Pinewood Dreams - Part 3

My first trip to the Pinewood Derby in '84 was exciting. After analyzing my brother's loss from a few years earlier, my dad and I realized that the ideal racer would need extra weight in order to fly down the track. We figured the best solution would be to glue pennies to the bottom of the car. Aside from that difference, my racer looked exactly like my brother's had: a rectangular block of wood with four wheels. It had no slick modifications and no fancy paint job; that would come next year.

The derby was held in the gymnasium of my school. The excitement level was high; people were yelling and cheering and really getting into the races. Several tracks were set up, allowing multiple heats to occur at the same time. After my racer was weighed in, I was scheduled for the next heat.

When it was my turn, I placed my racer on the track, confident that the added weight would speed it to the finish line. I feared none of the other competitors and considered the race to be a mere formality. In my head, I had already won. The trophy was as good as mine.

The racers were held at the top of the track by a long piece of wood. Once all of the cars were in place, the piece of wood was lifted. The race was on. The racers sped away from the starting line, and mine quickly fell into last place. And then it happened. My car impossibly jumped the track and collided with the car next to it. That car tumbled off its track starting a chain reaction of destruction. After all was said and done, only one racer crossed the finish line.

I was devastated. Not only had I lost the race in grand fashion, but my racer had caused what was quite possibly the first ever pileup in Pinewood Derby history. I claimed my car from the wreckage, and my dad and I hightailed it out of there.

My Pinewood dreams had been shattered, at least until next year.

To Be Concluded