Everything was hot at Beech Bend Raceway for Street Car Takeover: Bowling Green…everything. The racing was moving right along, the cars were putting up good numbers (even with the 106 degree heat index), and yours truly was sweating like I’ve never sweated before. It didn’t matter how much watermelon I ate (hint: a lot) or how much water and Gatorade I drank, I could only run outside for about a half hour before I would need to cool down. With that being said, kudos to everyone who stayed suited up in their gear, waiting in the staging lanes to take a shot down the track…y’all are freaking troopers.
Just after four in the afternoon, racing took a pause as the burnout contest got started. After calling the contestants out, we were a little disappointed to only see two pickup trucks sitting in the staging lane, waiting to go burn the hides off. There was money on the line, surely there had to be more competitors? (Yes, Angry Grandpa was at the track, and no, the money wasn’t enough to roast the tires off. Maybe next time, guys.) Cleetus started to stir up the crowds that were hanging nearby. One guy, shirtless and burnt, pleaded for a few minutes so he could go get his car running. As he ran off to fire his beast up, the competition got down to it:
After the $100 was handed over to the winner, racing picked back up and ran well into the night…and I suspect even later than after Beech Bend shut down for the night. From the 8-second stick-shift Camaro that was hooking and booking like nothing was wrong to the psychotic Neon SRT-4 that was scratching for traction in 3rd gear, the cars were lapping the strip long after the sun set and I reached exhaustion. If you get the chance to check out a Street Car Takeover event, go. There’s jokes and good times, but there are some badass cars that roll in, plenty of which are fast enough to keep your interest, and if you listen closely in the pits, you’ll hear the competition coming out of these guys. The nitrous flowed freely, boost was plentiful, and the smell of race fuel and fried tires hung in the air like an automotive barbecue.