Brian Lohnes: Here’s Why You’re Sick
Drag-and-drive events have taken over the nation.
I was at the first Hot Rod Drag Week in 2005. Carl Scott winning the deal with the nitrous car, Larson putting the little pulley on it to haul ass on the last day, a 1,000 mile trip to nowhere in one direction. I figured it was as good as it got and that would be the last time a group of lunatic fringe hot rodders would ever do something like that again. Boy, did I misjudge the lunatics.
Not only was that not the last time, it was an event that sparked a whole new genre of drag racing that has not only grown but completely exploded with time. There were more than 10 times the number of people on the Hot Rod Drag Week wait list for the 2021 event as there were actually racing in 2005. That’s freaking nuts.
So what makes YOU different? I have a word limit here, otherwise you’d be getting an Old Testament sized psych study. The reality is that those of you who participate in these events, many of you multiple events of this type per year, are seeking something that lots of drag racers think is gone: adventure.
Back in the day if you were a traveling racer, you were somebody. Just dragging your junk from the east coast to Indy was the type of thing that made you a local hero. Why? The race was the race, but the rest of it was the adventure. The truck stops, the questionable restaurants, the near-misses, the roadside fixes, the wacky places you stopped. Going out on the road elevated your status in the game. Well, guess what? It still does today.
Endurance-style drag races have forever made the chump with his “nine-second” car at the cruise night swallow his tongue. The loudmouth schmuck who is flapping his gums can be brought to heel with a simple question: “Ever run (insert any one of the myriad of endurance drag races that exist now)?”
After you hear about their third cousin dying that week or the fact that the transmission was slipping, or some other garbage, you can nod and walk away. Point proven.
I am fortunate in the sense that over the last 20 years of my life I have seen virtually every form of drag racing you can imagine. I’m not just saying this to say it, but nothing ever really stacks up to what is seen at these events we all love so much and around which this publication is built. It’s human endurance, it’s the will to compete, it’s the will to survive, it’s simply the most honest and grueling thing you can ever do in your hot rod.
Freiburger always said that Drag Week was a rip-off of One Lap of America with a whole bunch of Two Lane Blacktop mojo dumped in the pot. I see the first part of that statement as incorrect and the second part as spot on. Driving the route with the competitors to keep abreast of as many stories as possible and see the hard work being done by competitors is one thing. Seeing the camaraderie, the relationships, and the shared experience is quite another. It’s what defines these events and it’s why that will never be replicated by traditional drag racing.
At a normal drag race everyone shows up, races, and leaves. And then they do it again at the same place or somewhere else the next weekend. At an endurance drag race you show up, you sweat, you worry, you grind, you risk, you help, and you survive. Every single one of you leaves something at these events. A piece of your heart, a piece of yourself.
So that’s why you’re Sick. You not only choose to do the hardest thing, you revel in doing it. I salute every one of you reading this that has climbed the Rockies, run through the Midwest, braved the East Coast, or halfway melted in Texas.
Now get your stuff fixed for the next one.
- Brian Lohnes
