What is it about moving objects that make a person's ego overwhelm all other centers of the brain? To quote... well the internet, "Why is it that everyone driving slower than I is an idiot, and everyone driving faster is an asshole?" This level of/lack of comprehension for 'How could someone not want to go as fast as I do?' verses 'How could anyone else safely go faster than I am?' is truly the purest of what racing means to the human spirit. "I'm better than you," everything more, is just more.
Horses, trains, bikes, cars, rats, bar stools, lawn mowers, pigs, hot air balloons, computers, pinewood derby cars, even shopping carts to the checkout line; we race them all.
Thus, I start my journey to go fast.
First driving experience I can recall were bumper cars. See all those kids smiling? What kid doesn't smile when riding bumper cars? Me. That's right, I did not enjoy this game at all because I quickly realized there was no way to win. Could I run into someone hard enough to make their car stall or die? The draw of building up all this speed, and pointlessly ram into someone else eluded me completely. Simply because they could then then press the throttle and ever so gently bump me, and since these cars were so padded, both would have virtually the same impact. "How do I bump you better than you bump me?" Games without a victor have never appealed to me. It is exactly why I never enjoyed T-ball, why play baseball if you're not keeping score? Once the appeal of bumping left me, all I wanted was to go fast. But, all these other peckers kept bumping me. I needed a way to get this stupid driving machine away from everyone else to go fast.
The first and only time I played laser tag, little child walks (that's right, walks, you aren't allowed to run in laser tag, nor do you ever die). Walks right up to you and just keep shooting over and over, then follows you and keeps shooting.... you shoot them... they follow you and just keep shooting. Why have a field in laser tag? Honestly, just sit everyone in a circle. Damn it what a stupid game.
Back to bumper cars. Sure I'd run into people when I first started; but I really seemed to have just missed the boat on its appeal. So it was on to find a game that I could actually win/lose.
Amusement Park Go-Karts:
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| Look at the smile on that kid's face. How many little kids can smile that much when they are alone. Pure bliss I tell you. Either that or he's making sparks fly. |
I couldn't get enough of these things. Whenever I'd get to go to FiddleStix or Disneyland, I would hope for go-karts. Granted the Tea-Cups at Disney Land are insane, and my father made sure of it, but something about passing others let me know for once, "I'm better than you." Knowing absolutely nothing about driving, these speed resistant devices should certainly be a requirement for all 5-15 year-old drivers that find operating a motor vehicle anything but 100% intuitive and fluid.
Eventually these 2 pony-power training wheels became less than satisfying. So my dad came through and found another go-kart track in-town that didn't have huge padded-bumpers around the cars nor the edges to the track. Just a 1/2 mile of open track and a whole 2.5hp under hood. It was awesome and I would go every chance I had. Even eventually have my 12th birthday there. This track was narrow though. So while it was about 1/2 a mile long, there was no passing. But no matter. I would still find satisfaction, in catching the driver in-front of me, even with a 30 second spacing between starts of each kart. Until it reached the point that I could catch said little girl after about 200 feet. With another 2180ft of good track to go, I would eventually learn the booshwah (yes it is spelled right) practice of tail-gating. Even to the point of me stopping my car for what seemed like an impossibly long time to allow myself open roads to appease myself upon.... After catching her a 2nd time and with about 1000ft to go, I then had to come to grips with the idea that I was a rule-follower, a goody-two-shoes, the teacher's pet. I was the good kid that didn't like to get into trouble, in jest, I wish I were not. Then, I could simply pass said slow driver without qualm nor worry, and enjoy the race. No matter, I would make due. I could still learn to drive fast at the 1/2 mile track, and boost my horrific ego by passing 16 year old girls and crying children back at the amusement park.
Over time though, these two outlets had to succumb to the changing world. With the increased 'awareness' of what people now call 'liability', rules were eventually added at FiddleStix and many theme parks. Yes, FiddleStix decided to replace the go-karts with the "FiddleStix 9to5 Traffic Simulator". They no longer allowed passing. "Are you serious?" said the 13 year-old me. I was back behind the girl at the 1/2 mile track... The entire sport was dead to me.
Eventually I would turn 16 and start driving the family suburban. It did take an evening in a parking lot with dad to learn how to move something so large, but I feel that after only minimal instruction it all flowed quite naturally after driving karts. Again if driving doesn't flow naturally from your child, take them to an amusement park, buy them an all-day pass and tell them to not come out of the go-kart line until they are sorry for failing at a central part of life's mobile utilities.
Parallel parking was actually taught to me precisely 15 minutes before I had to do it for the driving test. I got it the second try with dad in a parking lot, and first time on my actual test. I heard different stories the all of my other class mates as how their driving tests went. One included: running a red light, cutting people off, hitting the parallel parking cones, and speeding, and something with a cyclist. All from the same person in the same test. (You know who you are). That received a passing grade.
So after years of driving on the streets, and speeding tickets, in either a suburban or a Ford Lightning, the reality of 'you can't do shit on surface streets' became ever more apparent. Driving a 400hp truck didn't provide much guiltless excitement. Like a pubescent boy sneaking his first Play Boy into Catholic church while singing in the choir during Easter Sunday surrounded by nuns, there was no chance I'd ever get to see what she really had under that bonnet. Again the sport of driving was dead to me.
But this isn't going to be a tale of overly emotional children talking about the dark and oppressive nature of authority. No, this is a tale of a kid finding the sport of racing in his own rite. Indeed, one step at a time and twists of fate gave me hope and pointed me back at the world of go-karts. One small step at a time.
At the age of 23 I stumbled upon another go-kart track with decent cars. I started to frequent the track about once a month as money would allow. It was indeed thrilling to get my ass handed to me by old guys that weighed 75-100lbs more than I. Karts fast enough that skill began to matter, passing, taunting they were all here.
This was the new arena in which I would play. In its most primitive form the racing spirit was alive here. Business men would come in and fold their Armani blazer over the benches, put on a helmet, and get into a kart next to a smelly construction worker. They'd exchange a glance that could only be interpreted as "I'm going to eat you", then race one another tooth and nail. The field spanned all boundaries and the field was level to anyone that could step into the ring. Though this arena is far from what I'll call home, it is indeed a grand stepping stone. A place to start out.... simply.
Here is one of the first races I recorded at the F1 track. People have asked what camera I used to shoot this video so here it is: ContourHD 1080p Full HD Helmet Camera
So until next time,
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