with most of it being arms and legs. With a few bruises and scraped knuckles, I settled into the seat and found my belts. The five point harness would be strands of nylon that kept me planted into my cocoon. Next came the helmet. A black Bell would keep my ugly mug safe. Next came the arm straps and neck roll.

After a quick briefing from the instructor. I was rolled up to the entry way and was left to set a minute. It was strangely quiet and calming. I could see the late model making laps out on the track but I couldn't focus on that. I was focused on what my hands, feet and arms were about too. As I saw the Late Model pull off the track in turn three, I could feel the push truck make contact with the rear bumper of my sprinter. A great roar of a motor was the next thing I felt as I was pushed out onto the track from turn 4. I could feel the car fire and gave it a little gas to help it out. As I neared the start/finish line, I was under my own power and took off. I was amazed at how responsive the car was to even the smallest adjustments. I continued to idle around and take it easy for the first few laps.

As I came of turn 4 of lap 2, I decided it was time to be a hero or zero. One of my dreams in life was to hold a sprint car wide open. I did just that. It may have not looked fast but I did feel that rush of adrenaline that every driver talks about. The front end of the car rose off the ground and the roar of the motor was deafening. The front end came back down just in time to enter turn one and I was able to get a partial slide job going. I continued to try to hit my marks each lap, building up more bravery until I realized I was getting too cocky and almost took the wall out in turn one on lap 5. Eventually I saw the checkers and my ride was over. As I coasted to a stop off of turn two and waited for the four wheeler to push me back to the pits, I finally collected my thoughts. What a purpose built machine! With the stagger in the right rear, the car pretty much turns itself. The main job of the steering gear is to point the vehicle. You mostly steer the car with the throttle and how hard your push it down. Based on this and the angle and line in which you make it through the corner, the number of G forces on your body changes. I also learned that things happen extremely quickly. Driving this sprinter requires 100% focus the entire time. One slip up or false glance and you could go tumbling end over end. I took my eyes off the track once to catch a glance of the flagmen and nearly smacked the turn three wall.

After crawling out and reflecting on my experience, I have a tremendous amount of new found respect for those who race these machines at the high speeds and close quarters that they do. I certainly know that I would never have the nerve to race one on a regular basis. I also can't believe that anyone would ever say that all racing is is people driving in circles. If you are of that opinion, then go see the crew at the Dirt Track Racing School, take some laps and then see if you still say that.

All in all, it was a life experience that will leave a smile on my face for weeks to come. Certainly a great way to kick off the week before heading to Knoxville Raceway this weekend!

328 dollar towing bill at 3:30 a.m.

Have you ever lost something important and tried to find out hours later? It's nearly an impossible task isn't it? During our recent race at the I-96 Speedway, I made a big mistake; I lost my rental car keys. I can partially blame this on a scooter and a long night of racing but the whole mess started right after I had finished my race report for the night. I had begun to pack up my things so that I could head over to Grand Rapids for a few winks before having to get up and fly home. I searched throughout my bag for Toyota Yaris keys but the search was futile. Earlier in the day, I had ridden a scooter over to the car, which was sitting in the general parking area, amidst mud and puddles of water. I remembered locking the red micro machine and that was the last time I saw the keys.

Despite frantic searches and visits to the track office, my ticket to a getaway was gone. I pulled out my BlackBerry and called Hertz. I explained my situation and they informed me of the charges. I reluctantly agreed and they sent a tow rig on its way to the track. During this time, WoO Competition Director, Don Grabey, and I continued to comb the area with flashlights, making a last ditch effort to find them.

Eventually a driver named Bob (nope that's not a typo nor is it made up) arrived with Ford F-450 truck topped out with a Jerr-dan tow arm attached. You'll have to forgive my attention to tow truck detail but I used to be a driver of one myself and enjoyed it quite a bit. Bob used a lock out kit to rescue my luggage and the proceeded to hook up the car from the front. A few minutes later, Bob, myself, my luggage and four sugar free Red Bulls were bouncing down old county black tops on our way to Grand Rapids. Along the way, Bob told me about his job, family and the like. We swapped towing stories like his of fishing a big rig out of a river and mine of tugging a car out of a burning house.

Before we knew it, we had arrived at the airport and made it to the rental car garage. A problem arose when we realized we couldn't place the car near the other vehicles the company owned. Upon this revelation, I called Hertz quickly and asked where they would like to have the vehicle dropped. With the instructions of, "just where we can see it," I asked Bob to drop it on the sidewalk, in plain view of the counter. With my signature scribbled on his ticket and a fresh cup coffee, Bob crawled into his Ford and took off for home. I made my way through the garage and into the terminal, only to find out that I wouldn't be able to check in until 4:30 am. After an hour of working with minimal battery power and room in the lobby, I checked in with United and made my way to the business center at Gerald R. Ford International Airport. I set to work for the next three hours, updating charts, voicing a podcast and more. Along the way, I scarfed down a Quiznos sub (yes they still toast them at 5 am believe it or not) as I had not had any dinner the night before.

Around 7:30, Hertz called and asked how my rental car experience had gone. Known for my smart alec tendencies, I calmly replied, "well I enjoyed the car, what little I got to use it until the keys lost themselves in a mud pit." The operator had no idea what had happened but then understood why I had not returned the keys with the rental agreement earlier that morning. After a quick explanation and confirmation of the quote, I hung up and finally collapsed into a chair just as the sun began to illuminate the landscape fully. It'd been 25 hours since I woke up and I was exhausted from the ordeal. Unfortunately, I was squeezed into the middle seat on the flight to Cleveland so any hopes of sleep were dashed. After a brief lay over, I boarded the small hopper plane for the jaunt to Charlotte. I landed, grabbed my luggage and took off for the parking lots. Fortunately, I had not lost my personal keys. I took off for our home office and was greeted by this sight when I arrived.


My co-workers had heard of my misfortunes through my boss and editor-in-chief, Chris Dolack. They had also placed a sign on the back of my office chair that read, "The Keymaster." With all of the jokes and red faced looks I had endured, I couldn't help but laugh at my situation. Here I was, covered in mud and dirt from the previous nights races, deep black lines under my eyes from one hour of sleep in the prior 30 hours and a 328 dollar bill in hand from Hertz. Still chuckling, I remembered what a wise man once told me, "The lessons of adolescence are often humiliating and expensive, but the wisdom acquired by an old man gets cheaper every year."

With the ordeal behind me, I'm ready to head for my home state this weekend as the Outlaws invade Kansas for two nights at the famed Belleville Highbanks and Lakeside Speedway in Kansas City, Ks.