It turns out that Honda Civics skip like small stones when driven into a sand trap at their terminal velocity. This little tidbit was discovered on a Wednesday “street night” at New England Dragway shortly after I started working there in the late 1990s.
Street night is an interesting thing to behold as it brings out both the newest of newbies and the oldest, crustiest guys that have been drag racing for decades. There are plenty of kids staging with the rear tires, driving their street-tire-equipped rigs through the water box, tracking water to the starting line and smoking their tires for 300 feet, and girls dressed in skimpy clothing. I like the last part the best.
Working at the track it was easy to spot the kids who were totally clueless and had never been to the strip before. Lots of those guys would ask good questions and take the time to watch a little before actually driving up onto the track to make a run. We liked those people and did lots to help them and make them comfortable.
Then there were the other guys who had never been to a drag strip but acted like they were Warren Johnson. We didn’t like those guys and kind of reveled in their failure. As an announcer it was always good to get the entire crowd to start screaming at a guy who pulled up right next to the tree to stage or to let the crowd know a guy had left his car in reverse and he was about to look real dumb in a second.
One of the common questions we got from new racers was, “When do I stop?” Seems funny, but in reality, if you have never been down the track before how do you know? We’d tell people to pay attention to the orange blocks in the center of the track and once the passed the last pair, start slowing.
Long story short, we had some people who didn’t ask, and one guy, in totally classic fashion, decided he knew what was up.
The Honda Civic left the line, spinning the front tire approximately 1.3 revolutions before hooking up and working down the track. Along he ambled, and the scoreboard lit up with a 17-second elapsed time. He was having so much fun he kept going at full bore…for the entire ¾-mile length of the shutdown area. Faster and faster he went while safety workers waved flags, lights, and whatever else they could at him.
About three seconds before he buried the car into the sand at north of 100 mph he stood on the brakes, with basically no effect. The car hit the sand, and by the account of the safety people on hand, skittered 2-3 times like a stone skimming on water before burying itself (right side up) into a soft bed of silica.
This is a true story, remember.
The first safety person to get to the kid said, “Was your throttle stuck?!” The kid replied, “NO! I saw a green light to go but no red light to stop!”
We thought the safety crew was going to have to be hospitalized for hyperventilation because they were laughing so hard.
