The anticipation grew. I knew the Star Spangled Banner would be starting any second. In a cruel twist of fate, I was stuck in the bathroom. I started to feel a sense of panic. I’d seen the drivers head to the podium already, but being behind a broken door could quite likely prevent me from seeing the start up of the nitro cars at the NHRA drags.
Luckily, the soothing sounds of crickets brought me back to reality. Instead of being stuck in a restroom, my phone was alerting me that it was 4:20. Time to wake and get on the road.
Next weekend is the Sonoma drag races. I am sitting in the copilot’s seat of an aging Dodge pickup for 2200 miles over the next 3.5 days. So,….it’s not that I’m excited to go down and back to Sonoma next weekend; but thankfully I already know it will completely worth it.
To get this out of the way; yes, I have a celebrity crush on funny car driver Matt Hogan. But my obsession with this event started before he started driving. So,..(tongue sticking out).
Sometimes the drags would be on in the house when I was a kid. It didn’t lead to passion for the sport. And if you’ve seen it on TV, maybe you’ve felt the same. “Cool Crystal. The cars drive fast in a straight line for 1,300 feet. Big deal.”
Then Brian’s work soul mate Aaron invited him to go. I passively told my toddlers, “Look for daddy on TV.” I hoped they wouldn’t get too excited trying to find him; that Walmart TV stand was working hard to hold up the 100+ pound TV. They could’ve been crushed at any moment. They lived. They didn’t see Daddy. But when he got home, his excitement didn’t make sense.
The next year was a family trip. I advise any parent challenge themselves by parenting 3 and 5 year olds in that setting. Ear protection is needed so any verbal parenting is ineffective. The drive was long. The traffic was tough. The sunscreening alone was a lot of work. I wasn’t sure if it was all going to be worth it.
Then. Nitro.
There is no feeling like it. You just be still and bask in absolute power. Raw, unadulterated force. Ugh.
The experience is surreal. Hearing protection makes it seem other worldly. The decrease in hearing is waaaay more than made up for when you feel the rapid thumps on your chest from the best internal combustion engines have to offer. You’re surrounded by 15,000 of your closest friends, but there’s enough energy to more than go around.
After the first startup, I was a believer.
Aside from stupid Carr fire and stupid pandemic, I’ve been every year since.
The action is fast paced and built for someone with my attention span. The long races last about 12 seconds. In the fast races, pilots get their cars up to over 300 miles per hour in less than 4 seconds. If I had even the brain I’m most jealous of, I still couldn’t describe it with justice.
After each 4 second race, the teams have 75 minutes in which they completely rebuild the engines. While they do this, they also are very approachable and fan centric (hence the growing collage that it my Matt Hagan photos). I know nothing about engines and cars, but even I can be impressed with efficiency and exacting work. You get to be right in the middle of it. People flock to the pit of the car most likely to do it’s test start next, challenging themselves to get the closest or stay the longest as the air fills with nitro exhaust. With tearing eyes and wide smiles, they clap cheer and wander off to the next car.
I’ve been lucky in that some of my years were spent camping there, making a serious adventure out of it. Feeling like we owned the place after the cars stopped running and the kids would ride their bikes on the track or drive my poor little blue civic at it’s “top speed.” Once a year, turn 8 was home. They were truly incredible trips, but time moves on and it’s not a part of my story anymore.
But obsessing over the chance to get to feel that power still is. It hasn’t waned in it’s ability to impress me in even the slightest way. It’s like each time is the only time. The races are in Denver this weekend. The whole production will up and move over a couple days to our wine country to delight the fans and flex their capitalist muscle. I get giddy anytime I’ve been lucky enough to see one of the trucks. I don’t think I’ll see any on this drive, but I’m learning my geography sucks. I thought I’d go through Corning on the way to Wyoming. (Master’s degree)
But I’ll see them next weekend. If you ever get a chance, go. You won’t regret it. Just make sure you go to the bathroom well before the national anthem so you don’t risk getting stuck and missing the first start up. (Seriously….who dreams that?!)
Thanks for reading!
Bifocals and Barbells 