View From the Stands

10/7/05

HRA fans are a happy lot. For all the griping we hear about oildowns, one-lane racetracks, team orders, timing-system failures, and so on, that was my key observation last month when I experienced the NHRA national at Maple Grove Raceway the way most of the people there did: as a fan, in the stands, relying only on Bob Frey’s P.A. chatter to keep me informed.

At most races, you can find me trackside while qualifying or eliminations are going on, or wandering through racers’ pits between rounds, searching for those tasty tidbits of insider info, occasionally wandering up to the pressroom to pick up the latest qualifying sheets or round ladders. In other words, I’m your typical press guy just trying to do the job.

That was certainly the case last month when I made the long trek to Reading, PA—770 miles one-way from Atlanta—or at least it was the case through Friday and Saturday morning. After that, I sat in the stands with my good friend, Don, who drove about 450 miles from Toronto. Don had been to NASCAR events, the Indy 500, Formula 1, etc., but never to a big-league drag race before and I’d convinced him that his race-viewing career would never be complete if he didn’t experience nitro burning in the flesh.

Our weekend started off on an odd but welcome note, as despite leaving at different times and traveling from different directions over unfamiliar roads, we arrived at our meeting point on Friday afternoon a scant three minutes apart! We couldn’t have planned it better if … well, if we had planned it. Let’s just say I was amazed at the synchronization.

So we made it to the track on time for the first round of qualifying and I immediately went to work trackside while Don, with a standard-issue ticket, watched from the starting-line bleachers. I should mention here that everyone at Maple Grove, from the ladies in the NHRA credential office to the security personnel to the guys working as bathroom attendants(!) at the porta-potties(!) were friendly, courteous, and professional, greatly contributing to our enjoyment all weekend.

The venue is a classic drag racing setting, the familiar precision of a strip of blackened asphalt and concrete perfectly juxtaposed against the lush, green hills of southeastern Pennsylvania’s Amish country. Even the signage along the topside of the grandstands had a somewhat “retro” look to it, promoting the local Holiday Inn, a trailer sales outlet, and the hometown newspaper along with the obligatory Castrol GTX placards. No fancy shilling here, just good, old-fashioned American advertising at work. Basically, it looked the way I imagine drag racing is supposed to look.

I was impressed, too, with the unique viewing points that spectators could easily access at “The Grove.” We spent Saturday’s first qualifying round standing directly even with the finish line, no more than 20 yards from the track, where you could distinctly hear the pop of Pro Stock parachutes and really get an appreciation for the speed of a Top Fueler or Funny Car through the lights.

I was told fans could even walk down as far as the turn off area and see the drivers as they exited their cars, another viewing option not usually available to the general admission set, but Don and I opted instead for a seat in the top-end stands for Saturday’s final session. Before that, however, we each took a ride in the U.S. Army’s dragster simulator, where I’m proud to say I narrowly defeated my ET-challenged friend. We had planned to also sample the NHRA’s new side-by-side Funny Car sim, but the lines at times rivaled those at Disneyland so that’ll have to wait for another time.

Raceday dawned bright and clear, marred only by our decision to attempt a retrace of our “shortcut” out of the track the night before. After a few wrong turns and several encounters with horse-drawn buggy loads of Amish church goers, we finally got back on track right around the time we passed one of the locals doing his best Paul Revere impression. I don’t know where he was going in such a hurry, but I swear, if that horse had lost its footing, you’d be reading a very different story right now.