The invitation came last summer. Kleenex manufacturer Kimberly-Clark sponsors a car in the NASCAR races at the Milwaukee Mile and other tracks. And they were offering a ride in their No. 27 Ford Fusion to members of the media foolish enough to try.
No, I wouldn’t be behind the wheel. They weren’t interested in destroying their $125,000 machine, so team driver Brad Coleman would drive. I’d be next to him in a rigged-up passenger seat. So what could go wrong?
Heck, I’ve done lots of dangerous things. Flown in hot air balloons and stunt planes. Swam only five minutes after eating. Driven through downtown Detroit.
Of course, in a stunt plane, the sky is empty and the ground a distant memory. In a race car, you’re three feet from a hard concrete wall, which is very hard to forget. Block out the fear, I’m told, and it’s the most fun you’ll ever have going in circles.
Unlike going in circles with your worried wife. On the night before my racing debut, she gives me the third degree.
“Is he good?” she asks of my NASCAR driver. I note that he started racing when he was 12. “But is he good?” continues the inquisition. “If someone’s driving my husband at 100 miles an hour, he’d better be good.” I tell her they don’t trust a guy with a $100,000-plus car unless he’s very good. Which seems to reassure her. Until I make the mistake of showing her a photo of Coleman.
“My God! He’s a baby!”
Yes, barely-in-his-20s Brad looks more suited for High School Musicalthan high-speed driving. He’s a teen girl’s dream: clean-cut, speedway slick, toothy grin, dark hair and eyes, solid build. And, yes, baby-faced. So I don’t mention that he’s crashed in two of his last three races, but my wife’s way ahead of me. “Has he ever crashed his car?”
I try the casual approach. “All racers crash, dear,” I offer in my most off-handed tone, punctuated by a soothing smile.
She stares back. Absolutely unsmiling. “Wrong answer.”
Remarkably, she doesn’t hide my car keys in the morning. So I make the two-hour trek north to Wisconsin International Raceway in Kaukauna, where the Kimberly-Clark team is giving the rides. Nearing the track on a two-lane county road, I pass farms and a Harley bar called the Iron Buffalo Saloon. This is racing country.
When you’re about to ride shotgun atop some super-powered NASCAR wheels, you learn a few things. Like where the red strap is. Because if you crash, pulling that red strap is your salvation, freeing you from a spider web of harnesses. Otherwise, Houdini himself couldn’t escape.
You also learn what noise is. Real noise. A noise that’s not heard, but felt. When that $40,000 engine ignites, the rumble explodes through your chest, then searches for eardrums to shatter. So in a race, no one can hear you scream.
But the good news: You quickly learn why auto jocks get all the girls. It’s the racing suit. Trust me, these things work miracles of manliness. You can’t help but look good. They hide guts. They enhance muscles, or at least create illusory ones. They whisper danger in a woman’s ear, which is no small feat given the din of the engine.
My suit is a smooth blue and white design that’s puffy in just the right places. Apparently I’m borrowing it from John Young, the name embroidered on the suit. Checking a mirror, I almost swoon over myself.
But whew, it’s hot in those suckers. Put on a helmet and gloves, and you’re a baked potato.
The car is a sparkling blue with a yellow 27 sprawled across its roof. A red and white Scott Towels logo dominates the hood. Another large 27 graces the sides, as does the word Cottonelle, another Kimberly-Clark product. So yeah, I can’t resist wondering how often the car has, um… wiped out.
Inside and strapped down, I’m soon joined by Coleman. He does his final prep, then turns to me. “You ready?” No, I think, but I manage a cheery, “Yep, let’s do it.”
He flips the startup switch, and the engine goes kaboom. Everything in the car vibrates, especially my teeth, as we slowly pull away from the pit. Coleman does little swerves back and forth to test the handling, then revs up to speed. I think I’m smiling. Or is it a grimace?
The raceway is only a half-mile track, so its straightaways are shorter than what you see on TV. Still, I’m later told we top out around 110 mph. My eyes can’t focus on anything, because by the time I do, we’ve passed it. The images fly by like flip cards.
And because of the turns, it’s constant acceleration and deceleration. Hitting a banked turn, centrifugal force pins me against the side of the car. So when we exit a turn close to the wall, I get great views of the yawning concrete. Pure fright.
Adding a touch of terror: Burnt rubber constantly fills your nostrils. We skid into a couple turns, the rear tires sliding beneath us. “I tried to get the car loose for you,” Coleman says afterward. What a guy.
Near the end, I catch Coleman’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and he gives me a thumbs-up. I return the gesture quickly. Because his eyes should really be on the asphalt.
It’s five minutes of pure adrenaline. Finally, Coleman turns back onto pit row. We stop, and I pull the red strap with relief. I climb out, accepting congratulations from all, and head straight for the changing room.
Off comes John Young’s broiling racing suit. I feel a lot cooler, in more ways than one. And if John ever reads this, I’m sorry for leaving behind the sweat.
I promise, that’s all it is.
Who’s Got the Action?
We counted some 40 Wisconsin racetracks from Kenosha to Superior and all points in between. Here are some of the area’s top places for summer racing action:
Milwaukee Mile
The crown jewel of Wisconsin racing and the nation’s oldest continually operating motor speedway, running since 1903. Though financial troubles have clouded its future, the track has a full schedule for 2009. The IndyCar Series hits town May 29-31, then NASCAR takes over, with the Truck Series on June 19 and the Nationwide Series on June 20. 7722 W. Greenfield Ave., West Allis, 414-453-8277, milwaukeemile.com.
Madison International Speedway
It’s billed as Wisconsin’s fastest half-mile track. Reigning Daytona 500 champ Matt Kenseth cut his teeth here. Now his son Ross is a regular driver. The elder Kenseth races here again on June 30 in the Swiss Colony All-Star Challenge, an event that also features fellow NASCAR star Tony Stewart. 1122 Sunrise Rd., Oregon, 608-835-9700, madisoninternationalspeedway.com.
Slinger Super Speedwaay
The track’s high-banked turns let Slinger stake its claim as the world’s fastest quarter-mile oval. And for a smaller track, it attracts some big names. That includes NASCAR’S Kyle Busch and Matt Kenseth, who are slated for the Miller Lite Slinger Nationals on July 21. 280 Cedar Creek Rd., Slinger, 262-644-5921, slingersuperspeedway.com.
Road America
When you’re tired of watching cars turn left, it’s time to switch to road racing. Here, ovals give way to right turns, hairpin turns, everything but pirouettes. Check out the Kohler International Challenge, one of the largest gatherings of vintage sports cars in the nation, from July 16-19. N7390 Highway 67, Elkhart Lake, 800-365-7223, roadamerica.com.
Plymouth Dirt Track Racing
Many folks swear that dirt’s for racing and asphalt’s just for getting there. Watch some sprint car races at Plymouth, or at other dirt tracks in Beaver Dam or Wilmot, and you may agree. Here’s where you’ll see cars with those funny roof wings, an aerodynamic necessity that gets them through the turns. And fair warning: Try getting seats upwind of the oval, or you’ll be eating dust all night. 229 Fairview Dr., Plymouth, 920-893-5751, plymouthdtr.com.
