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Total number of drivers 40. Number of company teams 10. Number of tracks 20. Number of countries 12. Time frame 6 months. Number of Fallen Angels hooked on speed 2. The McGuire sisters are and they’re out for blood in the newly founded International Stockcar Racing Association. After two years driving the Formula One circuit Professional Drivers Roberta Bobbie McGuire and her sister Elisabeth ‘Beth’ McGuire have made real names for themselves. The two young ladies took the world by storm in their first year by placing 3rd and 4th in the Championship points race. Now their plans and dreams of starting in the International Stockcar Association have come to fruition. The Fury twins plan to prove to the world they belong in Stockcar Racing. And they don’t care who they have to put into the wall to bring home the inaugural championship.

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Chapter 7
Early Friday morning, Mitsubishi Island Speedway, Chiba, Japan

As I stood on top of the car hauler looking around the track, I still can’t believe that less than three years ago that none of this was even here including the island. I have to give it to the people of Japan. When they set their minds to something. They get the job done. Usually in spectacular fashion. This track attests to that fact. Everywhere I look all I can see is top quality workmanship. Even the grandstands have padded seats for the general fans. The true jewel of this island though is the 2.5-mile-long concrete track itself. I can’t wait to get out there and lay down a few highspeed laps. I was right about it being the bastard child of Martinsville and Drove Speedways. The Miles the Monster and the Paperclip went out for a one-night stand of wild drunken sex and had a baby.

“What do ya see Speedy?” I turn to face my dad as he climbed on top of the trailer next to me. “What does your gut tell you about this track?”

“This bad boy is going to eat tires like a cop at an all you can eat donut shop.” I tell him as I turn back to facing the concrete track. “I figure that for about five to ten laps after a pitstop we’ll have great traction.”

“What about fuel mileage? How do you think the track conditions will affect the cars when it comes to mileage?” Dad questioned me.

“That is the one question that I don’t have an answer for dad.” I told him honestly. “I need to put down ten to fifteen practice laps before I can tell you. The banking in the turns and down the straightaways is going to play a major part in fuel consumption.”

“What about the speeds Bobbie? Do you think you’ll be able to push the red line on this track?” Dad asked me with a smile in his voice.

“Maybe, maybe not. Once again it’ll all come down to the banking.” I told him honestly. “I do wish that we had marked this track down as one of our test tracks. I’d be able to give you better answers.”

“It was mine and your mother’s decision to skip testing on this track for our team.” Dad said as he stepped up next to me.

“Why did we skip testing on this track dad?” I asked him.

“We knew that Mitsubishi was the love child of Martinsville and Drove. To that end your mother had your cars setup for a loose run at Drove. It should give you kids more than enough room out there to play. Though there is one problem that we haven’t been able to figure out.” Dad explained. “Fuel mileage. That is the one thing no one has been able to figure out.”

“What you mean dad?” I asked him.

“Of the six teams that came here to test their cars. None of them have been able to get a lock on the mileage game line yet.” Dad explained.

“Speaking of teams dad. Has the final listing reach us yet?” I asked him.

“Yup. It came in yesterday while you were still clearing customs.” Dad handed me a sheet of paper with the full listings of all the teams and their drivers. I quickly started reading the official notice from the Commission.

To: All ISA Drivers and Owners
From: Irina Stumpfegger Chairwoman

Drivers and owners please be aware that as of the Mitsubishi Top Ramen Noddle 400 that unless there is a medical or contractual reason the field of drivers is now fixed. The listed replacement drivers are the only drivers that can be called upon for a medical replacement. These replacement drivers shall be paid by the ISA to be on standby at each event. If they are requested to drive for one of the teams it is the team’s responsibility to pay that replacement for their time on the track. If the replacement driver should have the misfortune to wreck, they cannot be held responsible for the damages to the team car until a full investigation has been completed into the wreck. Please refer to the table below for a full listing of all drivers and teams.
Sincerely,

Irina Stumpfegger
Irina Stumpfegger
Chairwoman
International Stockcar Association

Team listings

McGuire Racing

1. Bobbie McGuire (f)
2. Beth McGuire Towers (f)
3. Sam Hurley- driver
4. James ‘Jim’ Fields- Driver

Reynolds Racing

1. George Baker
2. Bobby Parker
3. Oscar Johnson
4. Rosie John (f)

King Night

1. Hitarashi Sukejuro
2. Kuno Junzo
3. Sakurazaki Mashai
4. Mori Unkei (f)

Red Star

1. Nazarova Grigorievna
2. Koychev Fyodorovich
3. Abdulov Germanovich
4. Rokossovsky Aleskeevich (f)

Horn Thomas

1. Ben Baldwin
2. Ronan Bain
3. Nathan Watson
4. Alexa Peters (f)

Bisbee Snider

1. Caleb McLean
2. Joseph Lachman
3. Seth Fisher
4. Violet Knight (f)

Northern Alliance

1. Stijn Bargboer
2. Louwrens Hartman
3. Elco Schrijvers
4. Elle Harbert (f)

Thunder Valley

1. Siegmund Kühne
2. Marc Wimmer
3. Joel Franz
4. Larissa Andris (f)

Prototype Outcast

1. Raniero Accomando
2. Gerino Rosetta
3. Panos Kontotis
4. Sabina Altimari (f)

Les Ailes de Justice

1. Jules Grinda
2. Léonard Carrell
3. Lilian Picard
4. Christen Dior (f)

Replacement Drivers

1. Wit Zoladz (Poland)
2. Florentyn Zoladz (Poland)
3. Julia Stencil (Poland) (f)
4. Robert Morgan (USA)
5. Rufus Graham (USA)
6. Helen Alexander (USA) (f)
7. Temperance Dickson (UK)(f)
8. Ted Mitchell (UK)
9. Marshall Morgan (UK)
10. Diamante Rosa (Italy) (f)
11. Debora Rosa (Italy) (f)
12. Sicuro Catalano (Italy)
13. Björn Künstler (Germany)
14. Simon Gutenberg (Germany)
15. Angelika Schellscheidt (Germany) (f)

“Damn. The Chairwoman must have her tits over the fire if the Commission has fifteen backup drivers just waiting to jump into a car. What the hell is going on here dad?” I asked after reading the memo.

“You’re right Irina Stumpfegger’s tits are over the fire. And you’re not to repeat this to anyone. The ISA is in deep trouble already Bobbie.” Dad told me with a harshness I haven’t heard in a long time.

“What’s going on dad?”

“You know that the ISA backers are pushing for more races. What you don’t know is where they’re pushing for those races to happen.” I could already tell that what dad was about to tell me didn’t sit well with a lot of the other team owners. “I will tell you that we don’t have a horse in this race. To your mother and me we’ll race anywhere any time.”

“Let me guess dad. The backers are wanting more races in the US and on the short tracks. Am I right?” I asked as I cooked my head to the side.

“Not even close. What the backers want are more Superspeedways. There are tracks in Germany, Italy, France, Poland, Russia, and Austria that can be classified as Superspeedways. It will add an additional six races to the season. The problem is the other three US backers and four sponsors want those six races to be held on short tracks in the US. Namely the backers and sponsors for the NASCAR short tracks like Bristol, Dover, and Martinsville.” Dad left the threat that the other NASCAR backers were making unsaid.

“Let me guess. The US backers are all threatening to pull out. Am I right?”

“In a nutshell. Our team sponsors are fine with the additional races in Europe.” Dad sighed then grinned. “That little radio interview you and Beth gave two weeks ago has really drawn a lot of attention too our fledgling sport among the Diehard NASCAR fans back home.”

“That and the wrecks, plus the fights on pit road. Can’t forget about those. Not after the way Hitarashi Sukejuro and Bobby Parker got into at Daytona. What was it the announcer said, ‘shades of Cale Yarborough and the Allison's’.” I got a chuckle out of that fight. “Though I have to say it remind me more of that nasty fight between Jeff Gordon and Brad Keselowski, you know the one that I’m talking about. The one involving their crews after the two crashed in the Texas night race of two-thousand-fourteen. Especially when their pit crews got involved.”

Dad chuckled at my comparison of the Hitarashi-Parker fight. “I thought it was more like the Logano-Busch feud of twenty-seventeen. Though we won’t know until this afternoon. Not until those two get out there and run their test laps. If they let the wreck and fight from Daytona go then we’ll go with the Yarborough-Allison fight of seventy-nine. If they go at each other out on the track. Then we go with the Gordon-Keselowski fight of fourteen. If it goes for the full season, then it’s got to be the Logano-Bush feud of seventeen. Are we in agreement?”

I thought about what dad was saying and smiled. “Deal. Now what does my interview have to do with the US backers pushing for more races on the US short tracks? It’s not like NASCAR is just going to let us race on those tracks. Hell, it took more than three years of negotiations just to get the speedways and superspeedways that we do have.”

“That is the problem. Because the first two races were held at superspeedways in the US the sports small fan base has jumped through the roof. Not just in the US. Around the world in every country we’re scheduled to race.” I gave dad a disbelieving look. “I’m not kidding Bobbie. The broadcasts of those two races were number ten in the market for Pocono, and number four for Daytona. The broadcast producer for tomorrow’s race is predicting that we be number two for the market word wide. The ISA is taking off like a rocket.”

“Damn. I would never have expected that can of acceptance so soon. What the hell is driving the fan based? It has to be more than just the wrecks and fights. I know that we’re turning in some of massive speed records for the tracks. So far anyway.” I told him.

“Those are just part of the draw Bobbie.” Dad looked around to make sure we were alone. “The biggest draw is you and the other female drivers.”

“WHAT? Come on dad you have got to be pulling my leg.” I countered.

“I’m not Bobbie. I want you to think about something. You got eleven full time female drivers and six part time female drivers all of whom are good looking, in their twenties, and most are single. Most of whom can walk any runaway in the world. On the other side of the line you got twenty-nine full-time and nine part time male drivers. Of which only half are in their twenties good looking and single. While the rest of the male drivers have a face that only a mother could love. Who do you think is the bigger draw?” Dad smirked then snorted at my look of disgust. “I hate to say this but sex sales. It doesn’t matter the venue kiddo. To the world at large you and the other women drivers are the face of our sport. You more so than the others.”

“Okay dad I’m calling bullshit on that one. How the hell can I be some sex symbol to the world? Everyone knows that I’m married.” I countered.

“That may be the case Bobbie. But did you know that your licensed sportswear, sports memorabilia, and other merchandise, is the fastest selling of all the other drivers with one exception. Your sister is tied with you on that front.” Dad chuckled at the look of total disbelief on my face. “You look like a big mouth bass kiddo. Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

“Well I knew that my royalty checks have been larger lately dad. I just didn’t put two and two together. I just thought that I had an upswing from the old Formula One stuff. Now that I’m no longer racing that circuit it has become kind of like collector material.” I countered. “I know that Tamiya and Revell have requested another twenty-four-thousand unites of both Beth and mine’s Formula One racers from last year.”

“More than just those kiddo. You need to talk to your wife about the flood of requests for t-shirts, ballcaps, travel cups, and a whole slew of other shit. Issy has been after Kelly to get you and your sister to sign off a shirt and shorts combo for the both of you.” Dad said with a chuckle. “I swear Kelly has made more work for herself with every deal she works for you and the other drivers. What I want to know is where she learned to wheel and deal like she does? There hasn’t been one of those suit monkeys that she hasn’t cowed in under thirty seconds.”

“Dad, remember who she’s married too.” Beth said as she climbed onto the roof of the car hauler smiling. “Kelly honed her skills against the most pigheaded person in our family.”

Dad chuckled and I just stuck my tongue out at my sister. I love Beth with all my heart. But like all siblings we do fight. Especially out on the track during a race on the last lap. Never let it be said that either of us let the other win. Doesn’t matter what track we’re on. “Bite my ass.”

“Sorry sister dear, you’re cute and all but sadly I’m not into the whole incest thing.” Beth counter quickly with a smile.

“One of these days pow! To the moon sister dear.” I snarled.

“Okay girls give it a rest.” Dad scolded the two of us before turning to Beth. “So, what brings you up here?”

“Mom said that you and Bobbie were up here studying the track. I thought that I might be able to give Bobbie and you both my insight into the track.” Beth answered with no hostility.

“What’d ya figure out sis?” I asked.

“That this race is going to be more than just a fuel management race. We were all out there this morning running the track. The only ones that might have a better grasp on it is Kathy and Coach Hall.” Beth looked out at the track with grim determination. “This track is a monster with something to prove. There are going to be a lot of cars heading for the scrapyard by the end of the race tomorrow night.”

“How do you figure that Beth?” I asked her.

“It’s the banking. The concrete will eat away at the tires sure, but the banking is going to eat away at our fuel mileage. We’ll have to carry a whole lot more speed down the straightaways just to hold our line. All that speed will force us further out towards the far edge of the track. We can basically forget about the bottom line for the first quarter of the race. The fastest away around is going to be on the outside. It may have been inspired by Martinsville, but this beast is what the Monster Mile would become if it had the room to grow. It’ll test more than just our cars.” Beth said just before taking a deep breath. “It’ll test not only our physical endurance but our mental endurance as well.”

“The only upside to this race is the length. I won’t want to do five hundred miles on this fucker. Four hundred is going to be bad enough.” I bitched.

“Okay kids, what are you two talking about? Give it to me from an engineer’s point of view.” Dad snapped.

“Beth this is your field. You’re the engineering student.” I grunted.

“Think about it dad. The banking is nonstop all the way around the track. Even the straightaways have a decent banking to them. We’ll be getting hit with the side g-forces all the way around. Even under yellow flag conditions we’ll still have to do fifty plus to stay out of the infield in the corners. That banking is brutal going into the turns. One slip of concentration and you’re out of the grove plowing up grass at either end of the track. You lose your concentration on the straightaways your banging into the inside retaining walls. It doesn’t matter where you lose your concentration on this beast. You’re going to eat either retaining wall or grass.” Beth explained for dad. “The real danger is going to be after the yellows.”

“Let me guess. Yellow flags are going to breed more yellow flags. Is that what you’re saying, sweetheart?” Dad asked of Beth. She just nodded her head yes. “Damn. I thought that we had gotten away from that for a while.”

“Dad, I think that situation will be haunting this sport at every track we go to. Before you say it won’t I want you to think about something.” I said as I held up my hand. “The majority of our drivers have come over from the other auto-sports. That means the majority of them will fall into the trap of the yellow flag viper.”

“Damn it! I hadn’t thought about how the non-Stockcar drivers would be affected by the deferent rules for yellow flags. Do you have any idea of how they react to the Big One?” Dad asked us both.

“After what I’ve seen over the last two races. I think that is one fear we don’t have to worry about. Most of the drivers are new to pack racing sure.” I answered dad after a few seconds of thought. “But they’re getting the hang of the idea now. Most have realized that the only real advantage they have out there is the draft and their teammates.”

“What do you think Beth?” Dad asked her quickly.

“It’s not the Big One that we have to worry about dad. So, far we’re the only team that hasn’t gotten caught up in the Big One. Sure, Sam and Jim have had some bad luck but nothing too crazy.” Beth looked over at turn 4 turning cold and analytical. Pointing towards outer wall of turn 4. “The first wreck of the race will come right there. Someone is going to push their car coming off turn three into turn four. The moment that happens this monster is going to reach out and grab them by the ass.”

Dad sighed and finished Beth’s sentence for her. “Then it will be all over except for the cleanup. Any idea of when the Big One will come?”

“To tell you the truth dad, no. It’s like Beth said. This race is going to be the true test of our skills. This track is like no other in the world.” I turned to look over at the back straightaway. “The straightaways are just as dangerous as the turns with their banking. It’s not going to matter where the Big One will happen. It’ll only be a matter of time.”

Dad just sighed and looked down at his watch. “Okay girls we got two hours before you can start your practice runs. When you get out there, I want you both to take it easy for the first five laps. For the next five slowly build up your speed until lap ten. After that you can open them up for the next ten. If you figure something during your runs don’t think twice about bringing in your cars. We’ll make the needed adjustments as we go.”

“Are we going to get those twenty laps?” Beth asked harshly.

“The ISA officials have promised every team that didn’t come here last week twenty practice laps today. Of the ten teams only three teams didn’t show last week. US, King Night, and Prototype Outcasts.” Dad sighed heavily. “King Night didn’t need to practice because this is one of their two home tracks. The Outcasts are saving their tests runs for Berlin, Warsaw, and Mosco.”

“Which tracks did you and mom schedule for our testing?” Beth asked. “I know that we get three of the International tracks to choose from.”

“Your mother thought is would be best if we used Rockingham, in the UK. Rome, in Italy, and keep our third choice open.” Dad explained with a grin.

The moment I heard we were keeping our third choice open I knew that dad had something up his sleeve. “Okay dad. Give. What’s the plan?”

“Sooner or later one of the other teams is going to need a practice at the tracks in the US. We keep that practice until they come to us. Then we trade for one of their overseas practices.” Dad grinned evilly. “And it won’t cost us our normal advantage on the tracks that we know better than them.”

I thought about what dad was saying. It made perfect sense to me. Of the 20 tracks that we would race on over the season 7 were in the US. All 7 were tracks that me, Beth, Sam, and Jim have either raced or ran test runs at. That was the biggest advantage MRI had over the other teams. We had firsthand knowledge of one third of the tracks we will race on beforehand. I finally busted out laughing. Beth was right behind me.

When I finally regained my composure, I gave dad a nasty look. “That is downright sneaky dad. Do you think the other teams have tipped to your plan?”

“I highly doubt it. Even if they do it’s too late.” Dad grinned that evil smile of his when he is up to something nasty. “Our plan is already in motion and there is nothing the Commissioners can do to stop it.”

When dad let out his Evil Villain Laugh number four, I knew that the other teams were in for a nasty wakeup call. His next words just confirmed my fears. “You got to remember something kids. Most of the crew chiefs and senior mechanics for the other teams came over from the other motorsports.”

“Okay pop. What do you mean by that? It’s not like they don’t understand oval track racing. Especially the ones that came over from Indy.” Beth grunted. Her words hit me between the eyes though. I knew exactly what dad was getting at the moment she said oval track racing.

“Um… Beth I think you need to take a step back in your reasoning.” Beth gave me a funny look. I looked over at dad and knew that I would have to explain it to her. “Beth how many of the other crew chiefs are from Indy teams?”

“I think three. No wait. Only two are from Indy. So?” Beth answered quickly.

“Now. How many are from NASCAR?” I asked her.

“Well let me think.” Beth stared over at turn 2 thinking. “Not counting dad and those on our teams. I think six in total.”

“Nope. Wrong answer. There are only four other NASCAR trained crew chiefs. They’re all on the same team, Thunder Valley.” I corrected her. I took a deep breath. “Of the ten teams we have the most experience crew chiefs in the field of Stockcar racing. Thunder Valley’s crew chiefs only have two years as crew chiefs for Stockcar. KOENIGSEGG hired them and their pit crews away from different NASCAR teams last year.”

“Wait! You mean to say that of the forty individual teams only eight have Stockcar trained crew chiefs for their pit crews.” I just nodded my head in answer to her unspoken question.

“That’s right Beth. The biggest reason we’ve won the last two races is because MRI has three main advantages. One is our drivers. All four of you have experience behind the wheel of a Stockcar. Two all of our crew chiefs have years of experience working on and with Stockcars. And three our biggest advantage. All, and I repeat all, of our cars are designed from the ground up with the driver in mind.” At the strange looks on mine and Beth’s faces dad sighed. “Listen up girls. The other drivers are all driving factory run offs redesigned for track racing. None of them are custom built for their individual drivers. Not like the way your cars have been built.”

“Okay hold on here dad. We both know that Stockcars really aren’t Stockcars.” I said then shock my head. “Wait that didn’t come out right.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart I know what you’re trying to say.” Dad chuckled. “There hasn’t been a dealer purchased car on a NASCAR track in more than thirty years. The same can’t be said for the ISA.”

“Wwwhhhaaa?” Beth and I said at the same time.

“Okay kids, news flash. The following teams have taken their cars straight off the assembly line. Reynolds Racing, King Night, Red Star, Horn Thomas, Bisbee Snider, Northern Alliance, and Les Ailes de Justice. Only us, Thunder Valley, and Prototype Outcasts actually costume build their cars.” Dad told us with a straight face. It let us know that he was being deadly serious. This was the engineer Robert McGuire talking not dad. “Because they have to modify the shit out of their cars to meet the ISA requirements. Instead of costume building their cars like we have the advantage is ours.”

Dad stretched his arms over his head before continuing. “Speaking of cars and advantages. It’s time you two got dressed out and ready for your practice runs.” Looking over at me snarling. “And Bobbie, you damned well better my instructions this time. I don’t care what you’re feeling out there. You hold back until those last ten laps.”

“Yes sir. Hold back until the last ten laps then turn it loose.” I told him in all honesty I didn’t want to try my luck out there on this track. I looked out at turns 3 and 4. “Though I doubt that will be a problem. I got a funny feeling that someone is going to need the wagon today.”

“Seeing the Bounty Hunter again, Speedy?” Mom asked as she climbed over the edge of the car hauler.

“More like feeling his hot breath on the back of my neck, mom.” I told her honestly. In the last two years I’ve become more open about these premonitions with my family. At first, they worried about me. Now they just give me a small smile and accept my feelings.

“What’re you thinking kiddo?” Mom asked.

“That’s just it mom. I can’t pin it down. I just know that something is way wrong.” I told her honestly. “Something with the track I think.”

“Keep your eyes open and trust your gut Bobbie. Beth when your sister is making her practice runs. I want you up here watching her as she covers every inch of the track.” Mom held up her hand to stop Beth from saying anything. “Yes, I know that is Kathy’s job, but I need a driver’s point of view.”

“Gotcha mom.” We answered together then turned to head down to our individual trailers. As we’re heading for our trailers, I hear the sounds of an engine firing over for the first time this morning. I can tell by the guttural rumble that is one of the Peugeot 508’s for Les Ailes de Justice. As I head inside my trail I stop and take one last look at the 508 as it rounds turn 2. I can tell by the way it’s fishtailing the car wasn’t expecting the steep banking of the turns. “Not good. I hope like hell he holds back for the straightaway. If he doesn’t, he’ll end up eating the wall in turn three.”

I don’t stick around to watch the rest of the man’s run. I got to my headspace right if I’m going to survive this track. After getting dressed in my NOMEX and leathers I set down with my music. I let my mind go for now and just drift as the opening notes for Fiddler on the Roof play. Ever sense Kelly and I got married she’s been playing around with iPod relaxation mix. I think she’s been loading the musicals and classical tunes to help me with letting the world fall away. Just so I can get my head in the game.

I know that I push things out on the track. But it’s the only way I know to drive. Out there on the ragged edge. Even back when I was racing illegally on the streets back home. I’ve always pushed my car and myself to the limits. I’ve always had to find the absolute edge. Once there I’ve danced to the tune of the piper. Loving every last minute of it. That is when I used to feel the most alive. Not anymore. Now I feel the most alive when I’m holding one of my kids. It doesn’t matter which, just holding them let’s me know that I’m alive. I may be a professional racecar driver, but that’s not all that I am any more. I’ve come to realize this over the last year.

“Shit where did the time go?” the knock on my trailer door had drawn my attention to the clock. Standing up I quickly stretch out smiling with grim determination. “Time to clock in and go to work.”

As I step outside Danny is waiting for me with my helmet, gloves, and a smile. “Ready to go to work boss?”

“Is she gassed up and ready to go, Danny boy?” I asked grinning.

“Punch the clock boss. We’re all waiting on you.” He said pointing to the busted clock hanging off the side of the hauler. “And you’re burning daylight. The rest of the crew is ready to rock.”

I just smiled and punched the clock. It had become a ritual for my team to bring us good luck. I wasn’t going to bitch or buck the tradition now. Not after two back to back wins. Danny gives me a hand climbing into the car once we get down to pit road. After I’ve strapped in and put in my earbuds he hands me my helmet and gloves. With these final pieces dawned I flip the switches for the batteries and hit the starter button as Danny does up the window safety netting. Key my mike for a radio check.

“Okay Kathy we ready to play?” I ask my spotter.

“All set here Bobbie. Christen Dior just completed her last practice lap and is coming in off turn four as we speak. You can go ahead and rollout.”

“Thanks Kathy. What can you tell me about the last four runs?” I ask her knowing full well that she has been watching the French drivers like a hungry hawk eyeing a field mouse.

“It’s a mixed bag, Bobbie. Of the four only Dior had a truly clean run. Her average speed was around one-ninety-five with a lap time of around a minute eighteen. The others put up some decent times but were all over the track. Especially that butthead Lilian Picard. He went sideways twice during his first five laps. Jules Grinda was the closest to Dior in both speed and time; but he had problems staying low in the three and four turns. It was like he couldn’t hold the line for those two turns. As for Léonard Carrell he may have been the slowest, but he had the best line of the four. Can’t tell you why. He just had the smoothest run and was able to stay down low on the inside. If you’re asking me where to run out there. Then you need to go high and stand on the throttle never letting up. It may be the long way around the track, but you’ll be able to carry more speed into the turns and then down the straightaways. That’s what it looks like from up here.”

I thought about what Kathy just told me. Over the last two years I’ve come to trust her with my life when out on the track. It doesn’t matter if I’m laying down test laps or driving for the win. Kathy has been able to read a track in a matter of microseconds from the first time that she ever acted as my spotter. I trust her judgement with my life.

“Okay Kathy. Drive it like I stole it.” I tell her as I pull out onto the track for the first time.

“I said stand on the throttle and stay on the outside. Not drive it like you stole it dumbass.” Kathy chuckled over the radio. “We need that car for the race tomorrow and next weekend.”

“HEY! I’m not that bad!” I bitched over the radio. Then chuckled as I entered turn 1 at just over 90mhp. “Okay Kathy here we go. I’m going to hold back for the first five laps. I’ve got a bad feeling about this track.”

“Don’t worry Bobbie. You’re the only one out there right now. Just feel out your own line for the first five.” Kathy told me as I rounded turn 2. On the exit to the back straightaway Kathy noticed something in the way I was driving. “Bobbie, listen up. You’re going to need to carry more speed through the turns. You stay below the one-fifty mark and you'll have trouble controlling the car in those high banking turns.”

“Copy that.” I told her as I stepped down a little harder on the throttle. As I enter turn 3 at just over 165mph I noticed that I had more control over the car. I thought about this fact for the next 4 laps. “Kathy tell me something. If I need to pull at least one-fifty to control this beast going around the track. What do you figure the pit road speed to be?”

“The way I figure it Bobbie. The slowest any car is going to be able to go out there is around sixty-five for yellow laps and a pit road speed of around forty to forty-five. But that is a best guess Bobbie. You’re right about this track though. There is something about it that is unsettling.”

I got to thinking about what she just said. I powered my way through turns 3 and 4 at just under 180mph. I noticed that the more speed I carried through the turns the tighter the car became and the more control I had over it. This feeling continued down the front straightaway into turn 1. I wanted to go faster but stuck with dad’s for this practice run. For the next 4 laps I hold my speed to right around 180mph. As I round turn 4 Kathy calls out.

“Bobbie, your dad wants you to bring it in on the next lap.”

“Understood, Kathy.” I didn’t know why dad wanted me to bring the car in but knew that he had his reasons. “Does he want me to head for the garage or just hit the pit box?”

“Hit the pit box. He said something about wanting to check the tire wear after five laps under speed.”

It hit me like a Mac truck with a full load doing 80 plus. Until now I dad had no way of knowing how the concrete of this track would wear the tires. Dad was using me as his test bed for the race. I kept my speed at around 180 for the rest of the lap until I hit turn 3. I started backing down hard so I could enter pit road without overshooting the entrance. I bleed off speed at a fantastic rate. Thanks in part to the heavy banking of the turns. Before I know it, I’m barely doing 45mph. Talk about breaking and downforce effecting a car in the turns. If I could use those qualities during the race, I could get a jump on the other drivers during green flag stops.

Hell, I could use it during yellow flag stops. The problem is going to be controlling the car at such slow speeds going around this track. I knew the banking was steep to begin with but now that I’ve got a few laps under my tires I realized something. I didn’t know jack shit about this track. Keying my radio as I pull into my pit box. “Give me two turns up on the sway bar. Three pounds more in the right-side tires.”

“Are you sure Bobbie?” Chief Hailee called back.

“Yeah. I’m sure. It should offset the right-side drag going into the turns.” I called back. I know that I’m right about the changes.

Only to have dad come up on the radio. “Negative Speedy. Hold those changes for now Chief. I need another set of tires with this setup. Bobbie when you get back out there forget what I said earlier. Go for broke.”

“Okay dad. If that’s what you want. That’s what you’ll get.” I chuckled.

“Thanks for understanding Speedy. I can already tell by this set that the track is going to raise hell with our tires management.” I was already down, gone, and pulling back out onto the track and building my speed by the time he finished his bitching. “Do you think those changes you suggested will make any deference during the race?”

“Don’t know dad. Let me run these next five laps flat out first. Have the next set of tires set up the way I suggested. After I make my next pit stop, we’ll have a solid baseline for tire wear. Then we can start playing around with the set up.” I radioed back. I knew that I was on to something. What that was I wasn’t sure. I just knew that I had 20 total laps to play around with out here today. I was going to use every last one to find the right balance for qualifying and the race on Sunday.

As I round turn 1 the 12% banking throws me sideways in my seat thanks to the g-forces. As I exit turn 2 covering 1320 feet in under 10 seconds, I realize that the new tires are giving me far more grip than the old set. Dropping down onto the back straightaway I feel the 5% inward slant for the first time as I rocket down the 5260 feet of concrete straightaway at over 195 mph. That 5% banking is pushing harder on the side of the car the faster I go. I don’t bother with letting up on the throttle though. Dad said he want a balls out run. He’ll get his balls out run. I push the throttle further down towards the floorboard. At the apex of turns 3 and 4 I’m forced to let up off the throttle. I felt the ass end start to drift out from under me even with the new tires.

Something is very, very wrong with this track. Something that I just found the hard way. I was right about this track being a monster in hiding. I quickly back off the throttle and key my radio. “DAD! I FOUND THE PROBLEM! THE EXITS ARE A BOOBIE TRAP!”

“What do you got Bobbie? Talk to me here kiddo!” Dad radioed back.

“It’s the sudden change in banking between the turns and the straightaways dad. We need a higher set sway bar load and at least two more degrees inward camber on the right-side tires.” I was doing my best to figure out how to get the most out of our cars as I powered down the front straightaway.

“Are you lose on exit because of the new tires?”

It took me a few seconds to realize what dad was asking. “I might be dad. Let you know on the exit of turn two.”

As I enter turn 1, I let up on the throttle and start braking for the higher banking of the turns. As I enter the middle of turn 1 and 2, I realize something nasty about this track. Nobody it going to be taking these turns at speed. The banking and track surface is going to prevent that. I also notice that without a drafting partner nobody is going to be breaking any speedway speed records during qualifying. During the race maybe. During qualifying the best anyone is going to reach is 195 mph. As I hit the exit of turn 2, I feel the ass end shimmy a little. I make up mind about the turns as I power down the back straightaway.

Keying my mike. “Dad the problem is the transition between the turn banking and the straightaways. Tire wear isn’t going to be that major of a factor for the first half of a run. The longer we go the more tire wear will become a factor for sure though. I really hate to say this, but we’ll be fighting for grip from the time the green flag drops all the way to the checkered.”

Dad radio’s back as I enter turn 3. “Damn. I was hoping that wasn’t the case. Are you sure?”

“AS sure as I can be. This track may have been shaped like Martinsville, but it is Dover on steroids. In more ways than one. How does that first set of tires look?” Asked as I powered down the front straightaway for turn 1.

“Let’s just say that I’m happier than a pig in slop that we DON’T have a limit on tires. I figure that every chance we get tomorrow. We’ll be giving you four new tires. Just to keep you kids safe out there.”

I didn’t like what dad was saying as I let off the throttle and hit the brakes entering turn 1 for my 8th practice lap. I hit the apex and start applying the throttle. As I power down through the exit of turn 2 I realize that the way to attack this track is going to be through throttle control. I knew that I could shift all the way into 4th gear and stay there for the race. The problem is going to be staying in 4th gear. As I exit turn 2 I key my radio. I know that dad is going to need this newest realization.

“Dad I got some more insight to the track. Let the others know that they’ll need to race the track not the pack for starters. Another thing is they’re going to have to keep their eyes on throttle. This is one track that is going to be all about braking and throttle control.” As I wait for his answer, I power down the back straightaway for all I’m worth. Just as I enter turn 3 and start braking dad gets back to me.

“I noticed that you’ve more control in the turns these two laps. What gave you the idea for throttle control?”

“Like I said earlier daddy. The transition in banking out here is nasty.” I told him snidely. “It maybe the Monster Mile’s bigger little brother. But there’re shades of the Lady in Black as well.”

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!” Beth asked coming up on the radio.

She was fallowed by Sam. “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”

“TELL ME YOU’RE PULLING OUR LEGS BOBBIE!” Jim snapped.

“Listen up people. Screw what we learned at Martinsville. Race the track the way we would race at Dover or Darlington. Bobbie has been giving us good feedback so far. Do as she tells you. Bobbie what can you tell us about the turns themselves?” Dad asked after chewing out Beth, Sam, and Jim.

“The entrances to turns one and three are smooth as a baby’s bottom. Hold the inside line as best as possible. Get out of the gas and hit the brakes the second you feel the banking. Let the car roll through the apex as much as you can before getting back into the gas. Don’t go for the firewall until you’re all the way down on the straightaway after the turn exit. To soon and you’re in the wall. Because your rear end will come around on you. It won’t matter how new or old your tires are, people. I doubt that even with a good buildup of rubber the traction will improve.” I kept up a running commentary as I enter turn 3 on my 10th lap. I start backing down the car so I can enter pit road. I really hope that Chief Hailee is ready for the adjustments I called for during my last pit stop. “Bringing her in Chief.”

“We’re all set to give you the changes you already asked for Bobbie. Do you think they’ll have any effect on the way the car is handling?” Chief Hailee asked as I entered pit road.

“I hope so Chief. Because if they don’t, then we’re royally screwed no matter what we do.” I told him bluntly.

“Damn.” I heard him say just before he dropped off the radio as I pulled to a stop in the it box. Danny, Cassy, Sherry, Will, Joseph, and Greg all over the wall and swarming my car like the will oiled team that they are. The second Danny had the left side off the ground Chief Hailee tosses him the wrench for the sway bar. He slams it in then it two full cranks raising the rear sway bar two full turns. He leaves in place as he drops the right-hand side of the car. As he pulls the jack around to the left-hand side of the car, he grabs the wrench. I can hear the steady screams of Cassy and Sherry’s air guns as they remove and then tighten the lug nuts for the tires. Greg has already dumped a full can of fuel into the tank. I’m surprised that Greg doesn’t try to stuff a second can of fuel into the tank.

“Chief Hailee what gives? Why only one can?” I radio in.

“Because your tank won’t hold any more. I hate to say this Bobbie, but you just didn’t burn off enough fuel to give us a good idea for the gas mileage game. Give me ten solid race trim laps if you can when you get back out there.” I can understand what Chief Hailee is getting at. I mean I’ve only put down 10 laps in total. Even then those laps weren’t under real race speeds. I didn’t really put in any effort at racing for half of them. He needed me to go out there and give him 10 full racing laps.

That is exactly what I did once I was down off the jack. For the next 10 laps I pushed my car as hard as I dared. I turned in faster and faster laps the more laps I turned. I also noticed that the lighter I got in the fuel tank the easier the car was to handle. It didn’t matter that my tires were steadily wearing down with each mile I put on them. Even with all the rubber that had built up from the other teams’ practices runs. The track surface was still slick as snot on a brass doorknob. For the first time in my life I was actually wondering if a good rainstorm would improve race conditions.

As I rounded turn 2 on my last lap, I spotted Jim rolling off pit road for the first of his practice laps. I could tell that he was following the same advice that dad had given me and Beth. As I pulled off the track onto pit road Jim blasted pasted me on the front straightaway. I could tell that he was doing exactly as dad had asked. As I neared the entrance for the garage area Chief Hailee signaled me to cut my engine. I didn’t know what was up but, did as my Crew Chief ordered and cut the engine. Then shifted into neutral as Danny, Greg, Will, and Joseph began pushing my car before it had a chance to come to a stop. As much as I wanted out of the seat, I knew that they needed me to steer the car.

Once back in the garage Chief Hailee was dropping the window safety net. “Nice run Bobbie. You gave us some great feedback. We’ve already made the same changes to the other team cars.”

“I hope that they’ll help Chief.” I said as he helped me out of the car. Once down on the ground I chuckled. “You know something Chief. There are times when I miss the open cockpits of Formula One.”

Chief Hailee just chuckled. “I can see that Bobbie. They do have their advantages, but out there going one-ninety-eight to two-ten in a thirty-five-hundred-pound car open cockpits are a death sentence.”

“True. I just hope like hell we don’t have to test the safety features this season. I really have no desire to cross the finish line upside down.” I chuckled at the very black humor of our talk.

“Bobbie you made a comment about having to treat this track like the Lady. How close is that assessment?” Chief Hailee asked me dryly.

“Chief all I can say is this. This track maybe shaped like the paperclip. It may feel like the Monster Mile.” I turned to look towards turn 4. “But this concrete bitch is the fucking long lost half-sister of the Lady in Black. That is the cold hard truth about this track, Chief.”

“Fuck me. The only thing this bitch is missing is Bristol’s nasty attitude.” Chief Hailee grunted then looked over at turn 4. “Though I have a nasty feeling that once we get under full race conditions that may well appear.”

I took a deep breath. “I hope not, Chief. Because if this becomes a Bristol stomp. No one will be safe out there.”

Chief Hailee got a thoughtful look on his face as Jim flew through turns 3 and 4. Jim was just inches off the outside retraining wall going balls out. He was taking the long away around the track were’s I had stayed down low on the inside line. “Bobbie, I got a question for you.”

“What do you want to know Chief?” I asked him.

“I know this is going to sound nuts, but do you think that you could use that outer wall as a rail?”

“You mean like the old timers did at Darlington when the outside wall was nothing more than a guard rail?” I asked in shock.

“Exactly. Can you do it? If you can what do you need done to the car to make it work?” Chief Hailee was already grinning. And I liked where his crazy idea was going. This was going to be one fun filled race.

-----tbc-----