Chase Wilkinson
Picture this: You are strapped and harnessed into a brand-new Hobby Stock Race Car, willing to go as fast as a car on the interstate, going about 80 miles per hour on straightaways and 65 miles per hour on corners. You are outside position on the first row, leading 18-20 other drivers around a three-eighth-mile track under the bright lights on a late Saturday summer night. The grandstand is packed full of fans on their feet screaming and waving at you and their favorite drivers. The flag man drops the green flag for a high-speed twenty-lap race. What could make this situation even more nerve-racking? You could be a scrawny, inexperienced fourteen-year-old kid who doesn’t even have his license to drive a car, let alone a racecar, driving against 20 grown men who are at least twice your age.
That was me in that situation, sick to my stomach, and on the verge of either peeing my pants or throwing up from the nervousness. Self-doubt was at its highest when it came to these races when I was fourteen, but the minute that green flag dropped, my instinct took over my brain and the rush of energy and adrenaline made me feel invincible.
Dirt track racing has been in my family for generations. I can trace it back to my great-grandfather racing at small tracks all around Nebraska in the 40s and 50s. Then it was my grandfather’s turn to drive, racing old models of Chevys and Fords. My grandfather racing every weekend in the summer made my dad fall in love with it as a boy, and he became fascinated by cars. When my father grew up, he started his mechanic shop and ran it all day and worked on his racecar in the same building every night.
My dad was a heck of a racecar driver, driving three different types of cars; Street Stock, Modified, and Late Model. My father began his racing career in 1997, and since then he has had six track championships, three in Street Stock, and three in Modified. He also was the leading points champion and bragging rights champion in 2010 for modified. My father and grandfather both had success on the track, then the next thing I knew, all eyes and spotlights were on me.
Interview With My Father
Me: What got you into dirt track racing as a kid?
Dad: Just going every weekend to the racetrack — that is what we got to look forward to. Back in the day as kids that was more entertaining than anything else. Knowing people on the racetrack and getting to watch them was the biggest thrill you could ask for.
Did you watch Grandpa’s race and was that the reason you went to the races?
Dad: Grandpa quit when I was born and started back up when I was thirteen, and that was when I got hooked. We always went in between times to watch Uncle Dean race.
How many classes of cars have you driven and which one was your favorite?
I think the only car I didn’t drive was Four-Cylinders. I drove Cruisers, Hobby Stock, Stock Car, Late Models, and A-Mod. I wanted to always drive a Sprint Car and that was my dream, but never got there. My favorite class was probably the Stock Car because I had the most success in it. I liked the A-Mod because before they went to the Crate motors, it was probably a driver’s class instead of money.
Four-Cylinder. Smallest cars at my dirt track, they feature regular tires that regular cars use and have a four-cylinder motor, hence the name. There's not a lot to these car other than smaller parts and people who just want to race, no matter the class.
When I started racing, you were my crew chief, right-hand man, and biggest helper in my racing. What expectations and goals did you have for me racing?
I just wanted you to get in as many laps and experience as you could. I didn’t have any goals, you exceeded most of them, and I wanted the car to run every lap and for you to finish every race you entered.
As we were preparing my racecar and getting it ready, I remember the night before my first race, I was crying because I was so scared and nervous, but you weren’t. How did you know that I could do it?
That’s a good question. Just because of the way you always attacked anything in life. You always attacked it with confidence. You always listened to me and you believed that you could do what I told you to do, and usually overcame. We never had expectations on you and you always exceeded them. I wasn’t worried and you always came to the racetrack and watched me race since you were old enough to get into the pits and you watched every lap and everything I have ever done. I just knew you had what it takes.
We can compare answers at the end, but in your opinion, what is the best part of racing?
It’s probably when I started it was more of “Did you bring a better car and drive better than everyone else?” It was more of a self-gratification, the trophies and fans were a bonus, but it was more of a “what have you done all week long that made you better than everyone else?” It’s kind of like every other sport, like what did you do all week long to make you better than the other person and their team?
My favorite part of racing was the pace lap [the lap before the race starts]. Going into turn three, I remember countless times of me shaking and being so nervous. That moment when everything is quiet, you only hear your thoughts and the car, and you forget everything. You are so filled with adrenaline, you are so focused, and the gratification of being done with the race and climbing out of the car.
I would agree with you there. It makes you think, “What can I do to not screw this up?” Especially if you are starting up front in the race. I started in the back of a lot of races, with national touring guys, and I had to think, “How do I beat these guys?” You were in the same boat, being so young. You had the same question of, “How do I not screw this up? I gotta do everything right.” That’s where the joy of when the crowd comes down to the pits makes it all worthwhile.
Is there anything else you would like to add?
The biggest thing that I would like to add is the amount of effort that goes into it off the track. How much preparation and support do you have to have? You have to have sponsors, obviously, to make it work. But the preparation between your team and your effort into the car always dictates how you are going to finish. You gotta have a lot of support from your family and you have to put your own time in. Sometimes you miss a lot of good things that you would like to be doing, or rather be doing and if you do those, it takes away from how you finish. You have to kind of put 100% into it, like any other sport. If you are dedicated to that sport, you are gonna get out what you put into it.
End of Interview
My father and I bought the chassis for my first car from one of his good friends, and we both went up to Iowa one weekend and worked tirelessly on my car to get it on the trailer. We had to make it roll, so we had to put on all the body and frames, front and back axles, electric work, tires, and more to load the car up. We then brought it back to our house where it took us about a month to get the car ready fully. That meant every night after school and practice, I would come home and work on the car with my dad for at least another two to three hours.
Because I was the youngest driver of the whole field, if not the whole track, the pressure and nerves were at the highest for me. Half the time showing up to the track, I would be so nervous that I wished the races had been rained out or canceled. At the same time, I knew my mother felt the same way.
Interview With My Mother
Me: As a mother and wife of a racer, in your opinion, what is the scariest thing or what makes you the most nervous at the races?
Mom: Seeing your husband or son in an accident.
What do you love and enjoy about going to all of the races?
I enjoyed the races when we were first together. Even before we were married, and right after we got married, the races were fun. That was what we did on the weekends. It was our night out, and it was fun to know someone who was racing. It was fun to bet on the cars with your families and friends. It was fun when people got riled up and got into fights. Even when the kids were little, it was a lot of work, but it was fun to show up. Everyone was always looking for my kids because you would carry your little bucket of cars and people would look for you to show up. It got harder when the kids got older, and the more expensive life got, and the more involved our kids were, because then I wasn’t always able to go.
Which is worse, having your husband race or your son race? Or both?
Your son. It’s just different because your dad had been racing for a while and got into some accidents, not serious accidents, but I looked at it like he was an adult and while it still made you scared and cry, it’s a whole different ballgame when it’s your kid driving. Moms just don’t see their kids old enough to be out there. Lord knows I didn’t. So, that was scary when you had your wreck.
Has going to the races given you years of stress? Has it taught you any life lessons?
Probably. I suppose it’s a way that I’ve had to let go of control because you can’t control what happens out there. I suppose it draws you closer to family and friends because both of those are important.
Knowing that I had a bad wreck in 2020, if I did get back in the racecar this summer, how would you feel and would I be kicked out of the house?
Well, it would terrify me, I’m not gonna lie. I wouldn’t kick you out of the house, but I would not be super happy about it. I would be pretty mad.
End of Interview
When I was a kid, going to the races and watching my dad drive was one of my favorite and most memorable times. I couldn’t wait to be in one of those cars and have the fans cheer and roar when I would win a race or get my name announced. I would sit in the stands and the drivers would make racing look so easy and smooth and I thought there was no way that it would be so difficult. Boy, was I wrong.
There is a lot of joy and excitement going to one of these events, but as a driver, in my personal opinion, it is all nerves and determination. Drivers are not there to have a decent heat race and finish in the top ten in the feature; that is just not their goal. Drivers are serious competitors and want to win in everything they do, especially races. There is a lot of pressure when it comes to getting in a racecar, getting in the staging area for your race, and seeing everyone with their serious faces and determination to be the first one to the checkered flag.
My first year of driving started out rocky. In my first race I got lapped but finished 14th out of 21 cars. The next two months consisted of me finishing usually in the 8th to 11th positions and an occasional break in the car or wreck that made me not finish, but heat races I was good at. The fewer cars in the heat race gave me an advantage because, in a heat race, there are usually about six to eight cars, way less than the 22 A features at the end of the night. Thriving in the heat races, I always managed to stay in the top three or four, giving me a great position for the A features.
Due to me being a rookie with fewer points, they would always put the guys with fewer points up front for the features, so the points leaders in the back would have to pass their way through the field. I would always start second (outside the first row) in the features and usually fall back to around tenth.
That would happen until Aug. 4, 2018, a day before my birthday. I was persistent and eager to get a top-five finish before the end of my rookie year. I did well in the heat, which gave me my usual spot, outside pole in the feature. The track was just right for me, tacky and hammered down, and more importantly fast. I felt the nerves rising fast around turn four before the green flag dropped, and I remember telling myself, “Just drive.” The moment that flag dropped, I forgot everything and took off, driving it hard into the first corner, barely lifting off the gas, and jumped out to a big lead. I was leading the race in the A feature, which was a big accomplishment in my first year, but I wanted more, I wanted to win the damn thing!
I kept going, not letting up or stopping for anything, trying to get that first-place finish and that trophy. I wanted it more than ever now. In the 20-lap feature, I led 17 of them, and then my worst nightmare happened: a caution. We had to do a restart, during which I got passed on by two track champions fighting for points. I didn’t care, I didn’t sit back and get mad about getting passed, I stayed right with those two, not giving a margin of error for the both of them. I held off the rest of the field and got third that night, and that was one of the happiest moments of my life. Not only did I have a good race and obtain a personal best, I gained a lot of respect from all the other drivers and proved that I belonged and could do it if I put my mind to it.
I then went on to get fifth in points my first year and got all-class rookie of the year, also getting a most improved driver. The following year I got fourth in points, and another most improved driver, looking forward to the next season.
Due to sports, I had to let go of racing for a while, just until I was done with high school, but I didn’t get that opportunity last year. Looking back, I realize that I had improved at such a rapid pace, I always wonder, still to this day, whether should I have stuck with it. Could I have won races and been in contention for a points championship? Will I ever get back into a racecar?
All I know is that if I do get the opportunity to put that race suit on, climb into that racecar, get strapped into the seat, and clip that steering wheel on, getting the rush of nerves and anxiety, I will make the most of it and never take it for granted ever again because you never know when that final time climbing out of that racecar or that last race will happen.
