Laurels of Victory. (Glorius Basterds)

                                    Brent and Milly.

  Last night was the championship for the season. I am proud to announce a crushing victory for my team mate Billy Bell who took the season champion title, and well deserved it was. Four years in the making of a champ and the man has arrived. Well done Bill. Now that's said, I can vent. WELL, LOOK AT YOU, AIN'T YOU SOMETHIN'! I'm kidding, you know I am, it's just my way to try to bring a winner down a peg or two. It's a public service and someone has to since the racing fund can't keep buying you bigger and bigger helmets. (still kidding) Oh, I'm just basking in the warmth of the sun shining from your ass. Ok I'll stop now. I can't complain though, there was still some glory left for me and Wayne Goodwin, we both won a heat each and I took the B main despite early handling problems in the dash. There were two smokin' hot trophy girls last night, one on each side cozying up for the winners circle photo. I absolutely can't bitch one bit. The season ended with Mr. Goodwin in 6th, which is a staggering feat considering the box of crap he's driving. After a blown engine and a rollover I wound up in 13th spot (lucky for some). I never did break the 17 second barrier either, last night I pulled at least two 17.0 somethings. Bugger! I know that car will do it too.

  I'd like to take a moment to highlight Wayne as a person. Not in all my life have I met an individual so eager to make a positive difference in the world with his life and deeds. It just drives the man, he recently came back from Hawaii where he did a 100 mile bike ride for cancer research. Waynes knee blew up after the first 14 miles and he unclipped one foot from the pedal, and ran on one leg with a steady intake of gatorade and tylenol. He beat out thousands of people and came in third. Definitely badass!  "Yeah, that guy that just beat all you guys, he did it on one leg, how do you feel about that sir?" "I'm afraid we can't say that on the air sir." Well, he did tell me he got the leg going again eventually, hence the tylenols, but still...Anyway, Wayne goes up to bat without hesitation and let me just say this, from what I know of you, you're a better man than I am Wayne Goodwin. Honoured to be considered a friend.

  Ok, enough ass kissing. Not much more to tell, seasons over. I did have one nasty moment last night that's worth relating. During the dash race my car was a nightmare to handle. I was struggling to keep control when some contact with another struggling fool spun me 180 degrees and I found myself rolling at speed toward the inner wall going backwards. After my Captain-Destructo act last month I felt just sickened as I waited for the hit. Backwards too so I couldn't see it coming. I smashed in my rear driver side bumper and fender but was able to continue. After another spin barely a lap later I headed for the pits. Crew adjusted the outside rear wheel pressure by dropping 5 pounds and the rest is history. Bizarre how that little adjustment changes everything. From bowl of jello to tight racer in a squirt of air. As I headed out for the next race, not knowing how it was going to handle, my crew chief noticed I looked pissed. When I came back to the pits 2 race wins later with a trophy he quipped, " I like pissed, pissed is good!"

                                          The trophy girls' ride. (complete with mandatory fuzzy dice)

  I can't help myself on this last little poke at Bill. He was leading the A main for many laps and I was almost daring to think it was in the bag. Then a yellow caution flag and restart with only 8 laps to go. Somehow, the great one manages to get caught napping on the green flag and nemesis Jordon Schuss and 2008 champ Kris Mckenzie  mugged his ass in the worst possible way. (Schuss got the win too, owch.) Bill, I only mention it because I actually prefer things like this. If you had won that race, it would have meant you would have won the last four A main events over two racedays in a row and took the championship to boot. That is legendary stuff I know but I prefer that you're human like the rest of us. That would have been an embarrassment of riches and I'd hate it if I had been made to resent you for being so frikkin' great. Congratulations, Racemeister. 

                                  This is Bill in his rookie season with his first trophy of many more to come. 

  As a reminder that glory has its price, as I am all to well aware, local racer Travis Rutz who moved up to sprint cars nationwide was in a horrific crash which has left him in critical condition in a drug induced coma in Indiana. I don't know the guy but several of my racer colleagues do so our thoughts go out to him and his family.  

Sideliner

  Well I sat out a race and dropped two spots to 14th overall. No big deal. I realized that I had tweaked my shoulder doing the win the week before and it caused so much pain during the week I knew on raceday morning it wasn't going to happen. I went anyway in support of my teammates and besides, I wouldn't want to miss it. It feels wierd when everyones going out to the grid in their cars and you just sit there like a dog in the window. It was ok really because the time was spent in the company of the delightful Brittany and Alicia. It wasn't tough. No wonder my brother stays in the pits. I ripped this pic off of Brittanys' Facebook profile. Hey, you're in the public domain, and besides, the pic I took, you would have killed me for publishing. It was a 'wrong moment' shot, almost the same picture as this but both your facial expressions looked a wee bit straaaange.              

Well it was a good days racing, and its been a while since I've been able to be a spectator and watch all the events. Wins went to deserving friends, Randy Doerksen, Mike Webb, Rick Sellers, Peter Chick, and of course, BILLY BELL!!! yay! wooooo! lets hear it for BIIILLLLYYY BELLLLL! YEAH!, Billy Bell, Whodaman? whodaman? (Can you tell I'm being extremely sarcastic) Yes, like greased lightning, (emphasis on the grease) that teammate of mine took both the major Hornet events of the night, the A Dash and the A main. This puts Bill, and hence Fairway motors and Goodwin Racing in top spot by a commanding 60 point lead with one raceday to go. As a friend and team member I am both pleased and proud. The talk is now looking good for me in a prelude next season. That will mean Milly can be the spare. Bill says he still misses the civic, so this way I get a prelude and he gets to drive his old civic in the out of town races. Everyones happy.

  The other teammate Wayne Goodwin is in Hawaii on a 100km bike run for leukemia research. He's up for the whaddaguy award in my books. Oh, and Bill, I'm sorry about the 'grease' comment, it was a joke, I don't think you're greasy except maybe when you're wrenching and that's understandable. I still feel bad, like, maybe I went too far or something.  He'll probably be upset now. I just wish I could take it back somehow you know? Hey! I could just edit the post..... nah.

Heres a rockin' pic of Billy to make up for the abuse then.

Sometimes life is just FREAKIN' AWESOME!!!

  With a shattered hunk o'junk instead of a race car now, we had to drag out the bent and retired mess that was last years car. My poor girl "Milly" -so named because of her million kilometer life history before I creamed into the wall at the end of last season. It was 50/50 whether she could be made into a viable race machine again. With the outstanding talents of Mr. Larry McKenzie and his auto body shop, the old car got wrenched into something looking half-assed normal and that was as good as it was ever going to get. That was after 4 hours on the McMachinenthinger. Mr. Larry got a very nice bottle of wine, and it was still a crazy deal. Thank you very much Sir.

You will notice I don't have a slick 'tuner' engine with chromy bits and braided hoses. However, I have an engine that several quite excellent mechanics have lavished their skills and loving attention on so you can keep your badly modified hicupping crap, I've got the business. It isn't about the shine so much as the vroom mate.

After the stretching, it's back to Fairway Motors for final assembly and paint.

  Bill tried with the old battered wreck, he really did...

That's Billys Thunderbird he took to Hope BC for the demolition derby. His moustache is superglued on like a real man! I asked him how he did, "Great!" he said, "I was demolished!" I guess thats the whole point.

Hope is slim here however. Too bad, strip it and crush it then, sayonara little Honda, you won some in your time, and you saved my unworthy ass in the end, dislocated shoulders notwithstanding, it could have been much worse! 

  So, after a few late nights after work, I'm ready, Milly's ready. We ride!

                                                                                 That's Princess Sarah and me on race night.

  With the damage the frame took, things are still a tad off, I have cambered and castered wheels all over the place with nowhere to go for adjustment. The settings are set... askew I think is the right word. However, Tech gives me a thumbs up with a provisional hmmmm... at the track on raceday. More modifications needed but ok to run as is.

  Hotlaps: Complete disaster handling. Touch the steering wheel and she spins like a top. Jerks my bad shoulder in some mad hand over hand action on the wheel and back to the pits. Frantic crew makes some adjustments. Handling now better but trick. Its tight but snaky. The back end comes out in a drift but that in turn winds your front end into the corner, but only if the drift is consistent and it hangs on to the edge of the envelope, which it does! Back off on the gas and you're lost, but it's do-able. Actually a lot of fun. Here we go.

Time Trial: 17.6 and all things considered, I'd hoped for better but I'll take it. No choice anyway, the only option is leave it. Still getting used to the new handling anyway. In the races I wound up posting 17.2s which was much better but still only average.

  I qualified for the 'B' class races, heat and main. 'A' class these days is hard to qualify for. A year ago, I made it into all the 'A's, this year, the top ten guys are all posting 16 point something, it's sick. There are some fearsome machines out there these days and more of them. I think after this season I'm going to push for an upgrade. (dearsanta,I'dlikeapreludeplease)

  Heat: The lineup had me racing side by side with Keray McKewans prelude #90 from last races wreck-a-thon. We behaved ourselves like good little racecar drivers and eventually he snagged my lead and I settled for second.

  Main: I have this vid on you tube from a race I won last year (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eIKElSFmxF0nd) I used an AC/DC tune, 'it's a long way to the top' in it. They were playing that tune on the loudspeaker when I climbed into the car to go out to the grid. "Gosh" I thought, "thats what they call an omen". My brother looked at me and we both agreed that I wasn't going to push it. I was still recovering from my injury and the car was handling questionably. I was starting near the back so I would just take it easy and try to place decent. Well, deak deak deak and I'm through to the front of the pack in no time, then I develop an eight second lead and take the win. I am most pleased. Egosville daddio. This kind of comeback-from-a-wreck-and-win thing I had not dared to hope for as it belongs in movie scripts and not in real-life, particularly mine. I guess I'd built up a karmic (carmic?) reserve and cashed it in all at once. I suppose that means there's nothing left for the lottery now. I don't mind though, you can be as rich as you can be but you still can't buy what I had just experienced and thats all I got to say about that.

  After watching the brutality in the 'A' main, I'm kind of glad I wasn't in it. I got through the day without so much as a scuff, except for the one from the pit-bosses boot on my yellow bumper before I went out. He said it was just too shiny. I consider things like that good for luck so I don't mind at all. The mayhem started in ironic style with last years champ Kris McKenzie and the previous years champ Curtis Williams ending up wrecked together on the wall in turn 2. Kris was driving the car that had made them both champions and now the luck was running backwards down the other trouser-leg. Dearie-me. Next to go was #17 who got spun in during an attempted pass by another driver, (no names mentioned here) and then T-boned by #11. The 'other' driver got himself black-flagged and DQ'ed. He was not a happy camper and I refuse to go into who was at fault because that isn't what my blog is about. My blog is about ME, and I don't care whose fault it was. I wasn't upside down looking at the asphalt going by above my head through shattered glass and that's good enough for me son. Billy fought like a devil but expecting Garry Radford to make a mistake, well, you could wait years. He got a close second and is now top of the standings in points. Way to go bro. 2 racedays to go. Team mate Wayne Goodwin did a gig as driver for a ride-along guy in the two seater club car while a guy who won Waynes cancer-research raffle got to do the race thing for the first time in Waynes #94 car. He did good too. Young Ashley, Waynes daughter is steadily improving in her pretty #95 car "lightning McQueen" and staying off the wall which is the important thing.

 In fact, the only crappy thing about the weekend was the tragic and profoundly sad accident which took the life of Waynes beloved pet dog Bailey. Wayne was driving. He's pretty busted up about it so everyone give a moments thought for my buddy Wayne Goodwin. I'm ending on kind of a sad note here but it isn't all fun and games in this big badass world and ain't that the truth. Raceday Saturday 7:00pm. Stay posted racefans. 

Don't try this at home folks...

  I didn't blog the last race because there was basically nothing to blog home about but Saturday night was EPIC and made up for all. Firstly, it was a memorial night for a fellow racer, Brad Adams who unexpectedly passed away at age 37. Brad was in the process of building a race car for his eldest son Tyler and several stout lads stepped up to finish the car in 4 days flat. (see Facebook: Goodwin Racing) On Saturday night the tribute run involved more than 30 Hornet class cars in two columns driving in formation. We peeled away wide to make way for Tyler who ran up the center flying the chequered flag then we all fell in behind him to do a slow-march victory lap. I was very moved and I'm still getting goosebumps while writing this.

The drivers all signed #21's memorial hood.

  After nefarious and persistent technical problems, both me and Billy had to go into the hornet special 100 lap enduro in untested equipment. Thanks to Bill putting in a new transmission the night before, I timed in a personal record of 17.007 seconds. 7,000 of a second from the sacred 16.999! Damn! Well, I'll take it, no complaint because for me thats smokingly fast. I know guys that'd puke if they even got a 17 point anything, but I'm outgunned there and thats all there is to it. Bills car was still twitchy and he was getting used to its new 'handling characteristics'. Teammate Wayne Goodwin was in the same type of car as me, a '91 civic si and got a 16.9 just to piss me off.

                    Jerk.                                                      Waynes daughter Ashley who is coming of age, did her debut as a driver in a civic done up like Lightning McQueen. It's #95 to Waynes #94. Ashley always comes to my car as we line up to go out and wishes me luck. I do appreciate things like that. It's nice. My brother just thwacks me in the head for luck. I try to get my helmet on before he does it.

Billys' lovely girlfriend Brittany was trophy girl and rode in a huge white 1968 Caddy convertible to the winners circle. I bet she'd like to do that again and I'm sure she will. Kris McKenzie was doing double duty as a Hornet and a midget sprint, and Keith Tourand was doing the same in Hornet and Street stock. Busy chaps. A typical night at the races, UNTIL!!!! The A Main. -Special; 100 laps, cut to 53 because of all the cautions. Everyone went maniac for some reason and it escalated into something resembling a demolition derby, which is exactly what it became for me personally. Here is everything going as planned.

 Shortly thereafter going in to turn 1, I had just made way for Billy in the Fairway motors express when it was slamtime as everyone in front of me jammed on the brakes. I stuffed Billy pretty bad and his muffler was hanging off, being dragged around like a sparking dingleberry. My steering rack was now busted altogether and it was still early in the race. Proceed. After about 40 laps there had been numerous wipeouts, I'd bet that it was 9 cars out of 25 gone. The worst was yet to come. I was battling Keray McKewan in his #90 prelude, (seen above) and we were coming out of turn 4 onto the front stretch in front of the stands. I don't know what happened yet so I don't know if he got hit first or what but I got smoked hard on the drivers side and in a microsecond my front right corner impacted the wall with an absolutely stunning force. It was shit-shattering hammer-blow hard and it rung my bell. More shocking, it dislocated my left shoulder as the steering wheel jerked violently. A good death grip'll do that to you. Shock smash arm rip and then I'm upside down sliding down the track, oh no! Actually I didn't think "oh no" at the time as my brain was going through a total reboot, I was just buzzing. All I could do was watch. I shunted #90 as he slid sideways for probably about 100 feet. See.

We're still moving in this shot, those are sparks coming off my hood and he's being shovelled off the ground at his back corner. He slid off somewhere after that and I was the wrong way up deciding what to do next. I had already gone over a similar scenario in my head many times so I could do it automatically if I ever had to. Now, according to track protocol, please remain in the harness and wait for help. I saw what I thought was fuel leaking in a stream and decided, "bugger that!" Having rolled a vehicle before, I knew that this time I should put a hand on the roof to stop me from braining myself when I released the harness so I had to pop the release buckle with my dislocated arm, aaarrrgh. The intention was to get away like a rat out of a drainpipe and jog off to trackside. Reality was more like crawling from the wreckage and rolling onto my back a couple of feet from the car. I waited until the last car had gone by though so I reckon it must have taken about 20 seconds to get out. Well, now the aftermath to deal with. Three awesome paramedics were all over me and right away I felt better about the situation. I thought the shoulder might be broken and my hand was going cold. They eased off the helmet and neckbrace and those bits all checked out. Then, when trying to get my coveralls clear of that arm it suddenly went KLUNK! and everbody standing around heard it. That was it popping back in. Undislocation. Now things are positively peachy by comparison and the paras helped me to my feet. As my head popped up from behind the car and I waved to the crowd to let them know I was ok, they really gave it up for me and I have to say that it will forever be a highlight in my life. They cheer for you when you win, sure, but this time I felt them. It was profound at the time. Finally trackside, Al Hilton, the track Hornet official brought me over a Dale Earnhart Jr 1/18th scale collectors edition Monte Carlo which was nice and hinted that theres a trophy in it for me at seasons end. 'The Rollover Trophy' Gods! I'll put it with last years hard luck award! I sat on the wall and was treated to a nice neck massage from Trophy girl Brittany so it wasn't all bad. When the fans came down at the end of the night, my little friend and fan, Sarah came with her parents and they told me she had been bawling and had to hug me, twice. Aww. That was really sweet. The other drivers were coming over to check on me and offer a few words and handshakes. The general mood was that some of them were actually jealous. The rollover crash is something of a feather in your cap amongst the racing community. It's like you've seen the elephant. In the upsidedown club so to speak. The driver of #90, Keray came by and felt pretty awful about the whole thing but I'm not holding any grudge or blaming anyone. I hurt all over by the way, even days later, I have bruises from my harness and from flailing about. As my good friend Mike said, "shiny side up, dude".

  Brittany and Sarah with Mark the flagman who was doing his job on the wall close to where I hit.

Terri Temperton: Photo

Before and after.

She's bent out of all possibility of racing again although there is a faint hope that as Billy says, tree avec large chain, and well aimed sledgehammers might make it still viable as a figure 8 car. I don't know. On a final note, Kind Mr. McKenzie offered to use his autobody shop equipment to staighten out last years not-quite-as-bent car and that may happen this weekend in which case in two weeks Brent rides again! If it doesn't work out, season's over. Oh well, I'm safe and sound and that really is ALL that matters. I found out today that Larry Mckenzies beloved Mother has passed away. My thoughts go out to you and Kris and the rest of your family and to the grieving Adams family too.

 I lost a very dear friend recently. My 15 year old cat Charlie had to be put to sleep two weeks ago and so here is a picture of him in better and happier times.

Payback's a bitch.

    Last night I won no races, brought home no hardware. I got something better. The awesome memory of smoking an opponent who had it coming. I started the day timing in with a mediocre 17.4 sec lap. Got third in the heat and got a decent grid spot for the A main. Billy was having problems juggling tires around to try and dial in his handling. Tires make huge differences to how the car responds to the track, it's a real hit and miss affair. Here, fine baritone Billy Bell practices his role in the upcoming production of "Phantom of the Opera" while Mike Webb looks admiringly on. I know it doesn't look like that but that's just because it's complete bullshit. Note what Bill's wearing for sunglasses, can you read the logo? 'playmate' Very sexy Bill, even I found myself curiously aroused. You can kind of tell Mike thinks so too.

Garry Radford blew a blood vessel in his head from too much head in too little helmet apparently and is seen here concealing the freaky resultant eyeball.

 Curtis Williams being way cool gives us the thumbs up. Unless thats his middle finger, I can't tell. No... it's definitely a thumb.

There were Midgets and Dwarfs racing. To avert any possible confusion, this is a Dwarf.

The driver is not.

Chris McKenzie pulled double duty as a Midget driver and a Hornet.

Here are some more tasty pics.

   So, in the A main, which was 50 laps, I sense my engine isn't happy at all and read off the guages that my temp is maxed. Oh-oh. I remembered Curtis talking about running in third gear to cool down an overheating engine, (normally we run in second gear at high RPM's, hence the temperature issue is fast becoming critical) so now every ten laps I'm running about the next half dozen in the taller gear. Not as competetive but holding on to my spot. I want to finish this race (the points, the points!) but on the other hand I obviously don't want to blow my engine. (the cost, the cost!) I was in sixth but Gazzer in his integra mugged me on the last restart near the end and I settled on a respectable 7th. The issue turned out to be jiggly wiry bits. Stupid little mickey mouse jiggly wiry bits that almost cost me another engine. Something will be done about that, enough said. Billy placed third and #21 Schuss the younger took the win. The highlight of the whole night for me was a little mano a mano business. Turn two, a car who's number I won't mention bashed me about gratuitously when he overtook while I was trying to cool down the engine. "Oh, yeah" I thought, "if I get a chance to even the score, I'll give you a poke, pal". I was always about fifty feet from his stern and with my temperature issue and the engine warning light coming on I couldn't quite catch the bugger. Then, right near the end, there's trouble up ahead and he spikes his brakes. I'm there, smoke into him on his rear left corner drifting him a little, then groinch down the inside doing cosmetic damage to both cars and the last I see he's dropping back into the gloom on an unpleasant angle. Yes. Do you know just how good it feels to do that? It is actually more rewarding than winning a trophy. Do you think I'm sick? I risked a black flag because technically it's a no-no, but the fans are a bloodthirsty lot and they love stuff like that, who wouldn't? Anyhow, the flag man either didn't see it or knew it was payback and let it go, I don't know. Not that the flagman would ever turn a blind eye to such an obvious indescretion, certainly not. I finished ahead of his ass anyhow. Well, trashtalkin' aside, I was amazed to find out this morning that I had registered a 17.099 on my 40th lap when I checked the mylaps website which uploads all our transponder data. That's a personal record for me. This when I was taking it easy on the motor. Was it when I was in third? Hard to believe that. Smoother approach because of less speed into the corners? More research is required. Right now I just want to make sure my engines' ok.

  The last two trips to the winners circle this year.

Winners circle pics by Teri Temperton, Finishline photos. Thanks Terri.

  On a final note, the senior McKenzie was upset that I didn't sing praises of his exploits as a driver in the last blog. It was an unforgiveable oversight Larry, and that must be why you dumped that bottle of water on my head when I said hi in the pits. It was very hot on saturday, it was actually kind of nice getting wet. So to rectify my unconscionable error, here it is, albeit belated. Larry McKenzie, veteran racer, took a trip out in Curtis Williams del sol #41 while he was away. Larry did ok for an old goat past his prime, and despite a few trips into the dirt on turns 1 and 2, he managed somehow to not total Curtis's car. Lord knows how. Hope you're happy Larry, you should know better than to ask me to write something about you whilst dumping your beverage on my noggin!