ARCA Lessons - Girls
Chapter 10 ARCA Lessons-Girls
It was all Carly and Dale could do not to laugh. “She’s unbelievable!” Carly said.
“God. What a bitch. Sounds like she’s still with Montoya. F**k. And he’s coming here, too.” Dale whispered.
“Yeah- That’s ok, babe, you’re twice the driver he is. You beat him in the IROC race two years ago, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, heh. I slammed him from the side, and sent him into the wall.” Dale laughed. “Oh, by accident of course!”
Carly giggled. “I actually saw that race! I was rooting for you from the grandstands!”
Dale blushed. “You were? Aw, that’s sweet. I wish I had known! But why weren’t you rooting for Jeff?”
“I liked you better. I didn’t know Jeff back then. I was a big fan of yours!” she smiled.
“Was???” he chuckled.
She kissed him. “Still am!” she whispered. She kissed him again and said “I better get out to the car. I guess I have to face her.”
“Oh, you poor thing. I wish I could be there, but I guarantee you she’d cause a scene. I’ll be hidden up in the grandstands somewhere. Today, I’ll be your fan! Ok?”
“Only today??” she laughed.
“NO!!! Every day. Forever. I promise. Now go, and drive the hell out of that car, ok babe? Convince the witch she doesn’t want to drive a stock car. You left the car tight, didn’t you?”
“Uh, no – just a tad loose. I was trying to be nice.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “I wanted her to think it was too hard to drive.” He sighed. “You’re too nice sometimes, babe!” He kissed her good-bye, and they reluctantly parted ways.
~~**~~
Carly got down to the pit area. Pamela was nowhere to be seen.
“She here?” Carly asked Scotty.
“Was. Then that Formula-1 driver got here, and she took off with him. Said she’d be right back.”
“Oh. I think I’ll take the car out again. Just a couple of laps. Ok, Scotty?” she smiled.
“Ok – but Carly, be warned – I tightened it up a bit. Tell me what you think.”
Carly grinned. “Seems you and Dale think alike. Ok, tight it is. I’ll make it look easy.” She put her helmet on, and got in the car. She spotted Pamela coming towards her, with a man. Carly figured it was Juan Montoya. She started the engine, and Scotty strapped her in. He stepped back, so she could leave.
“Hear me ok Scotty?” she said into her mike.
“10-4, CrackerJack. go, Go, GO!”
She saw Pamela and Montoya getting closer. She spun her tires and took off. She followed pit road speed rules, then accelerated out onto the track. Ken Schrader was out practicing too. She ran several laps with him, just cruising around, trading the lead, and drafting some.
“Ok, honey – quit showin’ off – bring ‘er back in now!” Scotty scolded.
“Why? Does she want to try it now?” Carly said. She all of the sudden did not want to give up her ride.
“Yes, she’s almost having a fit! Please get back here!” Scotty said.
“Aw. 10-4. I’m coming. Don’t let anything, or anyone, be in my pit stall. Put my sign out for me. One more lap, Ok?”
“OK! One lap. Then it’s IN for you.”
She ran her lap, and then ran another slow lap just to be defiant. She pulled onto pit road and slid to a stop, right on her mark. She took her time undoing the window net, and getting out. She waited before she took her helmet off. She did flip up her visor.
“Handles great Scotty. It’s a work of art. You guys are great!” she said to her crew. She started to pull off her gloves as she approached Pamela. Pamela and Juan had been watching from the pit wall.
“You must be Pamela. I’m Carly. How are you?”
“Um – Fine, thanks.” Pamela frowned. “Oh, forgive me,” she said, gesturing to Juan. “This is Juan Montoya, my boyfriend. He is also a racecar driver. But – not stock cars!”
“Hello.” Juan said, extending his hand.
Carly shook his hand. “I have seen you race before! I’m pleased to meet you. I hope I get a chance to race you in an IROC race someday!” Carly took off her helmet and smiled.
“I would enjoy that!” he said.
“Oh!” Pamela said. “I guess I met your sister at the airport in Charlotte. My, you two do look alike.” She gave Carly a cross-wise look.
“Yes, people tell us that all the time. My sister has returned to Charlotte. Well, Pam, are you ready to drive the racecar?”
“Ahem… It’s Pamela – I only go by Pamela, if you don’t mind!” She retorted.
“Forgive me! Pamela.” Carly said. They walked over to the car. Pamela looked at it.
“Who is CJ Grant? Is that you, per chance?” she addressed Carly, reading the name above the door.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. There was a Corey Grant that drove ARCA at the same time I did. I didn’t want to be confused with him, so I used my initials.”
“Well, that will have to go! I don’t want to be reminded that I’m only getting a hand-me-down car.”
“This is a hand-me-down car. It used to be a Winston Cup car. Steve Park drove it, then it got handed down to Kerry Earnhardt, then me. Now you get to drive it. It’s never been in a major wreck. Just fender-benders. But then again, you don’t have fender-benders when you drive open wheel. Don’t worry, Pamela, these cars can take lots of bumping and banging. You’ll do fine.” Carly smiled.
“Bumping and Banging? Ew. Ok. Um…Actually, I don’t bump and bang in a racecar.” she looked inside. “Lots of open space in here. No interior finishes?”
Carly raised an eyebrow.
“Just kidding!” Pamela gave a fake laugh. Carly could tell she was trying to save herself from looking stupid. “The Petty driving school car had a little bit of interior finish.”
Carly smiled. “Yes, I remember. I drove them too! Kyle Petty is a friend of mine now. Nice guy. And Pamela – stock car drivers bump and bang. You better get used to it. Or your race Friday night will be awfully short.”
Pamela looked at Juan. “Oh really…” she said. Juan nodded.
“Now you know why I drive the open wheel cars, darling. But you go ahead. Try the stock car. Get it out of your system.” He said to her with his Columbian accent.
Carly shot a sideways glance over to Scotty. He raised his eyebrows.
“I am sure I can do this!” Pamela stated. “You know, I used to go out with Dale Earnhardt Jr. I watched him race all the time. I’m sure I can do it, if he can.” Pamela looked up at Juan to see if he was jealous. He frowned at her.
“I have raced against him.” Juan said. “He is brutal on the racetrack. He doesn’t care who he wrecks. Do not try to imitate the likes of him, Pamela.”
Pamela looked at Carly. “You know him, don’t you? Aren’t you his teammate or something?”
“Yes, he is my teammate.” Carly answered.
“And just how is he?” she asked coyly.
“He seems to be fine. I’ll tell him you asked.” Carly said dryly.
“Thanks. I’m sure he’d love to see me. He was heartbroken when I left him. I hope he’s gotten over me by now! Say – Carly – do you know if he’s dating anyone right now?”
“I’m sure that’s none of your business, Pamela!” Juan stated. “You don’t need to go chasing him down. Let him be.”
“Oh Juan, honey, don’t be jealous. He’s so not my type. I don’t know what I saw in him – except that he was cute. But then you are cute too, sweetums!” She winked at him. He glared at her. Carly wanted to rip her head off.
“Ok” Scotty said. “Lets get this show on the road. Miss Morgan, go ahead and climb in. I’ll adjust your belts and safety devices. Then we’ll get the steering wheel snapped on tight. Are you ready?”
She had trouble climbing in, but she made it. It was funny to see her try to get comfortable. She was about 4 inches taller than Carly, and they hadn’t moved the seat any. Her knees were up around her elbows. She looked like Mike Waltrip when he drove.
“Are all stock cars like this?” Pamela asked. Carly leaned in the window after Scotty buckled her in.
“Yes, they are all pretty much like this. Now watch your pit road speed. When the tach gets right there…” Carly pointed to the gauge “you’re going 45 mph. That’s pit road speed here. When it’s straight up, you are going flat out. Try to keep it there. Watch for bumps in turn 3. Follow the groove on the track – you can see it. That’s your best bet. Other than fenders, this car is just like an open wheel car. You’ll do fine!”
Pamela flipped on the ignition. The car roared to life. She cautiously pulled out, and drove it onto the track. Scotty was talking to her on the helmet mike. Jack came up to talk to Carly.
“So was it tight?” he whispered.
“Uh huh. Not bad though. Enough to fatigue the arms after a while. I hope she doesn’t wreck the car. I’ll feel guilty if she does.” Carly whispered back.
“Hey” he murmured. “She wrecked Junior’s heart a couple years back. She deserves everything she gets. Don’t feel guilty.”
Carly smiled at him. “Thanks, buddy. I wish Junior were here.”
“I saw him – didn’t you?” Jack whispered again.
Carly winked. “Oh yeah, I saw him.” She smiled. “I mean I wish he were here with us right now. But I wouldn’t wish the wrath of Pamela on him. He really hates her.”
“Oh, I know it!” Jack laughed.
~~**~~
Pamela drove the car for about 10 laps before she brought it in to the pits. She hit the brakes too hard, and spun the car. The crew jumped over the wall and got the car pushed around straight for her, and she had to back it up to get it into the pit box.
She took her helmet off as Carly and Scotty leaned up to the window. “Ugh- this was not as nice as an F-1 car. Handles quite different. Um- it seems tight – is this normal?” she asked.
“Somewhat.” Carly answered. “The aerodynamics are completely different. This car drags through the air a lot more than the Formula cars.”
“You’ve driven a Formula car, have you?” Pamela challenged Carly.
“Yes. At Laguna Seca. Not in competition, but I have driven several practice courses there.” She answered. “I’ve also driven Indy cars.”
“Oh. Well. Aren’t you a fountain of information. Why, pray tell, do you compete in NASCAR?” Pamela asked, climbing out of the racecar.
“I love it. Pure and simple. If you hit the guy driving next to you, your car doesn’t explode. You just continue with the racing. If he gets you back, you go on and try to beat him. It’s the best kind of competition, really. In my opinion, anyway.” Carly answered, smiling.
“So you’re saying you love the banging and bashing. I find that a bit un-sportsman like. I don’t know about this.” Pamela mused.
“Pamela, darling,” Juan interjected. “you tried it, now you know. You don’t have to race Friday. Just put this silly idea of stock car racing out of your head. I’ll get you a good ride in Formula One. You just need a little more experience. But this is not the venue for you to get experience. Come on, lets go.”
Pamela shot him a dagger look. “No, Juan darling, I think I want to try a real race. I will just try to avoid the fender banging part. Ok? And I will need a spotter. You will do that for me, wont you?” She batted her eyes at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Ok – darling – if you insist. But you won’t like it.”
“Oh, I don’t know – Carly likes it, so why wouldn’t I?” She teased.
Juan looked at Carly. Then he looked at Pamela. “She’s different than you, darling. She’s …eh…um…Well, just different.”
Jack was standing next to Carly. He placed his hand firmly on her shoulder, as if to hold her onto the ground. “It’s ok, Jack. Really.” Carly smiled up at him and whispered. “Dale says I’m different from her too. And I know it’s a compliment coming from him! And that’s all that matters to me!”
Jack smiled. “Junior’s right on that one.”
Pamela got back in the car, and drove some more practice laps. She had them make some adjustments, to get the feel of what adjustments do to the handling. She drove with some other cars, but tried to avoid getting close to them. She was really afraid of hitting them. Carly got on the radio with her.
“Pamela – its ok to get close to them! If you touch, it wont hurt. I mean don’t slam ‘em, but a little rubbing is ok!”
“Rubbing?” she responded.
“Yeah – We have a saying in NASCAR – “Rubin’ is Racin’” Did you see Days of Thunder?”
“Uh – I might have. But I did date Tom Cruise right after he split with Nicole!” She answered.
“No Kidding?” Carly responded. “Is he as cute in person as he is in the movies?”
Pamela laughed. “Carly, he’s short! He’d be ok for you, though. You’re short. Just not my type. I can arrange for you to meet him, if you want to! Hey!!! What is that car doing on my rear bumper??”
“Probably drafting. Is he touching you?” Just then they drove by, and Carly saw Ken Schrader following Pamela.
“Pamela – he is a very experienced driver. He has driven all kinds of cars. He knows what he’s doing. Just go with it – gather experience. He won’t wreck you – I promise!”
“Oh – no – I need to get out of his way!! What do I do? Should I move up the track?”
“Slowly – signal with your hand – or you might get loose and wind up in the wall!” Carly instructed.
Pamela panicked, and jerked the wheel up, and lost control. She spun, and wound up resting against the outer wall.
“Oh!” she shrieked. “I wrecked the car!”
“You OK??” Scotty asked.
“I suppose. What do I do now? Will the tow truck come?”
“No, Pamela, you have to turn the car around and drive it back here. Come right to the pits.” Scotty instructed.
“Drive it?? You want me to drive this? It’s wrecked. How can I drive it??” she yelled.
“It’ll drive ok, Pamela. Just start it up, turn it around and drive it back here. It will go with flat tires. Just go slow. Come on! The track officials will get mad if you don’t get that car off the track.” Scotty scolded.
“NO, I refuse. Get a tow truck. I will not drive this wreck.” With that, she got out of the car.
“Stay there!!” Carly and Scotty yelled into the radio. “Leave your helmet on!! Don’t cross the track! A tow truck is on the way!! Just stay put!!”
It took about 2 minutes for the wrecker to get there. Pamela reluctantly got into the truck with the driver, as they towed the car back to the garage area.
“Was she waiting for a limo?” Jack whispered to Carly. Carly just laughed.
The wrecker took the car right to the garage. Dale had seen what happened from the grandstands, and figured Pamela and Juan would leave, so he started walking to the garage area to meet up with Carly. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt with a hood that he had pulled up over his head.
Pamela insisted that she needed to get some air, and she and Juan took a walk. Carly stayed with the car. There was no real damage, just two flat tires and some scraped fenders. Carly was under the car with Scotty getting another lesson on track bars when Dale showed up.
Carly felt a hand on her ankle. “Zat you babe?” he said, tugging on her leg.
“Zat’s me!” she laughed, mimicking him.
He laid on his back, and slid under the car with her and Scotty. “Whatcha learning?” he asked.
“Track bars. This car just hit the wall, slightly. Just seeing what they look like now.” Scotty answered. “Junior, what do you see?”
Dale looked at the track bar. “Uh- nothin’. It looks ok to me.”
“It looks ok, but did you feel it?” Scotty answered.
“You said what do you SEE, Scotty. Not how does it feel.” Dale laughed. He wiggled the track bar. “It’s loose. It got jarred when she hit the wall.”
“Smart ass. Ok, see Carly, things aren’t always as they appear. Sometimes though, we have to send you back out on the track with only a pit stop, and these things are loose. We need you to pay attention. But you’ve always done a good job at sensing problems.”
“Hey!” Jack kicked Scotty’s foot. “Company! Her comes Princess shit-head and Prince not-so-charming!”
