Weekend Warrior

At the age of 13, I never thought I would be my dad’s crew chief, and I really

didn’t think that I would be the one person my dad relied on to set-up his racecar. Now at

the age of 16 I have more than mastered the art of setting up a racecar. It gives me great

satisfaction when my dad asks for my advice, instead of my 20-year old brother.

He taught me everything I know. What wrench to use for certain situations, how

to organize a tool box so that I can be efficient, and how to predict what the track is going

to do, to make setting up the racecar easier. My dad never made it to the top tier of

racing, but he knows what he’s doing. Ask anyone at the track, and they’ll say he has had

quite an accomplished career.

Racing has been in my family for three generations. My grandpa began drag

racing for fun with his buddies. After a few years he moved to dirt track. My

grandpa wasn’t very good at racing. He was more of a mechanic than driver.

When my dad turned 15, he bought himself a 1966 Chevy Impala. He raced

it at the dirt track in Warren, Minnesota for many years, until the organization

WISSOTA formed.

With WISSOTA came many rule changes. My dad bounced around from

division to division, until he finally came to a division he liked. 20 years later came

my turn. I began at the age of 15 also. I finished off my first full year in the Street

Stock class, a sanctioned class of WISSOTA.

My dad is still racing a Street Stock too. We get to race against each other

every Friday night, which is a lot of fun. The first few times he took it easy on me.
When I began beating him on a consistent basis, he stepped it up. Now I only beat

him every other night. In a few years he wants to retire and travel with me, and my

racing career.

Victory and perfection are two things that everybody

strives for. When it is accomplished, there is no greater

feeling in the world.

I have been setting-up my dad’s car since I was 13,

and “pay-day” came only a year later. The track was in

Hallock, Minnesota. It was a warm night causing the track

to lose all of its moisture. My dad did very well in his

heat, finishing second out of eight. I knew it was going to

be a dry-slick track because of the warm weather, and the

lack of rain throughout the week.

“On a dry-slick track,” I stated to my father, “You

are going to need to be nice and easy on the gas. Remember

slow is fast.”

This information was unnecessary for a 25-year veteran.

The most important thing my dad taught me to do is keep a binder with

notes. Any information that could give me an advantage over the competition should

go into the binder. Specifically what my car likes, and how my car works best. After

3 years I have filled out 2. I still use them both to this day, and am working on filling
out my third.

After every race I write a report about everything I did that night. I keep

track of what tires have been used, how many races they have on them, what tire

pressure they were at the beginning of the race, and what they changed to after the

race. Keeping a binder was a real good idea. I can reference back to different nights

and see how I did on specific track conditions. Then I will know how to change the

set-up so that I can give myself a better chance to win.

Almost more important than the driver, is the set-up.

If a talented driver like Jimmie Johnson (back to back to

back defending champion of the Nextel Cup Series) were to

race with a horrible set-up, and he would most likely look

like a blind person trying to drive. Sure you can be off on

the set-up a little, but when you hit it right on, the

driver doesn’t have to work as hard.

With a full year of practice under my belt, my dad had

faith in me to get his car perfect. I took my time setting

up the car. I checked and re-checked every tire pressure,

using great care.

It was time for my dad to get ready for his last race

of the night. He took one-step away from his racecar

window. In one fluid, motion he kicked his leg into the

air, and rested it upon the small opening. I was praying.

Please let my dad win. I will never ask for anything again.

I made the prayer quick because I didn’t want my dad to see

me. He might think I don’t have faith in him. He finished

sliding into his racecar seat, and began buckling his five-

point harness.

“Do you get nervous anymore, Dad?” I questioned.

“No. After 20 years it’s easier to stay calm.” He

replied.

Oh. Then how do you explain your shaking hands?

“That’s good,” I answered. “Now drive fast and turn

left.”

I buckled the window net and gave him a good luck fist

bump. With all pre-race preparations preformed, dad lined

up for his final race of the night.

My favorite type of track to race on is tacky. It’s the kind of track where you

put the pedal to the medal and just go. Tacky is unlike dry-slick, where you have to

be more patient. I am not a patient person, and that’s exactly why I like tacky.

Don’t get me wrong, I like to race on dry-slick because it shows who the real

talented drivers are, but tacky separates the boys from the men. You get to see who

has the “biggest kahunas.”

The car lurched forward as Dad put it into gear,

almost as if it was trying to tell him it was ready.

Fourteen other cars followed close behind dad as they made

their way down the pit area, kicking up a blinding amount

of dust. The cars entered the track on the back

straightaway, and lined up in their starting positions.

They paced two-by-two for a few laps until the head flagman

pointed the rolled up green flag, indicating one more lap

until the race began.

I climbed onto the tire rack of our trailer to get a

better view of the race. The grandstand in the pits was too

small, and I couldn’t stand sitting there with all of the

competitions pit crew. Before and after the race I would

love to chat with them, but during the race, I had my game

face on.

The green flag flew as the cars exited turn four. The

roar of the engines picked up. At the end of the front

straightaway, the cars were beginning to spread out. Dad

was doing great. He was leading as the cars exited turn

three. I paced back and fourth on top of our trailer.

One lap went by and dad was still the leader. Another

lap went by, then another, then another, and dad was still

the leader. By now I had begin to wear a path on the top of

our trailer.
 By the end of the race, I should have walked my way

right through the metal. The flagman stuck out the green

and white flag together, meaning the halfway point. I was

now cracking my fingers and rubbing my hands together. Dad

had stretched out a good lead by now, but Steffan Snare was

slowly gaining.

Only two more laps.

One more lap.

Snare was right on dad’s bumper. His 20 years of

racing was taking over. He hit his marks, taking the high

side of the racetrack. Snare had no option. He had to try

the low side of the track to get around dad. On the last

turn, Snare shot to the low side. But he couldn’t make the

car stick.

Dad had won.

My prayers had been answered.

Now let’s talk about the strategy of dry-slick, unlike tacky, which has little to

no strategy. The first thing you want to do is see how dry the track really is. Is it a

dusty dry? Is there rubber being put down on the track? Or is it the type of dry

where you can see your reflection? If it’s a dusty dry, your going to want to go with

a basic set-up, but lower the left rear tire pressure to 10 or 10.5 psi. If rubber is

being put down on the track, you are going to want to use a basic set-up, but expect
the track to get tacky.

The track will change depending on how many cars are in the feature. The

fewer cars, the slower the track will change. The more, the faster. It the track is so

shiny that you can see your reflection, it is considered dry, dry-slick. This is the

toughest type of dry to race on. You will have to make many changes from your

basic set-up. I would suggest dropping the left rear tire pressure to 9 psi, and adding

a 1-inch spacer. This will give the left rear tire more face to the track, tightening the

car up, and making it easier to handle in the middle of the turns. Also put a ¼-inch

spacer in the left rear spring. More changes will need to be made depending on how

smooth or rough the track is.

The best part of racing is the people. Die-hard fans who are at the track when it’s

105 degrees, or when its 35 degrees. The camaraderie is awesome. Before each race, a

group of people can be seen at any given trailer. Usually grilling food. After the race, that

same group of people will be sitting around a bon-fire, re-living the moments of just a

few hours ago.