As we pull into the racetrack I look around. There are a ton of trailers which means a ton of cars, which also means a ton of people. Aside from all the diversity we all love the same thing, racing. We all unite together, we are all there for the same reason and we all have the same goal. To win the Kyle Larson Outlaw Kart Showcase. One day, two Nascar drivers, three classes, over 225 cars. The biggest outlaw kart race in history to ever be held, and I’m apart of it. I can feel the tension of everyone around me, whispers of people talking about all their set-up ¨secrets¨
As I stare at my car, it glares back me. I put on my two-layer, heavy fire suit. Next I put on my elbow pad, arm restraints, put in my raciever, then my hans and helmet. My helmet presses against my ears with my earphones in and it feels like my ears are going to squish together and be ripped
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off and the same time. I get into my car, all my gear on. The sun beats down on me and I feel as if I can’t breath. So much is going on, too many things happening at once.
The heat, the stress, the nerves, the work, the pressure, the people, the cars. Too much, but when I get pushed off onto the track everything goes away. I don't feel the heat, no more stress, no more nerves, no more pressure just me and my car, focused on winning. I got a great start, I’m in the lead, in front of everyone, even the Nascar driver Kyle Larson. As the race goes on I get more and more impatient. I cannot make a mistake, I will regret it for the rest of my life. The ten laps of 10.9 seconds feel like eternity. I just want see the white flag. White flag. White flag. Where are you? Finally, there it is waving up in the flag stand, I feel as if all time stopped and I can see heaven. Only one more lap. I have to hit all my marks. Turn one and two goes perfect, just a little too high, turn three and four even better. I pass the finish line and the checkered flag is waving. I feel all the weight lifted off my shoulder and I cannot stop smiling. My cheeks are already squished inside my helmet and smiling makes it even worse. I just won my race in the first annual Kyle Larson Outlaw
Kart Showcase, and I beat Kyle Larson while doing it. When I pull of the track I feel famous, people staring at my car trying to figure out who I am, everyone else clapping. I pull into my pit a everyone I know comes up to me to congratulate me, the support is endless yet over-whelming. My dad. That's who I want see, but he isn't there right away. I wait for him and I finally see him, I run up to him and hug him so tight I never want to let go. I can just feel how proud he is of me, I know he’s proud of me and that’s my goal. To make him proud and I accomplished that. Finally.
The morning has came it’s race day your heart is pumping you are ready for the announcer to say 10 seconds!!!!!You are talking to your friends before the race and the
Four wheeling has been one of my family’s favorite activities for my whole life. Both of my parents even grew up riding. They kept the tradition of riding in our family by giving me my first four wheeler when I was five years old. I would take it on miniature trail rides until it eventually gave out and I had to hop on with my parents. We have continued that tradition by going on many four wheeling trips every summer.
I've been four wheeling since I was about three. Id say its pretty fun when you're not busy crashing. My favorite thing about four wheeling is having the wind blow in my face, it makes me feel free in a way. When i'm with my family four wheeling nothing can stop us so you better watch out. My best experience while riding a four wheeler was when I was about nine my grandpa and my four year old sister were together on one four wheeler and I was on my own we were riding down the road when my grandpa said “ Aryona do you want to go down there?” i was a little scared at first, but he told me it would be okay, so i said “yes.” Once we got down there I was happy I decided to go because It was awesome! One of my favorite things about
As a barrel racer, I have gone to a lot of shows and rodeos with my pony. My pony was diagnosed with moon blindness, caused from a bacteria called, leptospirosis, that got into his eyes. As he starts going blind he relies more on me, especially with barrel racing because he has to watch out for the barrels so he can turn tighter and not tip them over, but he can not do that because it is very hard for him to see.
Moreover, not only did I not comply with the speed limit, I did not obey my
My teammates were already waiting at the end of the drag strip. Unable to restart my car, we pushed it back to our pit area. My hopes were crushed. as I went over the fact that my day of racing was already over. & nbsp; Drag racing is a big part of my life. All of my spare time is spent working on my 1996 Honda Accord. With a big import drag racing. approaching quickly, I spent most of my waking hours for a week tuning my car. Sweat and hours of hard work finally prepared my car for racing. The interior was stripped down to the sheet metal and contained only the driver's seat to reduce weight. The whole exhaust system was removed to gain that little edge of power, which is essential for racing. My car was finally race ready, waiting to tear up the track. & nbsp; The following day, our race team met up at the track. In the pit area, we changed out our street tires for high performance drag slicks. After a few more last minute adjustments, I pulled into the staging lane.
On a trip to Colorado we stopped in Nebraska at Cody Go Karts. It was huge and looked like a giant, wooden, log fort. Outside of the fort like track you couldn’t hear a thing. Once you go inside it was a dome full of sound. You could hear Go Karts speeding around the turns. Some going really fast whipped around the sharp turns making you wonder if they were alright or if they had whiplash. It smelt like a jungle of excitement, fun, freedom, and burnt rubber. Once ready to start racing you could feel the adrenaline shoot through you at a 100 mph. Once you get on the track, don’t look back. The adrenaline was slowly draining, making it feel like you hadn’t slept for days. You could hear the screech of the engine getting tired of being run all
It’s race day and life in the pit crew is like being a goalie, 99% boredom and 1% panic, working 12 hours a day every day. When I arrived at LOWES motor speedway in North Carolina, everyone was in this 99% boredom phase, or their “down time”. It’s 7 a.m. and the cars of each team sit in the one story tin garage building with unfinished concrete floors looking almost like it was temporary, halfway equipped for the upcoming race and surrounded by their respective crewmembers. As I walk through the inside of this garage, big enough for twenty-five cars but filled with about fifty cars, the walking paths are carved through the clutter of race cars, roll-a-ways and loose parts. It is right to say that it is crowded. The U.S. Border Patrols pit crew had to prepare for any possible mishaps on the track. Working on and off throughout the day wanting the car to be as safe as possible but also try to exceed the natural laws of physics.
The moment of truth was upon me. The official times, this includes whom qualified for finals, for the 400m relay had been posted. My eyes scanned the page for the bold letters that spell ANDERSON. As I ran my finger across the page to where the times were posted, my ears began to shut out all outside noises, leaving me alone with the thump of my heart and the inhale and exhale of my lungs. Both began to increase in speed as my eyes narrowed in on the time.
A moment of silence as everyone wanted to watch the three fastest people on the track to race each other. “BANG” the starting pistol goes off and I can’t hear anything, I block out all noses and I just run. The two got the jump on me but I did not let this become a tragedy to me. I keep trying, giving my all into this race. I keep pushing my body to push myself to overcome this diversity. Everything I have gone though is being put together for this one race that will last just over 11 seconds. As I near the finish line, I gave it one last push, putting my chest out there’, hoping that everything I gave for the thing that I love will pay off. We all walk back to the finish line so we can get told out times. Heard the number one runner’s time in 11.58 seconds, Zak’s times in 11.42 seconds and the only though screaming in my mind was I did not ever come this. Then my track coach told me my time, I could not believe it, 11.39 seconds. I was standing there in thinking if he was joking to
Statement of the Problem: RC cars are usually hard to control if you are using one hand. This difficulty occurs because of its design and shape. I plan on making a hand glove that can control RC cars using just one hand with the movement of your fingers. Purpose of the Study Normal RC cars usually take two hands to navigate and drive the car using the remote. By developing this hand glove, the requirement for the control over the RC car would be reduced to just one hand rather than two.
The intricacies that are involved in turning a regular car into a “Street Racer” are many; and racers pour their souls into these magnificent machines. After seeing “the Fast and the Furious” many people have or wanted to become involved in street racing. They do not realize that this is a sport that takes knowledge, hard work, and nerve. Many of these racers have spent their lives under a car, learning the trade and improving upon it. As I have learned, this is not just a hobby; it is a way of life.
I dip my toes in—feels cold. My nerves rise up and spread like fire throughout my body while I watch—while I wait. Stomach hurts. All those butterflies clash and crowd. They come every time that I race—it never fails. There is so much noise—the splash of water, talking, yelling, whistling, cheering.
It was difficult to not focus on where she was on the course, and if I had caught up to her two minute lead. With this as my focus, I missed a turn, got off course and had to DNF. As I rolled into the finish line, my first thought was, "well this is the perfect end to a not so perfect season."
I lived with my father for my entire life, but due to his work I did not spend much time with him. My father worked at a different city; and thus he comes home only a few times a month. My father is a mechanic. He works at a company that is distant from our home. This was due to the company being the only one and the first where cars were being assembled in Ethiopia. Sometimes on the weekends I used to go to his work place. He would give me a trip of the place; the station was filled with vehicles, trucks, and motorcycles. It was separated by sections. In each section there were only one type of vehicle and the assembly process was shown step by step. From a fuse to large engine of the car, components were getting attached.