April already? Didn’t the season just start last week? Is time really accelerating? Aren’t I still 26 years old? In order: yes, no, perhaps, and I wish.

It’s Monday, I’m back from Houston, and we leave tomorrow for Vegas in the motorhome. We just finished dinner, and Jenna and I did our usual “tag team” clean up of Jason. Just when we think he’s really getting the hang of feeding himself, we discover more food on his bib and chair than went into his mouth. I may patent that idea for a new diet: “eat some, drop some, and slim down.”

We were counting on leaving tonight for Vegas, and I thought tomorrow would be one of those “dream days” in my life. For the better part of 18 months, my friend and Air Force liaison when I visit Nellis AFB and the military hospital, Pam Robinson, has been working on putting me up in a jet fighter. The Thunderbirds had given me a “90 percent confirmation” to go up tomorrow, but that didn’t happen… yet. Seems the paperwork still hasn’t been on the complete extensive tour and the necessary signatures haven’t all been collected, so I’m currently on hold. The frustration has been the amount of planning and time spent to make this happen for tomorrow. Judy Stropus, our PR expert, has spent hours coordinating local media, ESPN, and multiple other media outlets. Rodger and Karen Comstock sent the MTS show car, with driver, in from out of state to be a part of this, and Pam and I have traded more e-mails than I can count. What is it that they say about “the best laid plans of mice and men?” (“often go awry”). That’s from the poem by Robert Burns, which also inspired the title of Steinbeck’s famous, though controversial 1937 novel. (Crazy how smart a simple Google search can make you seem!)

I think that the F-16 ride should happen sometime in the next few months, but the upside is that we actually can spend a day at home before heading to the next race. And believe me, I cannot wait to get back into that car!

If you didn’t get to see the Houston race, it ended up being a very eventful weekend, from Schumacher’s return to the winner’s circle, to Ron Krisher getting back into championship contention, to Craig Treble showing how an independent can still shake up the troops, to Ashley Force whipping up on some youthful-looking, charming, modest chap in the Funny Car final.

My weekend started with another participation in the Army YES program on Friday morning. What I enjoyed most about it was finally getting to meet Reggie Showers, who, along with Steve Johnson, were speaking in the tent adjacent to the one where Tony Schumacher and I were. For those who don’t know, Reggie raced Pro Stock Motorcycles for several years. He also is an incredible public speaker, with a motivational story like no other and a delivery quality as good as any I have ever heard. Reggie lost both his legs when he was 14 due to an electrocution accident and has never let that hold him back from his dreams. Just getting the pleasure of meeting him (we did hug, so now I’ve got him on the list with Force and Garlits) made my entire weekend.

My father and Teri were out for all three days of the race, and I got to spend lots of time with them each evening. My dad had a pretty nasty street bike accident last year, and his recovery was much slower than he let us all believe. It’s nice to see him moving around like normal again, though I doubt he’ll be enrolling in any Pilates classes in the near future. By the way, what the hell is “Pilates?” (Hey, one quick click on Wikipedia informs me that it is a combination of aerobics and yoga postures invented in the early 1900s by Joseph Pilates. This computer deal is making a genius out of me).

Qualifying was limited to three sessions due to rain late Friday, and the weather changes throughout the weekend made it very difficult for the crew chiefs. Add to that the recent surface grinding done, which resulted in a very course surface (which, combined with the recent heavy rains in the area made for a lack of uniformity in the rubber on the track), and things got interesting. The final qualifying session in Funny Car was exactly the way things should be: exciting, lots of shuffling and bumping, and nail-biting for the teams. Though only 17 cars showed, I think we put on a great show for the fans.

Run one we smoked, I pedaled, and then quit (you DO NOT want to hurt the car on the first run), netting a 5.55. Still, that placed us eighth… a very tricky track. Run number two, on Saturday, gave us a decent 4.18, and we again were a top-half car. By the time that we pulled up for our last run, the No. 12 car had been bumped out of the show, and we were down in the bottom half. A nice 4.108 put us fifth, our highest qualifying position of the year. Normally that’s a great place to be, but our reward was getting to face Robert Hight in the first round, a fate most don’t want.

Saturday also happened to be Big Jim Dunn’s birthday, number 75 to be exact. Jim has driven fuel altereds, front engine Top Fuelers, front AND REAR engine Funny Cars, and has been a star owner and wrench for years. He is just fantastic to talk to, and I’d love to spend about a month interviewing him on what he has seen and done in this sport. Little known fact: I actually interviewed to drive for Jim several years ago, which was totally cool. Many of us put birthday stickers on our cars in honor of Jim, and his son Jon took this photo of us in the staging lanes. Had Jon been as good a photographer as he is a mechanic, you’d be able to see the sticker. Nice going, Jon!

Most of the Pro drivers hit the road after qualifying ends on Saturday, as Sunday is an early day for most of us. I, however, can’t get my fix of racing. I hung out near the starting line with one of my longtime racing buds, Greg Boutte (who now works for K&N), and watched the Super Comp first round. I had several friends in competition, but I really just hung out and enjoyed the ambiance and horsepower. Sportsman racing is just so different from the Pro side of things, and I don’t mean any disrespect at all. These men and women typically work 50 hours a week, take no vacation at all so they can use the time to go racing, and often race in front of empty grandstands just for the thrill of racing a national event. Stick around in the stands next time you’re at a race and enjoy the nuances of the various classes… I bet you’ll find you really get into certain ones. Check out the lack of audience in this photo that I took from behind the starting line. Another interesting tidbit is about the track workers. Keep in mind that these men and women show up EARLY in the morning, each day of the event (and most of them are there days in advance to help with track prep, registration, tech, and other necessary jobs), and work late into the evening until all cars have run and all work is complete. So, here’s to all of you for keeping racing alive and well!

A typical Sunday for me involves showing up at the track somewhere between 8:30 and 9 a.m. By then the crew has set up everything and is hard at work on the car. We warm up about 9:30, and then I head over to the DSR hospitality area for the driver’s intros. The unique thing about driving for DSR is the access that people can gain by purchasing hospitality tickets. Each of the drivers is introduced and gets a chance to address the audience and speak for a couple of minutes. Once done with the greetings, if I haven’t already got all of my safety equipment ready, I will go do it. Now I think I know how the gals feel, as I have so much crap in my ensemble that I almost need a checklist to keep from forgetting anything. Before and after these scheduled activities I also spend time at the ropes talking to the fans and signing stuff. Around 10:15 I head up to the starting line for the NHRA driver intros. Nearly all races feature them, and I like the idea. All of the Pro qualifiers are introduced and get to go out on stage and wave to the fans who have arrived early enough to partake. This time I decided to turn the tables and take a picture of the fans, so now you can see what it looks like from the driver’s side.

After driver intros, I’ll go out and look at both lanes, especially at the Tree and the angle that the sun is shining on it. After that, I’ll head back to the trailer, suit up, and go back to the staging lanes by the car. After the National Anthem, I’ll watch a couple of pair of dragsters run before returning to the car. Typically I suit up and get strapped in when we are five pairs from running.

Update: I just gave little man his nightly bath and read him his bedtime book. After that I watched the ESPN coverage of the race. The qualifying show was a bit of a bust, as we AGAIN were pre-empted (though I understand they did replay the entire show the following day… useless if you’ve already programmed your recorder and aren’t at home), this time by women’s beer-chugging, or was it a live frog-jumping competition this time? The race day show was pretty good, though scarce in driver interviews. What was exciting was the dual tire-smoking races, and it was even better in person (and, it was even better when strapped in the car!). The coverage didn’t capture some of the detail, like how badly we blew up our engine in the first round pedaling contest against Hight. It was smoking, popping, sizzling, and stinking by the time I got it stopped and got out. My boots were soaked from the fire bottles, but we did get the win light. Don told me he’d send an invoice for the damages, so I’m changing my address. Hell, maybe that imposter from the last blog can pick up the tab!

Our day didn’t get any easier after round one. Tim Wilkerson (who was 2-0 against us this year) was our second-round race, and it was a real squeaker. This time we got there first, but just by .005. Semi’s, and Tony Pedregon was driving away from me until he slowly faded back, and we’re back in the final for the first time since Richmond last year. We had lane choice against Ashley, and we felt very good about our chances … Until after backing up from the burnout.

After the body was lifted, it was obvious something was wrong. Raw fuel was spewing out of the #6 cylinder, and leaning the fuel pumps didn’t help. When I watched the look of disgust on Johnny’s face I knew we needed a small miracle. My only hope was to turn off the top bulb (deep stage), and hope that Ashley would red-light. I fully expected there to be fuel dripping in front of the right slick, and I just knew the car was going to spin 10 feet into the run. I went in deep, made sure I was green (there wasn’t any point in trying to hammer the Tree and throwing it away on a red-light), and nailed it, fully prepared to lift immediately to keep from throwing the rods out and lifting the blower (I don’t need two invoices from Don). I was amazed that the car actually hooked (we later traced the problem to one of the spark plugs in #6, which had broken the porcelain. Surprisingly, though it failed to help ignite the fuel at idle, it actually fired throughout the majority of the run) and made it down the track, but I felt pretty helpless watching Ashley drive away from me. I have to give her and their team much credit for making an outstanding run and keeping their cool in the less desired lane.

So there it is. I can’t wait to get to Vegas, hop back into that Valvoline/Mail Terminal Services Charger, and go make eight solid laps and collect our trophy. Then I’m going to send Don an invoice and flowers. Drop me a line if you know his favorite type. On second thought, that’s just plain scary.

Stay tuned.