the_idle_threat
05-28-2007, 01:45 AM
Seeking their blades of glory
Why cut grass when you can drive really fast?
http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=611277
By BILL GLAUBER
bglauber@journalsentinel.com
Posted: May 27, 2007
Fifield - This is not your father's John Deere.
Dirt-spitting, engine-roaring, skidding through curves, reaching up to 45 mph on the tiniest of straightaways, there is something exhilarating and fascinating about watching (mostly) men and their suburban machines riding in circles.
We're talking lawn mower racing.
Call it go-karts for dads or the cheapest thrill on four wheels, but Sunday at a 600-foot dirt track lined with hay bales and set in this North Woods town in Price County, around 500 spectators showed up to watch 40 racers test their mettle - and riding lawn mowers - in eight separate classes.
It was loud and raucous, and even with 110 octane racing gas topping 5 bucks a gallon, pretty cheap fun.
"It's not a bunch of drunk, rowdy rednecks," said Randy Stys, 48, a production manager from Eagle River. "We race for the plastic (trophies) and the honor. Guys are not out for blood. They're out for bragging rights."
Ouch!
But this sport can hurt.
In an early heat, Stys and his old Bradford Wildcat mower - with custom valves, pistons and cam shaft, and new hydraulic brakes - went for a tumble.
The mower rolled, and so did Stys, who bumped a shoulder and a knee. He left the track with a grimace on his face, dirt on his jeans and a broken rib in his chest. The mower was a wreck - ripped steering wheel and broken brake line.
"I'm done for the day," said Stys, who was taken to a local hospital for X-rays.
It's a tough hobby.
Organized lawn mower racing has been around for a few decades. On April Fools' Day 1992, the Illinois-based U.S. Lawn Mower Association was formed, an announcement that was played up around the country. The Wisconsin Lawn Mower Association was created in 2001, the same year Fifield started playing host to the races.
The sport is governed by an 18-page rulebook that details everything from engines to mower frames to the conduct of the racers.
There is no bumping, no booze and no mower blades.
Racers sprint to their mowers for the start, hit the gas and take off.
Expensive hobby
Racers dump everything from $500 up to $8,000 to soup up their machines. In most classifications, the racers use lawn mower tires, engines and drive trains, although they can use go-kart axles and wheels.
"I wouldn't even want to think of adding up how much I've spent," said Troy Larson, 37, a general contractor from Prentice. "You can spend a living doing this. It costs you a thousand bucks a week just to go to the races. And I just went through three motors and they're two grand apiece."
Lawn mowers may be symbols of suburbia, but at this level they're the equivalent of muscle cars, brawny beasts of speed and noise.
"There is nobody here racing who actually mows their own lawn," said Steve Bertrand, 54, of Green Bay. "Once you race a mower, the mower at home is too slow."
It's a family thing
Bertrand quit racing in 2005 but serves as the track announcer. He also owns a hydraulic repair shop. When he's not calling the race, he's breaking down an engine.
"We're all trying to increase our carbon footprint," he said with a very sly smile spreading across his face.
"It's really a guy thing," he added.
Actually, it's more a family thing. There are a few female racers and several father-daughter teams.
Brooklynn Dunow, 10, of Marshfield won a junior division, while her dad, Rick Dunow, a truck driver, struggled in his classification.
Finding the rush
Heather Minaker, 25, a dental assistant from Eau Claire, finished third in her class. It was the first time she ever raced.
"The most fun I ever had. Steering was easier than I thought," Minaker said.
"I drive a 72-foot semi," Rick Dunow said. "Here, I'm just inches off the ground."
Everyone bonds over the need for speed.
"The adrenaline rush is fun," said Darrin Polzin, 23, a customer service manager from Wausau. "It's open wheel racing. No roll cages. No seat belts. No harnesses. You can run at 60 miles an hour with a bunch of other guys and when the wheels connect it's just like sprint racing."
It's bumpy and dirty and, if you can stay on your seat and stay in one piece, a whole lot of fun.
And it sure beats mowing the lawn.
http://graphics.jsonline.com/graphics/news/img/may07/mower2052707.jpg
Racers may spend thousands on their hobby. Their reward? Pride and plastic trophies.
Photo gallery here: http://www.jsonline.com/site/photographerphotos/gallery.aspx?catid=586
Why cut grass when you can drive really fast?
http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=611277
By BILL GLAUBER
bglauber@journalsentinel.com
Posted: May 27, 2007
Fifield - This is not your father's John Deere.
Dirt-spitting, engine-roaring, skidding through curves, reaching up to 45 mph on the tiniest of straightaways, there is something exhilarating and fascinating about watching (mostly) men and their suburban machines riding in circles.
We're talking lawn mower racing.
Call it go-karts for dads or the cheapest thrill on four wheels, but Sunday at a 600-foot dirt track lined with hay bales and set in this North Woods town in Price County, around 500 spectators showed up to watch 40 racers test their mettle - and riding lawn mowers - in eight separate classes.
It was loud and raucous, and even with 110 octane racing gas topping 5 bucks a gallon, pretty cheap fun.
"It's not a bunch of drunk, rowdy rednecks," said Randy Stys, 48, a production manager from Eagle River. "We race for the plastic (trophies) and the honor. Guys are not out for blood. They're out for bragging rights."
Ouch!
But this sport can hurt.
In an early heat, Stys and his old Bradford Wildcat mower - with custom valves, pistons and cam shaft, and new hydraulic brakes - went for a tumble.
The mower rolled, and so did Stys, who bumped a shoulder and a knee. He left the track with a grimace on his face, dirt on his jeans and a broken rib in his chest. The mower was a wreck - ripped steering wheel and broken brake line.
"I'm done for the day," said Stys, who was taken to a local hospital for X-rays.
It's a tough hobby.
Organized lawn mower racing has been around for a few decades. On April Fools' Day 1992, the Illinois-based U.S. Lawn Mower Association was formed, an announcement that was played up around the country. The Wisconsin Lawn Mower Association was created in 2001, the same year Fifield started playing host to the races.
The sport is governed by an 18-page rulebook that details everything from engines to mower frames to the conduct of the racers.
There is no bumping, no booze and no mower blades.
Racers sprint to their mowers for the start, hit the gas and take off.
Expensive hobby
Racers dump everything from $500 up to $8,000 to soup up their machines. In most classifications, the racers use lawn mower tires, engines and drive trains, although they can use go-kart axles and wheels.
"I wouldn't even want to think of adding up how much I've spent," said Troy Larson, 37, a general contractor from Prentice. "You can spend a living doing this. It costs you a thousand bucks a week just to go to the races. And I just went through three motors and they're two grand apiece."
Lawn mowers may be symbols of suburbia, but at this level they're the equivalent of muscle cars, brawny beasts of speed and noise.
"There is nobody here racing who actually mows their own lawn," said Steve Bertrand, 54, of Green Bay. "Once you race a mower, the mower at home is too slow."
It's a family thing
Bertrand quit racing in 2005 but serves as the track announcer. He also owns a hydraulic repair shop. When he's not calling the race, he's breaking down an engine.
"We're all trying to increase our carbon footprint," he said with a very sly smile spreading across his face.
"It's really a guy thing," he added.
Actually, it's more a family thing. There are a few female racers and several father-daughter teams.
Brooklynn Dunow, 10, of Marshfield won a junior division, while her dad, Rick Dunow, a truck driver, struggled in his classification.
Finding the rush
Heather Minaker, 25, a dental assistant from Eau Claire, finished third in her class. It was the first time she ever raced.
"The most fun I ever had. Steering was easier than I thought," Minaker said.
"I drive a 72-foot semi," Rick Dunow said. "Here, I'm just inches off the ground."
Everyone bonds over the need for speed.
"The adrenaline rush is fun," said Darrin Polzin, 23, a customer service manager from Wausau. "It's open wheel racing. No roll cages. No seat belts. No harnesses. You can run at 60 miles an hour with a bunch of other guys and when the wheels connect it's just like sprint racing."
It's bumpy and dirty and, if you can stay on your seat and stay in one piece, a whole lot of fun.
And it sure beats mowing the lawn.
http://graphics.jsonline.com/graphics/news/img/may07/mower2052707.jpg
Racers may spend thousands on their hobby. Their reward? Pride and plastic trophies.
Photo gallery here: http://www.jsonline.com/site/photographerphotos/gallery.aspx?catid=586