July 30, 2007 — Enjoy The Drive

Getting to the race can be a lot of fun, too.

I read a post on an Internet message board the other day from a west coast fan who attended the recent USAC Indiana Sprint Week. He mentioned how much he enjoyed the event, and said one of the highlights was the beautiful scenery he passed on the way to and from each track.

That observation would probably make most of us Midwesterners laugh. Cornfields? Flat terrain? And he used the word “beautiful”?

Actually, he’s right. We tend to take it for granted, but it is beautiful here in Indiana, particularly in the spring, summer, and autumn. But this isn’t, of course, exclusive to the Hoosier state; as a matter of fact, most of rural America is quite scenic.

I’ve been lucky enough to visit every state but Alaska, and I’ve had road trips in every one. I suppose this is one of the requirements for being an avid race fan, but I enjoy driving. I like seeing the countryside, looking at the farms and homes, watching for deer and other wildlife, all the while keeping an eye peeled for traffic cops.

Some of the drives were quite memorable, and I’d make the trip again tomorrow if the opportunity arose. For example, a couple of times I’ve driven from Las Vegas to Phoenix (or Los Angeles), following Nev. Hwy. 95 south, a fast, two-lane road leading to the fringes of the Mojave Desert. Wow! Talk about scenic! The earth somehow seems vastly larger there, because you’re virtually alone on the highway, even in the middle of the day. It makes you feel like the proverbial speck in the universe.

Another very cool drive is from Boulder, Colo. west through the little town of Nederland, then south through Black Hawk, and eventually down to Golden, where you catch I-70 back into Denver. Spectacular Rocky Mountain scenery, to be sure.

There’s a stretch of U.S. 160 in Missouri, from Gainesville to Poplar Bluff, that’s also quite scenic. It’s obviously very different than the Rocky Mountains, but beautiful nonetheless, and quite challenging with plenty of winding curves and hills.

Closer to home, one of my favorite drives is U.S. 36 from Pendleton, Ind. to Greenville, Ohio, which is the preferred route from central Indiana to Eldora Speedway (there are a dozen different ways to get to Eldora, and you’re not really a race fan unless you know at least six).

I also enjoy making the drive to Attica Raceway Park in the Buckeye state. From Indy I follow Ind. 67 up through Bryant, then turn east through Celina, St. Marys, and Wapakoneta. Then it’s north on I-75 to Findlay, where I’ll head east through Tiffin. The Ohio countryside is quite pretty, especially on a sunny summer afternoon.

Oh, and one more: Take U.S. 421 from Greensburg, Ind. to Versailles. Then take Ind. 129 south to Vevay, and follow Ind. 156 east/north along the Ohio River. Cross the river at Markland if you’re going to Kentucky Speedway; otherwise stay on 156 and you’ll eventually find Lawrenceburg Speedway. I love that trip!

Of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I love rural America, but not everyone shares that view. I was working a television broadcast from Knoxville, Iowa a few years ago, and the producer was from New York City. Knoxville is a charming town, and I assure you that drive-by gang shootings are not a problem there. But as the show concluded that night, the producer left the television truck as quickly as possible, hurrying to his rental car. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of this god-forsaken dump of a town,” he moaned. “Get me back to the city!”

Such views simply make me shake my head. I’ve been to New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Chicago, Miami, Dallas, Seattle, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. I’ve also been to Sydney, Auckland, Montreal, Vancouver, and Tokyo. All are interesting and you can find attractive places in each. The fact is, I’d pass up the lot of them for Knoxville if I had the choice. But that’s just me.

It’s probably good to appreciate what’s all around you. We race fans endure a lot of windshield time, traveling to and from our favorite venues. Usually it’s a sunny trip over, and home in the darkness. Either way, it’s best to savor the miles, because if you look upon them with dread it makes them seem all that much longer.

Wherever you’re headed, be safe. Watch for the cops, don’t litter, and I’ll see you at the races!

For more on Dave Argabright visit:

http://www.daveargabright.com

July 23, 2007 - Remembering Rich Vogler

Driver had a bigger impact than he ever could have expected.

It was a beautiful Saturday evening this past weekend, the kind of night when you’re simply glad to be alive. The blazing sun was settling on the horizon, the blue skies seemed endless, and an exciting night of racing was just getting underway.

At the moment, I couldn’t imagine my mind being anywhere else but there at Tri-State Speedway in Indiana, enjoying the moment.

But as he prepared to begin the invocation, Dave Cochran of American Racing Ministries asked us to pause for a moment to remember Rich Vogler, who died 17 years ago on this day (Saturday). As I stood there in silence, my mind raced to a vivid image of Rich, smiling, climbing into a race car, calm and confident and timeless.

17 years? That’s impossible. Alas, it’s true; July 21, 1990 was the stormy night at Salem when Rich was killed in a violent sprint car crash. A bunch of racers in tonight’s pit area were wearing diapers at the time, or not yet born. It’s difficult to convey to any of them just how meaningful Rich’s life was, and what a huge loss his death was to a great number of people.

He was truly one of USAC’s greatest racers of all time, both statistically and in terms of his persona. He won, yes, but it was more than that; he was a larger-than-life racer who somehow brought out powerful emotions in people. Some loved him, and some, well, they didn’t love him. He was aggressive and hard-nosed on the race track, and his style ruffled more than a few feathers along the way. Off the track he was a completely different person. Quiet to the point of shy, he was a somewhat diminutive man who could easily disappear into a crowd.

To say that Rich and I were friends would be stretching it; it was more like professional acquaintances. I found him to be a compelling character who was punctual and professional and a pleasure to work with.

But Rich Vogler touched my life in a way he will never know. Two years before his death I had begun writing a column here at NSSN, and I was still very much finding my way as a writer. I had written for nearly nine years, but my work to that point was nondescript to say the least. The style here at NSSN at the time—and in most other racing publications—was very traditional, and writing a column in first-person was frowned upon. I was struggling within those confines, because I had discovered that the traditional who-what-where-when-why type of story didn’t satisfy a growing urgency deep inside me, a sense that I wanted to communicate more to our readers.

What was happening was very simple, and natural: I was finding my “voice,” which every writer must do in order to really begin their journey. Your voice is something like your soul, only it’s poured out in sentences and paragraphs and shared with the world. When you find it, it’s a major breakthrough in your craft. It isn’t easy; it’s a matter of confidence, and your brain keeps telling you “You’re no good at writing…Who do you think you are?…You’ll be laughed at if you try this!”

I was some 200 miles from Salem Speedway on that fateful Saturday night, covering the King’s Royal at Eldora Speedway. I learned of Rich’s death that night before I left the track. The news sent a powerful shock through my mind, because up to that point Rich was by far the closest individual I had known to lose his life in a racing crash. On the two-hour ride home from Eldora my mind was jumbled with thoughts and emotions, and when I got home I could hardly sleep. The following morning I awoke and instinctively headed for the keyboard, allowing the story to pour from my heart and mind through my fingers, amazed at the way the words formed so easily on the computer screen. In less than an hour the column was finished; writing had never before come so naturally.

The finished column was essentially unlike anything I had written in the previous nine years. It’s sad that it took the passing of a man whom I liked, respected, and admired to lead me to finally listen to my writer’s instincts. From that Sunday morning on, writing was on a completely different plane for me. Did it come easier? Well, sort of, but that’s not the right word…it’s really more about confidence, a sense of knowing what you want to say and refusing to allow the established world to tell you how to say it.

Frankly, I think of Rich often when I think about writing from the standpoint of my craft. There isn’t any question that his death sparked emotions that literally changed the course of my life.

Rich Vogler was a legend, and sometimes we wrap legends in the folds of glory and place them on a pedestal. I don’t think of Rich in that way, though. I think of him simply as a devoted friend, husband and father. He left three young boys, and no matter how much glory you want to lavish onto a legend, it’s still a matter of heartbreaking loss for three little boys.

Even though his memory still makes me sad, it’s good to think about Rich Vogler. That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

Welcome To My Blog

It may just be a cure for the Monday blues.

In the beginning it was an interesting discovery, a curious concept. This thing called the Internet first caught my attention in the early 1980s, when “home” computers from Radio Shack and Commodore ruled. Then came an affair with dial-up CompuServe and I was hooked.

Today the Web is an indispensable part of my life. I utilize it almost constantly for news, research, e-mail, and so forth, so much so that it takes me a couple of vacation days to fight past the urge to always be connected to the Web.

That’s why I’m excited that National Speed Sport News is stepping up its use of the Web to communicate with our readers. NSSN has been in the communication business since 1934, so it makes sense to use this new medium to further reach our audience.

But this “blog” thing is a bit new to me. I’ve written racing columns in the print medium since 1983, but the electronic world is just a bit different. While I’ve always tried to reach out from the page to connect with the reader, there are unwritten rules and etiquette that seem to limit and constrain the writer. The electronic world seems less formal, and more intimate, so I’ll admit to being immediately intrigued when NSSN Senior Editor Mike Kerchner asked me to contribute a weekly blog each Monday.

Why Monday? That was my question, too. Mondays are sometimes a recovery day from a tough weekend of racing and traveling, and sometimes the fatigue makes the words come hard. On the other hand, maybe readers are like I am…sometimes I’m looking for a bit of a pick-me-up on Monday. That’s how I’m looking at this blog: I want to provide an interesting, upbeat viewpoint that for a few moments might allow you to escape the dreary start of another workweek.

However, it’s been 20 years since I’ve committed to a weekly column. My American Scene columns with NSSN have been on an informal “when the spirit moves me” basis since 1988, and that will continue. Before that, from 1983 to 1987, I wrote a weekly racing column for the Anderson (Ind.) Herald. Now that I’m remembering that weekly deadline, I’m wincing. Kerchner definitely caught me at a weak moment.

Not that I mind the deadline…it’s just that one of the occupational hazards for any columnist is burnout, and the ongoing challenge of keeping your work fresh and interesting. So my goal is to continue to step back a little bit and look for a fresh perspective.

While I hope to write about all kinds of racing here, I’m a short-track guy at heart. But I still enjoy almost any loud machine with wheels, so I’ll probably toss in some off-the-wall racing stuff now and again.

I hope you’ll join me each Monday. Aw, c’mon, you can surely sneak away a few minutes at work for a visit, right? Or maybe when you get home, as you unwind from the workday. Either way, understand that each time you return here, you’re what I consider a VIP. My primary reason for writing is to connect with you, the reader, and this blog will be one more way that you and I can get to know each other a little more.

Thanks for reading, and come on back next week when we get started in earnest.

For more on Dave Argabright visit:

http://www.daveargabright.com