June 5th, 1999. Finally. I thought this day would never come. I signed up for Competitive Edge Racing School in February. It would be another agonizing 5 months before I would go. The truth is I’ve been waiting all my life, but now will do. 

Here was the advertisement … Competitive Edge Racing School. Have you ever wanted to drive a real race car? Now you can. Come spend a day with us and drive one of our race prepared 1999 Chevrolet Monte Carlo, 400+ horsepower Late Model race cars! You will spend about an hour and a half in the classroom learning the basics of car control and racing techniques. Then you will be strapped in to feel the thrill of a lifetime lapping the race track for two 30-lap sessions at your own pace. No instructor sitting next to you or for you to follow. Just you and the race track with four to five other would-be racers on the track for you to gauge your progression. A controlled passing lane will be utilized in the second session so that your pace will not be impeded.

Sounded good enough for me! I was hooked.

Saturday, June 5, 1999 at 5 a.m. I woke up my fan club of Charlene and Charrina. We had to be at Yakima Speedway in Yakima, WA no later than 7:30 a.m. I was rocketing down the road at 70 mph or more. And we were still not moving fast enough, for me. We arrived on time.

The instructors of the school were out in front of the building to watch for arrivals. As I was pulling into the parking lot of the speedway, I stalled the engine! Too funny. 

Drivers’ Meeting 

I trotted up to the announcer’s booth where the six other students/racers were waiting. In the meantime, Char and Char were waiting patiently in the car. Unbeknownst to them, Charrina hit the record button on the video recorder she brought and recorded the entire conversation. In case you’re wondering… there was no black mail type of material. Sorry folks, but it was funny.

Meanwhile, I was learning driver techniques and physics lessons. Eek! Even algebra made its appearance!! Little did they know, that I love math. One of the key formulas we concentrated on was … 15GR = mph* (G = grip, R = radius)

What does that mean?! This is the way by which you keep from slamming into the wall at a perverse amount of speed. Another thing we were forced to do is “left footed braking”.

Yes, that’s right. Left foot covering the brake, and the right over the gas.

Why did we do that? It’s a long story that’ll tell you about it sometime, if you ask. I know I exude an air of confidence about NASCAR, auto racing, etc … Deep down I know only a fraction of the information. But just sitting there was an eye-popping experience. Wow! Randy, the Lead Instructor, Founder, and Owner, imparted only a morsel of the knowledge lurking behind those eyes…

“NASCAR (National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing) – the most fun you can have going in circles all day.” – back of a T shirt.

The sun was out, the meeting was over, and it was time to hit the track. I spied on the cars we would be using. Metal body Chevy Monte Carlo Late Model Stock Cars powered by 350 cu in small block 400 horsepower V-8 engines. I couldn’t wait! I was giddy with excitement. I was grinning like an idiot. An idiot complete with a driver’s suit, and helmet. The track was a ¾ mile D-shaped oval with medium banked corners and asphalt cover. The wind was blowing a little and sun blazing down. A great recipe for great racing. We were separated into three groups. Each group ran 40 laps then came in for a critique while sitting in the car. Next they send you out for another 40 laps.

Finally, you get a break and they hauled you out of the car. After each group finished they sent you out for the final 40 laps. All I remember is impatiently waiting for my group. I was in number 2 of 3. The other guy in my group was Bill. Finally, it was our turn. I strapped on my helmet, and crawled inside. The car sat so low I thought my ass would gather road rash. I could only see about 4 inches of the hood then it dropped into oblivion. And my helmet further narrowed this. To me the world seemed small yet fast.

“Gentlemen, start your engines!”

The moment I’ve been waiting for. I strapped myself in with the S-point safety they use in aircraft. Just don’t kill the engine in front of my fan club. That would only provide hours of laughter for them. I pushed in the clutch, flipped the ignition switch (you got it baby, no keys) and hit the start button. A small war erupted under the hood as it thundered to life! I inched this beast out on to the racetrack at the command of the instructor.

“Drive it like you stole it”

I put her through the gears easily down the back straightaway. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to end up in my lap (see what I did there?!)

My first 40 laps I was very cautious. Just be smooth. Carlos, you are not running races, or lap times. So take it easy. Be smooth. Here’s Turn 1. I rolled off the throttle, simultaneously rolling on the brake to threshold. I enter Turn 2. Alright, baby. Doing well. Don’t you turn it around. Good job. Now bury the pedal exiting 2.

I was put all the way back into my seat. Hell, I thought I would end up in the back seat. If there was such a thing. That’s pretty much what happened for the rest of my session. Bill passed me once. I didn’t care. I would get it back. Although, there was one incident on the track. I was exiting Turn 4 with a full head of steam. I crossed the start-finish line through the tri-oval when all I saw was smoke in Turn 2. In the rearview mirror, I saw the instructor jumping up and down with the yellow caution flag. I blew by her before she had a chance to display it.

Oh shit. Don’t panic. I braked harder in Turn 1. I saw Bill slide up the hill. I didn’t want to take any chances of him sliding back down so I jumped on the gas to clear the car. I continued to rack up my laps without incident and perfecting my “line”. Charrina and Charlene were cheering me on in the grandstands. Charrina was taking a crash course in digital video recording. No pun intended. Charlene was taking ample pictures with my camera after my crash course through photography. Again, no pun… oh forget it. Sadly, the day had to end. The checkered flag fell and I had to pit. Well, I didn’t spin or crash. Time now to pull into my own victory lane.