Race Life Pt. 4
Race Life
Pt. 4
The car was calling my name. It wanted me behind the wheel, nobody else. I walked up the ramp and put my paw on the hood. I walked slowly, feeling the car up, from the hood to the roof, making my way down to the trunk and spoiler. I was born to do this.
"Love the car that much?" My dad asked.
I gave him a glance with a small smile on my face. He already knew the answer. I looked back at the car and then towards my locker in the back that contained my racing suit, boots, gloves, helmet, and hans device. I confidently strode over to the locker, opening it up. I had a pair of sweats and a racing T-shirt to pit on that would go under all of the gear.
"A little privacy please!" I shot at my dad.
He gave a grunt and turned around, walking away to check something out. I quickly changed clothes, getting into the racing suit. For the most part, it was a solid crystal blue. It had white stripes running down the sides and back. My helmet also matched with the same color scheme, as did my gloves and boots.
Helmet in hand, I walked over to the driver's side and put my helmet on a hook in the car. I threw my gloves on the dash and exited the trailer, looking for my dad.
"Dad! I'm ready to push the car out!" I said giddily.
He walked over from the table where he was looking at the roster of teams, and joined me inside. We unhooked the safety harnesses around the wheels that held the car in place. For extra caution, we I always left the car in gear so it wouldn't roll around. I hopped on in, legs first, bending my body to fit in the cockpit. My butt hit he seat and I took my left leg, pushing in the clutch and putting the car into neutral.
"Ready?" Asked my dad.
"Yup."
"Well, climb back out here, I'm not pushing this thing myself!" Exclaimed dad.
"Well, shouldn't I push the brake in so it doesn't roll away?" I asked.
"No, it's not going anywhere, too heavy."
I replied with an "alright" and climbed back out. We both got behind the car and pushed. Once we had momentum built up, my dad went to the front of the car to ease it off of the ramp. Once all four wheels successfully hit the pavement, we were in business.
The sun now burned most of the clouds away, revealing, for the most part, a clear sunny blue sky. The way the light hit the car made it shine.
Now, every car has a make and model. There's not just one made up car running around the track. My car is a 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix. I'm not a huge fan of Pontiac myself, but it was the cheapest way to go. My car number is 99, after Carl Edwards in the Sprint Cup Series. The engine under the hood wasn't too shabby either, producing a healthy 525 horses. The one major restriction the series had was power output. The rules stated that the car had to at least have 500 horsepower, producing no more than 550. You could say I was right in the middle!
The paint job of my car was the same blue as my racing suit, the solid blue with two stripes running from the front fenders all the way back to the rear quarter panels. It looked great out on the track, and it stood out from the rest of the cars. I didn't have any major sponsors for the car, just the name of my dad's company on the hood and doors. Nothin too special. Most teams had local sponsors and some had major ones, but they were the teams with huge bank.
I looked over next to me, seeing Trip's car out as well. He had the common Chevrolet, a 2006 Monte Carlo with a 4 as his car number. His paint scheme is crazy good, having a mix of bright colors, greens, yellows, oranges, and some reds, just to name a few. The design had a swooping effect, like a V shape getting wider and wider on the hood. As for the side of the car, it had a wave effect, matching be colors of the hood. His car's power was a little better than mine, pumping out 535 horses. But speeds not everything, right?
He gave me a friendly wave and yelled, "Nice car buddy!"
"Right back at you!" I said loudly.
I turned around I just listened. Not a sound. No cars have been fired up yet. I just may be the first. I walked over to he table and looked at the starting time for practice, 9:00 AM sharp.
"Da-"
"8:56." He said, beating me at my own question.
"Darn." I said with a sigh.
He responded back, "I suppose we can push the car to the starting area where they'll do inspection. I wonder if anybody is lined up yet."
"I would think so."
"Well, I'll push in the back while push from the driver's side. Make sure to take the wheel and steer."
"Dad, I've done this before you know."
"I know, just reminding you if you forgot."
"Gee thanks." I said in a sarcastic tone.
We took our positions and began to push towards the exit of pit road. It wasn't a long distance, but pushing a race car is no fun either. You may be wondering why we have to push the car to that location instead of driving it. Well, when practice first begins, you have to go through inspection. Inspection consists of the officials checking for the correct settings of the car, as well as safety. The spoiler's position, ride height, and safety harnesses are just a few.
We reached our destination, revealing two cars in front of us. They had officials looking things over by the looks of it. We pushed the car behind the number 27 car, of who I was not familiar with. The ground was level enough that we could let go of he car and relax.
"Hey dad, can I see the roster you have?"
He pulled out the roster from his back pocket. I looked at how many drivers were competing. A total of 37. The number of starting spots, 32. Five people would be going home.
I never worried too much, I always qualified well. Usually the younger kids went home, showing little experience but once in awhile one would make the race. If they did, they'd race for a few laps and call it quits, just to get some much needed experience.
I rolled the roster back up and handed it back to dad. Looking past him, I saw that Trip and his dad were pushing the car to get in line. He'd be right behind me. The car in front of moved forward, signaling that I had to move my car up to get it looked at. Dad and I pushed the car forward, until the officials said that it was good. A younger gal came up to me, that of a leopard she was. She had a good body and pulled the short shorts off well that she wore.
She said with a smile, "My name is Kristy and I'll be taking your name please."
"Allan Rouse. Car number 99."
"Mhm, alright. By the looks of it, you will have to qualify on time or go home. I wish you luck!"
"Thanks, how many are locked in?" I asked.
She replied, "Lets see... Fourteen drivers. All past winners of last season."
"Alright, thanks again."
"No problem. When the officials are done, you may enter the track. Just be careful when you exit because teams will still be lining up for inspection."
I gave her a nod and waited for the officials to be done. Trip made his way up to make and said with a grin, "Inspection huh? Fun stuff!"
"Yeah, it's always a pleasure." I said sarcastically.
"Don't get too excited now Al!"
I shook my head at him and heard the roar of the first car hitting the track. It sent the chills down my spine. The sound of a V8, nothing quite like it.
"Damn that sounds great!" Exclaimed Trip.
"It's music to my ears! I wanna start mine up!"
"Don't we all!?"
One of the officials came over and tapped me on the shoulder, signaling that I was all good to go. I gave him a thumbs up and looked over for dad. He wondered off and was talking to Trip's dad. I walked over and lightly hit him on the arm.
"Hey! What was that for?" He said in a louder voice, the sound of the V8 drowning him out.
I gave him the thumbs up and he knew the signal.
I looked over to Trip and said, "See you out on he track." I put my paw out for a handshake.
"The best of luck to you Al." Trip replied, taking my paw and shaking it.
Dad and I took our positions again, him in he rear, me on the side, and pushed the car forward to an empty space. There, I pulled the helmet out of the car and turned on the radio system. This allowed my dad and I to communicate out on the track. I made sure everything was working properly and pit it back in the car. The sound of another car roared to life, now I was antsy! The first car pit it into gear and rolled off to the track, the rear tires howling.
My dad looked at me and said, "Now, this is going to be fun. Enjoy it and be safe. Don't push the car too hard at first, let the tires heat up for grip. Once you're comfortable, let loose. I'll be standing up on the racer stands. Good luck buddy."
I smiled at what my dad said and gave him a hug, it shocked him by the looks of it. Hell, it even shocked me a little bit.
"Thanks for everything."
"Don't mention it. Now get out there and go kick some ass!" He yelled.
Breaking the hug, I climbed back into the car. I took a seat and put the hans device around my neck, then the helmet. After I strapped it on tightly, I reached for my gloves on the dash and put them on. I toggled the power switch, holding up the ignition button, the engine coming to life. I nearly cried out in joy. I checked my mirrors to see if they were adjusted right, which they were. I stepped on the clutch and put the car into first gear. Giving it some gas and releasing the clutch pedal, the tires spun for a quick second and I was on my way.
Gaining speed, I made my way out of pit road, shifting to second. As you exited, you came into turn three, then four, and across the finish line. The straightaways are roughly 300 feet and the turns are about 180 feet long with a twelve foot bank. The main line on the track is the bottom, the shortest and quickest way around. However, the more and more cars that would be on the track would move up, creating the second racing line up high.
Entering turn three quickly, I threw it into third and made my way to the front stretch. Midway through, I shifted up to the last gear, fourth.
The first turn was coming up quickly, and I became nervous. I braked early, scrubbing off speed. Coasting through the turn, I slowly got back on the accelerator, exiting two. I mashed the pedal to the floor, taking off like a bullet out of a gun. That didn't last too long, for I found myself slamming the brake, trying to get the car to turn into three. It didn't. I moved up to the high lane, which wasn't worked in yet. The loose rubber particles on the top of the track got on my right side tires, making them feel as if they were flat. Exiting four, I accelerated slowly, making my way to pit road.
"Dad, you there?" I said nervously on the radio.
"Loud and clear. Looks like you over drove it buddy. Loosen up a bit." He said calmly.
"I'm coming to pit road to do just that. Car is way too tight for my liking. Front end plowed through that corner."
"Ugh, alright. We'll take some wedge out of the car to loosen things up." He said in an agitated tone.
I slowly came on pit road and stopped by my pit area. Dad came running over and got the tool to put in the rear window to loosen the car. The window had three holes of which led to the suspension. The top left was for the front end of the car. Depending on which way you went, clockwise or counterclockwise, it would tighten or loosen the front end.
"How many rounds Allan? One and a half sound good?"
"Naw, lets make it two dad."
"Are you sure? Don't want to over adjust."
"Trust me, the car is dead tight!"
"Alright."
He made two full turns counterclockwise, loosening the car up. He made his way over to the left side, examine if the tired were OK. He gave me a thumbs up and I made my way back out.
Dad came on the radio and said, "Be careful, other teams are lining up still. Make your way around them slowly."
I did just that and entered the track once more, rowing through the gears until I reached fourth. The car felt better, easier to turn and I soon got into a groove. I wasn't pressing too hard yet, I still needed to get comfortable with things. By now, multiple cars were on the track, which made things all the more nerve racking. I kept a steady pace, but was one of the slower cars on the track. I would move up high when a car wanted to pass, which I hated doing. I looked into my rear view mirror and saw a car coming up on me. Exiting four, I stayed high so the driver could pass. As the car went by, I noticed it was Trip.
"Oh hell no!" I said loudly over the radio.
"What?" Replied my dad.
"Nothing. Trip just passed me, not gunna fly."
"Allan, be careful. Don't do anything stupid."
"Dad, it's me we are talking about!"
"That's what I'm afraid of."
I gripped the wheel tighter, and pulled behind Trip. I was going to follow his line. He entered the corners low and exited them low as well. It was a different line than what I was used to, but it worked. I followed him for five laps until I had enough. I put on a large smile and said, "Trip, move over, the fox is coming through."
I stayed right on his rear bumper going into the turn, putting pressure on him. Exiting the corner, I remained right on his tail. Goin through the next corner I got a good run on him and moved up high. My left fender made its way to his door, but that's as far as I could get. We ran side by side, Trip low, myself high. Going into the next corner I drove it in hard, turning he wheel hard to make the car turn. I had the advantage up high by keeping my momentum up. I didn't clear him all the way though, and he made his attack in the next corner, clearing me once more and moving up in front of me.
I shook my head and made an evasive move to the inside. Trip wasn't expecting that and didn't give me any room. My foot slammed on the brakes, locking the rear wheels up. The rear end came out from under me, sending me into the center of the track, into the grass.
I came to a stop and sat there, catching my breath. I killed the car when I stopped. The engine silent, dad came on the radio.
"Woohoo! That was close! Good racin there! You didn't hit anything so get the car started back up and come on in the pits. Caution is out, so make your way back onto he track. Clear, clear, go for it."
I quickly started the car up again and got out of the grass, back on track. I kept the car under a reasonable speed and entered pit road once more. I felt sick inside. That was close, if I wouldn't have gotten on the brakes that hard, I may have of hit Trip, crashing him. I let the best of me beat me this time. It wouldn't happen again. I saw Trip's car parked in his area, and I pulled into mine, shutting down the car again.
I took of the safety harnesses, my helmet, and then my hans device. I was hot, really hot and I didn't even run that many laps yet. "Damn nerves." I thought to myself.
Getting ahold of myself, I climbed out. Dad walked over to me and patted me on the back, clipboard in hand. I gave him a weak smile and walked over to Trip's car. By the looks of it, he was still in it. I slowly made my way to his window and saw that the racing net was down, Trip inside.
"Hey." I said half-heartily.
He gazed towards me with his helmet still on. He unbuckled the strap and took it off, replying with a "Damn!"
"Sorry about that Trip, nearly got into you there."
"It's no biggy, I should have given you some room. I didn't know you would turn the car that fast and get a run on me."
"I surprised myself too." I said.
He asked, "Is the car all good?"
"Yeah, just went for a little off road skirmish."
"Well that's good. I'm making a quick adjustment, more like my dad is but it's all the same."
"I see that, car too tight?"
"Yup. Won't turn worth beans."
"I had the same problem, came in earlier to fix it. Took two rounds out."
"That's what I told my dad to do." Trip said bluntly.
"Well, the best of luck to you Trip. I'll be back out in an hour or so."
"Thanks man, you too."
I left his car and walked back over to mine.
"So dad, what's the deal?"
"Well, the tires look good, didn't flat spot them or flatten 'em. Gunna take a break?"
"Yeah, I need some water. What was the quickest time you clocked in for me?"
"A 32.91. You're gunna have to pick the pace."
"Psh, I'll say so." I said in a pissy tone.
Anything past a 32.55 was not good. Anything below that would almost guarantee a starting spot. We had some work to do.
I walked in the trailer, somewhat frustrated with myself. I grabbed a water out of the mini fridge and looked at the time, 10:24 AM. Still pretty early, but I though I would give Gwen a call to see what she had decided to do. I went over to my locker, grabbing my phone and punching her number in. It rang three times until she picked up.
"Hey! How's my racer boy doing?"
"Not so good Gwen. Ran a slow time overall and I spun out already. Talk about a rough start."
"I'm sorry, you'll be find Allan, just clear your head. Don't think, just do."
"Easier said than done."
"I know."
"So are you with the moms?" I asked.
"Yes, we left around ten and are at the mall right now. Just looking around in different stores. I'll have a little surprise for you when we get some alone time." Gwen said in a kinky voice.
"I could only imagine!"
"Don't! You need to concentrate, remember?"
"Yeah yeah yeah! I know. I'll do better, just have to get in the zone."
"And I bet you will."
"Well, I better get going. I miss you Gwen."
"Al, I miss you too. I'll talk to you later, bye."
"Bye."
I hung up the phone and placed it back in the locker on the shelf. Maybe it was good I talked to her, give me some motivation that I desperately needed.
Turning around, I walked back to the car. I told dad that I was ready to go, so he walked back over to the racer stands. Meanwhile, I hopped back in the car, putting the gear back on. Starting up the car, I put her in gear and left pit road, entering the track once more. Round three.
For the next hour and a half, I spent most of the time getting the car set up for the bottom. It was good, but it could have been better. More and more rubber was being laid out on the track, and when that happened, my car started to get loose exiting the corners. I wasn't the only one having troubles, a couple of cars spun out, one tapping the wall in front of me.
The sun rose higher and higher, heating up the track, making the surface even more slippery. By noon, most of the cars that were inspected were off he track, taking a break. I was one of the last cars off, getting all I could get. My fuel gauge was getting on the low side, and I was sweating like I was in a desert. After getting the much needed time on the track, I decided to call it quits.
I pulled off quickly and stopped in the our pit area. I pulled the car under the awning so it would be shaded from the sun. I put the window net down, took my helmet, gloves, and hans device off and climbed out of the car. I unzipped the top part of my racing suit to get some much needed air in. Taking a seat in a chair with water I'm hand, I felt like I was in a damn sauna! Dad walked over and gave me a look.
"Hot are we Al?"
"Hell yeah! You have no clue."
"The wonders of being a racecar driver in hot weather!"
I gave him a smirk and asked him for the quickest time I laid down.
"An improvement of a 32.6 flat. Getting closer to the goal mark." He said happily.
"Hm, not too bad. The car is starting to get loose out of the corners now. The hot weather isn't helping much."
"It certainly isn't. Well, wanna get some lunch back at the RV? I'm a little hungry myself."
"Sounds great!"
We walked off towards the RV, the sun beating down on us. I teasingly asked what my dad was going to make for me, he not giving me an answer. As we headed through the parking lot, I noticed that there were some cars. The people must have been filing in to see what's going on. Reaching the RV, we went on in, our stomachs begging to be fed.
Dad dug around in the fridge while I went to the facilities to relieve myself. By the looks of my piss, I seemed to be somewhat dehydrated. I came out and grabbed a water, chugging must of the contents down.
"Thirsty enough? The hose is outside." My dad said jokingly.
"You could say that. Did you find anything good?" I asked.
"Found some brats, they would be good barbecued on the grill."
"Sounds terrific!" I exclaimed.
"In that case, get the grill out from the storage in the back and light her up."
I gave him an exhausted look, but I was hungry, so I did what I was told. In the back of the RV, there was a mini storage compartment that we would put the grill and road hazard items, stuff like that. I opened it up, grabbed the small grill, the device that held the coals together, and some Kingsford charcoal.
I walked out in front of the side door, making sure not to be under the awning. I set it up, putting the coals in the device and shoving paper under it. After that I got some matches and lit the paper, heating the coals. Smoke filled the air, as did Trip's voice.
"Watcha cookin?" He asked.
"Just some brats. You want some?"
"No thanks, already ate a minute ago. So did you stay on the track all this time?"
I responded casually, "Yessiree, I need all the practice I can get. I'm still about a tenth off of a decent lap, what about you?"
"About the same, the track is just heating up more than we all expected. Cars can't get grip, so we're running slower out there."
"Ugh, I know. Couple of guys lost it while I was out, the 74 car tapped the wall in front of me, sucks to be him."
Trip didn't say much after that, we just kicked at the ground until my dad came out. He poured the coals onto the grill, placing the beer brats on to cook. The wonderful scent filled my nose.
Looking over to Trip, I said, "Sure smells good. Sure you don't want one?"
"Those do smell good, but if I eat anymore, I'll regret it." Trip said with a sad face.
The brats didn't take long to cook and I soon found myself grabbing two. Trip and I sat in my RV while dad went out to talk to Bill. I swallowed the first one in one bite, and I noticed Trip gave me a look.
I said, "Don't say it."
He sat there quietly, but not for long.
"Al, I couldn't help but noticed how quickly you shoved that thick, juicy hot dog down your throat. Enjoy it?"
"Fine, I'll bite. Yes Trip, I enjoyed every second of it like it was my last."
I picked up the Other brat, but this time took small bites so Trip wouldn't say anything. However, he still had something to say.
"Well Al, now you're the nibbler. Easy as it goes." Trip said with a stupid grin.
"Trip, when I'm done, which I am, I'm going to kick your ass to the moon!"
"Bahahahahaha! Lets see it!"
I slowly got up and threw my paper plate away. I turned around and said, "After you."
Trip got up and walked over to the door. He opened it, and I saw this was my chance. I jumped on his back, holding on for dear life. Dirty, I know. I should have faced him face to face, but I figured I'd get the jump on his sorry ass for once. He lost his balance, stumbling upon the dirt with me right on top of him. We rolled around, kicking up dust. I tired to lock my arms around his chest, but that didn't work. He was a lot more stronger than me. Instead, he pulled a reversal on me, grabbing my arms and putting them behind my back. He pushed me to the ground and sat on top of me.
Breathing heavily, Trip said, "Damn... You've gotten... Better. But you can't beat... Me."
I couldn't even say anything, I was too tired and embarrassed. I almost had him!
"Not gunna talk... Al? I could make you eat dirt for dessert!"
"Get... Off... Of me... You giant mammoth!" I yelled.
"If you say please..."
"F-f-f-uck, you!"
"Now now Allan, that's not nice!"
Trip got off of me but I didn't get up. I just laid on the ground in defeat. My shirt was all dirty, as was my racing suit. Trip was leaning on he RV as if nothing happened. I gave him a dirty look, I seriously wanted to beat him to a pulp! Have you ever gotten that feeling about one of your friends? I just did.
I slowly got up, and walked towards Trip. I stopped in front of him, putting my paw out. He took it in his larger hand and shook it.
"Glad we're cool." Trip said.
"Yeah, bask in your glory while you still can, I'll get you one day."
I walked back in he RV and cleaned up a bit. I couldn't wait to get in the shower later. I felt absolutely dirty, from head to toe. After cleaning up a bit, I went back out and met up with dad. It was now around 2, so we decided to head back to the car for one last practice run.
Reaching pit road, I heard the familiar sound of cars going around he track. Most of the cars were on pit lane, getting adjustments taken care of or just taking a break. Dad and I reached my car. I grabbed the large fuel can and needed help refueling the car. Once full, I suited back up, hopped in the car and started the engine, the V8 roaring to life. Dad came on the radio and said, "Al, warm up for a couple of laps, then attack it. We need to improve your time a little bit. Got it?"
"Yup. Am I clear to go?"
"Yes, take it slow. Don't push the car too much when you get out of three when you're shifting up. Bill said that a few cars have spun out from doing so."
I took that note in my head, driving off of pit road. I took it easy accelerating and when I hit the front stretch, I let the car go. Here was more cars on the track Han earlier, so I would have to be careful. Warming up, I once again got a feeling for the car. It felt better, probably because there was some shade in turns three and four. I ran ten laps quickly, passing two cars. I must have been improving sense I passed some people on the track. After completing fifteen laps, I put the pedal to the metal.
The car felt responsive, not overly tight in the corners, yet not too loose. Changing lanes was a breeze, I even passed a car running up high. My confidence slowly began to build. Clear of cars, I decided it was a good time to run a qualify lap. I pushed the car to its limits, accelerating hard, braking hard and turning hard. The car rolled through the corners well, and the rear end stuck to the track. Crossing the finish line, I went back in the pits for an update from dad. I rolled in under the awning and shut be car off. I took my helmet off for some air. I took the safety net down and waited for dad to come over.
He stuck his head through the window and said, "Allan, I think we are good. I clocked in a 32.39. We are under by a tenth. Congratulations!"
A smile came across my face, I felt so relieved! All that hard worked seemed to pay off.
I asked, "What's Trips time?"
"Let me look..."
Dad flipped through the sheet and found he quickest time recorded.
"His quickest lap is a 32.33. Not too much quicker than us."
I gave a nod. We talked a little more about he car, how it felt, if anything needed to be tuned. We decided to run the car until the fuel got low once again. For the rest of practice, I spent the time out on he track, trying to make the high groove work. It didn't work out too well though, just not enough rubber was laid down. I then tried running mid-track when knead clear of cars. This allows me to get a better run and I ran some pretty consistent lap times. Time flew by, dad came on the radio and said, "Time to come on in. Practice is nearing a close."
I pulled the car in pit lane, shutting it off. I took my helmet off, along with the gloves and hans device. I climbed out and walked in the trailer, changing back into some normal clothes. I grabbed my phone and checked the time, 5:17. I also had a voicemail from Gwen. I listened to it and she said that she would be back around 5:30 to 6.
Dad and I put away all of he tools and lastly, we pushed the car back in the trailer, locking her up for the night. The sun began to disappear behind the mountains, giving off an orange-ish glow.
I walked over to Trip's area, noticing that they just pushed the car in. His dad began to lock it up as I talked with Trip.
"So, overall a good day?" I asked.
"I would say so, and yourself?"
"Pretty good, reached a decent lap time. So, there's that parent thing going on tonight, what are you going to do?"
"Oh yeah, well, I dunno. Hang with you probably. Unless you and Gwen have something planned."
"Hmm, I'm not sure yet. She'll get back in half an hour or so. Went shopping with the moms."
"Oh fun." Trip replied sarcastically.
Bill came over and gave Trip a pat on the back, telling him he did a good job. He then walked over to my dad and they soon started up another conversation.
Trip and I decided to go back to the RVs and take a shower. The walk back seemed to take forever, my legs feeling as if they were jello, especially my left from pushing in the clutch pedal. Reaching the motor homes, we parted ways.
I walked in, heading straight for the bathroom. I took my casual clothes off and sat on the toilet, not wanting to get up. I could have probably fallen asleep there! I got enough energy that I stepped in the shower. I cleaned myself up, from the top of my ears all the way down to my furry toes. Gwen popped inky mind, and I became a little aroused. I felt my boner in my sheath, but I controlled myself. Turning of the water, I dried myself off and went across to the bunk area. I dug through my duffle bag and put some deodorant on, along with some cologne. I wanted to smell good. I rustled around for some pants and I found my black pair, my favorite ones. They made my ass look good, no joke. I found an American Eagle shirt and put that on as well. Grabbing some socks, I made my way over to the couch, turning on the tv.
I watched Animal Cops for a few minutes but the door opened and I looked back, seeing my mom and Gwen enter.