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Now It’s My Turn
By Chris | November 1, 2008
After a year of watching, wrenching, and worrying, it seemed only fair that I, Chris, get a chance to experience this whole driving thing. And it certainly couldn’t hurt for me to know in more detail what it was all about when it comes to tuning or setting up the car.
I have been a fan for 35 years, watching racing at Milan and Norwalk since my teens. I have seen more passes down the track than many people I know. But, other than a couple of forgettable times as a teenager, I’ve never made a pass down the track in earnest. So when the email from Frank Hawley’s School advertising a new class in Las Vegas came, I was intrigued to say the least.
After much hemming and hawing (along with begging and pleading of my forever tolerant wife), I decided to go for it. I signed up for the class in late September. Now the nerves could begin in earnest.
My biggest concern, strangely enough, wasn’t about driving the car. I pretty much knew what to expect there, having been through it with Emily in January. It was about fitting in the car in the firs
t place. I’m not a small guy, and I’ve been denied seats on roller coasters and other tight fits in the past. My fear was compounded when, just days before the class, someone from the school called to warn me that there was a non-zero chance I wouldn’t fit in. Ugh. I’ve been working out, Emily and her Mom even talked me into a “90-day Challenge” at the gym. I’m getting smaller. But these things are tiny… And I don’t do tiny very well.
When the time finally came, that cold morning in the desert with a whole group of other nervous students, I was awfully close to panic. Would I license? Would I like it? Would I simply fit in the car? I’d been up most of the night with these concerns. But Frank is good at this, and he settled most of it down… Until it came time to get in the car. I picked out a fire suit, gloves, helmet, and neck ring and waited my turn.
When I finally wedged into the car I was amazed, I actually fit. Sort of. I told the guy who came to strap me in how worried I was, and he said “oh, don’t worry, we’ve squeezed way bigger guys than you in here”. And he strapped me in. But the helmet was so uncomfortable and the neck ring so thick that I couldn’t see the dash. I made it to the line and made that stumbling first pass that everyone makes, to 200 feet, and quickly wrenched myself out of the car. I had done it.
Two more passes that day and I was through day one… With a welt on my forehead, and a pit in my stomach. Boy, that car sure hits hard on the launch. And that helmet and neck ring hurt. And I can barely get in and out of the car, the bruises in my armpits from wriggling out of it were painful.
I even, for a moment, considered not finishing day two. But when Frank said in his day two chat that comfort was key,
I decided to do something about it. I asked for a new helmet and neck ring, and you’d be surprised how much easier it is to drive when you can actually see what you’re doing…
I was never really comfortable, though. And it wasn’t all about the fit. My lights were just this side of lousy. It turns out 165 mph is pretty darn fast (who would’ve guessed?). And I never really got the whole “I love this, gotta do more” feeling that I really expected. Don’t get me wrong, it was cool, but…
So I completed the course, and got my license. I’m now NHRA license number 6304 (matches Em’s 6104 nicely). But I’m not sure what I’ll do with it. We’re really not in a position to add another car to the stable. We have a trailer that really only will work for the one car, the economy is taking a bite out of everyone, and it wouldn’t be popular on the home front.
For now, I’m ecstatic that I am licensed. I understand a lot more about what Em is going through — maybe I’ll be a little less of a butthead when she makes a mistake. I make enough for both of us anyway. And we’re both really looking forward to getting back to the racing next spring.
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