Mesa Marin has a great new division called the Havoline Racing Revolution Sport Compact Series. What really makes the division exciting, besides the fact that everyone is out there having a lot of fun, is the cars are painted like small NASCAR Nextel Cup cars. Only problem I have seen with these cars is the confusion it causes the announcers. You will hear the announcer call out, “That’s Mark Martin making the pass on the high side.” Of course he will eventually credit the name to the correct local racer, but it is only a matter of time before the next slip-up, and Steve the announcer is shouting, “Kevin Harvick is making a run to the front.”
On the inaugural run of these cars, the announcer said, “…and in the car painted to look like the famous red and white Marion Collins’ car there are two passengers.” Talk about exciting. It put an idea in my head that the one thing I always wanted to do was ride in a racecar…maybe I could be a passenger.
After the race and I compliment Mr. Collins on an awesome new series, I tell him I want to be a passenger in one of those cars. He laughs and says, “Well, I’ll tell you, those passengers in that car are dummies.”
My response is, “Yes, I know, but I still want to do it.”
Collins now with a bigger twinkle in his eye and the lines on his face turning upwards to a big grin explains, “Those are real dummies. The Coors people left us a couple after they completed their commercial here.”
After some explaining that I still want to be in the car and should have some qualification as a dummy, he starts talking about letting me ride in a car during the trophy dash. Well, no, I don’t want to ride around at the tail, I want to pass and get passed and I want to feel the bumping and banging.
I relentlessly pressure Collins and then finally he says, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you drive one of those cars.” My heart beats with a mixture of excitement and fear. I have always watched drivers go out to qualify and wondered how they are able to concentrate on the track and not the crowd--could be most people don’t think of this; shy people might know what I mean, though. Well, more on this later.
For a few weeks I worry and fret about that upcoming opportunity to get in that little Havoline Racing Revolution Sport Compact Series’ car, and I catch myself thinking, “Why in the world do I back myself into these situations?” But at the same time, I have this feeling that it is one of those once in a lifetime opportunities. There are only a handful of promoters that will give a senior citizen with no previous racing experience a chance to drive a race car. How lucky I am.
The big day arrives. It is Friday before SRL practice. Collins finds a driving suit and proper fitting helmet and I am off to the races…or so I think. We start out with Collins driving the track truck around to show me the proper racing line. Next, I drive the truck to try the line. I guess I missed the marks more than I hit them, but I feel like I am a talent Jack Roush will likely be coveting to appear in the next “Gong Show”, hey I am a female Harry Gant ready to surprise the racing world with what has previously been my amazing, undiscovered untried natural skills and abilities.
Now it gets exciting—it is time to go racing in a real race car. I climb into the car and tell Collins in a whisper of a voice that I only drive automatics. One of his employees is standing there with his mouth open, but fortunately for me, Collins is not daunted and he jumps in the car and we drive around as he attempts to teach me in two laps how to drive a stick. Picture him crouching as I take the track at about 5 mph, but even at that rate of speed I manage to nearly dump him over more than a couple of times with my erratic moves and never before tried line.
The moment arrives, Collins jumps out and I am on my own. I keep mixing up 2nd and 1st gears but, by golly I think I have it; between the line and the shifting I feel that I am not RacingWest Janet but I am the next Janet Guthrie. I circle the track hitting the marks…almost…and dreaming of what I am going to say in victory lane. Then there stands Collins at the start finish waving me down. I am so excited, ready to hear his words of encouragement and then with a smile he says, “You’re too slow. Take a break and you can try again in an hour or so.”
Wow. Too slow? But I was the next superstar…obviously this promoter doesn’t recognize raw talent when he sees it. OK. I go to one of my favorite dives for a quick meal, Taco Bell, and make my way back to the track and back into the little orange car, with Robby Gordon’s #31 on the side.
Now I am determined to go fast and ask Collins for advice.
Collins responds, “Make those tires squeal, then you know you are going fast.”
“But I am going to roll the car over on the turn,” I yell back at him over the idling engine.
“Besides the fact that you are going too slowly to roll the car, how many cars do you see roll at this track on their own because they are going too fast?”
OK. He had a point. Now off for some more laps and I get it going faster, realizing that if I am going to get to race tonight I am going to have to pay better attention to the car and the track and less attention to my future stardom.
I stand on the gas coming out of the turns and then as I come to the mark before entering the turns, the place where I need to dive down and lift, well…I find myself lifting just a little bit early, maybe half a straightway or so. Hey, it’s a bit scary going in there full throttle and just turning the wheel with no braking; it is in direct conflict with my instincts. But I hear Collins advice, “Most people go too slow because they don’t turn the wheel here.”
OK. I am going for it … the wheels are squealing now fast out of the turn and down the straights, a little problem going into the turns, but I have a good feeling and when I get out Collins tells me I did a respectable job and he was proud of me. Winning his respect means a lot to me. I have been fortunate in life to have relationships and dealings with several famous people, but there are few, if any that I have ever admired more than Marion Collins.
Enough of the soppy stuff…Now it is the next day and time to practice. I am at the end of the line waiting to go out and while all the other cars are idling, for some reason I decide to turn my car off. First mistake, it means I have to restart it and that means I am having a hard time catching up to the field. I get a panicky feeling in me and with a few failed attempts to get it going finally take off, but then I stall it on the back straight trying to put it in third. My heart is beyond beating, now it is thumping. I am thinking, “Now I am messing up everyone else’s practice,” but it gets going on its own and I start my practice session.
I am thinking about the line and such when all of a sudden a car comes flying by me, then two cars. It is amazing how little you see in a racecar, but sure enough there is one above me, one below me, oh no! Not wanting to be the slow car in the middle, I think about how the intelligent back markers do it and I decide to go low and stay there.
I avoid looking at the flagstand because I am determined NOT to see a black flag. I did in the back of my head know that I have to watch for a yellow, red, green, white, or checkered flag; but not that black flag.
Practice ends and I feel like I was terrible in the beginning but OK at the end. I mean after all the SRL and Tours were turning 19s and I was doing a 19 as well, it couldn’t be that bad, right?
Well, along comes Collins and puts his arm around me and tells me, “You aren’t racing tonight. We black flagged you.”
I ask him why, and he says besides the fact that I didn’t obey the blackflag; I would need to pay the promoter if I wanted to race. Politics! Darn track politics that is all it is. Pay the promoter? Why would I do that? I am a racer. I am putting on the show the promoter should pay me…he he. Why wouldn’t the people in the stands want to watch me?
Relief sweeps over me like a cuddly blanket. I can go back to doing what I am comfortable doing. I don’t have to worry about being in the way of the other drivers. Everything in me feels happy. I did something I never dreamed I would have a chance to do, not just ride in a racecar, but drive one.
I recommend this experience to anyone looking for a new thrill. If you want the experience of a lifetime, try one of these little cars. You can buy your own or have the track do one for you. I think the investment is probably a couple thousand or so.
Driving one of the Havoline Racing Revolution Sport Compact Series’ cars is some of the most fun I ever had and I will forever cherish the opportunity. The fear of the crowd (remember, this was one of my main concerns) vanishes when you are in that car, it is as if you have entered a whole new world.
And a big special thank you to not only Collins, but to Leslie Lipscomb, Stepahine, Vicky, Larry, Brian, Shirley, Gary and Bob and all the others at Mesa Marin that helped me live a dream.
And I still cannot believe I turned a 19….I did mention that is what the Tour and SRL turned, right? So I am as good as them, only difference is they did their 19 in seconds and I converted my 19 to MPH.
