Beaver Springs Dragway – Everyone has some things they’d like to accomplish while they still can, their “bucket list.” One of my things was to take a car down a drag strip. Many a time in the old days, I’d find myself matched against someone else, but it was always on the street, never a real track. I really, really wanted to see what the real thing felt like. The perfect opportunity for that came at Beaver Springs Dragway, when they had $5 street car passes (not to mention a pretty good band as well). For the first time ever, I pulled up to the gates with the intention of racing my car. There was a bit of a rush in that even before any racing took place. There were so many times, I’ve watched so many people pulling so many cars into the staging lanes and now it was my turn. Now it was real. I went around the water box, fully knowing my car was slow and warming the tires would serve no purpose at all (if it would even spin them). Just as I had watched others do it so many times, I carefully inched towards the staging beams, figuring it would be easy considering how many times I’d watched it being done. Well, that thought was wrong. When I’m taking photos on the starting line, I always watch the lights on the tree so I can time the picture. Should be an old pro with the lights, eh? That was the first surprise. The staging lights almost seemed to come on by themselves. No problem, I’ve watched the amber lights go down to the green lots of times. Wait a minute, they seem to go a lot faster through a windshield than they do a camera lens. Suddenly the green light came on and I nailed the throttle. That was when the next surprise came. The car produced way more tire spin than expected. By the time the shock of the wheelspin faded, it suddenly occurred to me I was about 100 feet out and wasn’t at full throttle yet, having backed off with the tire spin. Time to mash the throttle the rest of the way. The finish line! Time to back out of the throttle and stop. But wait…you’re supposed to back off the throttle AT the finish line, not when you see it! Arrgh!! A quick glance at the speedometer showed me the car was slow. I knew it would be, but not that slow. All that and it was still a huge rush like no other. The girl at the time slip booth seemed to be really happy doing her job. Or maybe she saw my time and was giggling. Anyway, the first pass was in!! Reaction time? A horrid 0.673. I thought the car would be in the high 15s. Nope. Solidly in the 16s. Still, for a 23-year-old, kind of heavy car with a six-cylinder engine…I’ll take it.

I was able to improve that reaction time to a respectable 0.101. I was able to trim the ET down 0.21 seconds and gained 4 mph. I also learned the car was just ready to get going when the finish line came. I glanced at the speedometer after my last pass, full throttle to the finish line, and saw it was registering nearly 10 mph more than what was recorded in the traps. I guess it would’ve liked a 3/8 mile run better. That run really made me appreciate how the fast cars can get stopped, as it took way longer to stop than when I let up before the finish line. I have to confess, the whole thing was an emotional experience for me in more than one way. I had all the thrills of that first run, the giddy smile brought only by speed, but it was more than that. Four years ago, my mom went home to Heaven. I used the last birthday money she gave me five years ago to pay for the night. I figured it was time to finally use the gift and this was the perfect opportunity, making a memory that will stick with me as long as my brain still functions. Not sure mom would’ve approved, though, since she always hated me driving all the fast cars I had in the past, but she would’ve liked how happy it made me. Before I left, I parked the car in the Winner’s Circle and took a photo. No, I didn’t win a race, but I did win the satisfaction of doing this thing I had always wanted to do. I kept the number painted on the windshield, and glanced at it a bunch of times on the ride home. Still seemed a little surreal, but it actually happened. It was real. And I’ll cherish that first pass in my memory.

Anyone who’s considered taking a trip down the strip needs to get out to a drag strip and do it. Support your local track. As the old saying goes, “Life’s short. Eat dessert first.”