Petaluma Around the Clock: “Backstage” at the Speedway

What the fans in the stands don’t see at Petaluma’s historic racetrack|

A swarm of bees.

A big one.

That’s what it sounds like from just outside the gates at the Petaluma Speedway, adjacent to the Sonoma-Marin Fairgrounds, where the sound of numerous engines buzzing out a baritone symphony reaches the ears of early arrivers, now standing in line to buy a ticket.

It’s 4:44 p.m.

The stands overlooking the track are still mostly empty of onlookers, the main events still being a couple of hours away. But there’s still plenty of action, motion, bustle, and noise at the Speedway, if not out here in front than definitely “backstage,” in the pit area, where drivers and their crews started arriving just after noon. Once through the gates, they’ve been tuning their cars, setting up their pits, and socializing with other drivers, many of whom have been racing at the speedway for decades. Established in 1961, and now celebrating its 56th consecutive year, the Petaluma Speedway is currently Sonoma County’s oldest outdoor sports facility.

“Slow down turbo! No one ever wins the race of life!”

So exclaims one of the two amiable ticket-takers at the gate, overheard in the midst of some acceleration-oriented tall tale.

“Warning!” states a sign on the chain link fence just to the right of the ticket booth. “Stay off Guardrails, all Barriers, and Completely Away From All Fences.”

At 4:51, racetrack promoter Rick Faeth - who’s been with the Speedway for seven years - zips up to the gate in a speedy golf-cart, to escort his visitor backstage.

“We just opened to the public about 45 minutes ago,” he explains, maneuvering up over a small berm, around the North end of the track, and down to the Pits. “This is Hot Laps, and practicing, and qualifying,” he says, nodding his head in the direction of track. “A lot of people come in early to watch this, but the racing really starts at six, so we’ll see a whole lot more folks filling the stands in about an hour. We really get going around seven, for the heat races, and the main events. It’s really a seven-to-ten show, here at the Speedway.”

The track hosts 23 races a year, from the end of March to the middle of October, and rain doesn’t necessarily close down the action. Though it has done that twice in the last month.

“We had to cancel opening night on March 24, and then we had to cancel the show on April 7,” Faeth says with a shrug. “Weather. It happens.”

As a result, he adds, tonight’s races, which would have been the fourth race night of 2018, will instead be the Speedway’s second night of races.

Behind the track is the pit area, aka “backstage,” where the colorful, somewhat muddy, landscape - dotted here and there with race cars of all sizes, numerous pickups, tractors, tow-trucks - resembles a blend of a construction zone, a FEMA disaster site, and a circus. Over the loudspeaker, a woman’s voice gives occasional directions and announcements. A long row of trailers stretches the length of the field, each a mobile pit operation for a different driver, their cars waiting and ready.

In the middle of the “street,” if that’s the right word, right in front of a short dirt “onramp” leading up to (and out onto) the race track, a row of three small wingless Sprint cars waits for the signal to be pushed up onto the track. Behind each car is a truck, specially outfitted with front grid-like bumpers.

“We’re the pushers,” says Becky McCoy, from behind the wheel of a ’73 Chevy Blazer, already queued up, directly behind one wingless Sprint car, beside two other cars, their own pushers already in place as well. “Sprint cars don’t have starters, so they have to be pushed to get going,” McCoy explains. At the moment, the previous group of cars are still out on the track, participating in a pre-show process called mud-packing, while also allowing the drivers to get the feel of the track. Once each pusher has assisted a Sprint car in getting going, they drive back around and get into place again, waiting for another car to push.

When the Sprint cars are done, the bigger race cars will get a turn to do hot laps.

“That’s when you see mud flying up over the wall,” McCoy grins.

McCoy is married to long-time Speedway driver Shawn McCoy.

“I sat in the stands about ten years, before I met Shawn,” she says. “And then I rode around back here with his dad, who was a pusher for a long time. He passed away last year, and now I push.”

At about 5:23 p.m., McCoy gets the signal, and puts the Blazer in drive, quickly escalating as she pushes the Sprint forward. After several seconds, the Sprint car kicks into motion and pulls out onto the track, as McCoy veers away and finds a path around the track and back to where she started.

“Sometimes they start right away, other times the push-car ends up on the track, too, if the Sprint car doesn’t get going quick enough,” she says. “Sometimes I can feel the engine start, but other times I can’t tell if they’ve started or not, so the driver has to wave me off.”

Asked if there is a certain skill set required for being a pusher, McCoy laughs.

“You just have to keep steady, and follow what they do,” she says. “‘Cause if you run over their tire or something, they get really mad.”

McCoy, in place again, waits for the signal and pushes another Sprint car toward the track, then disappears out of sight. From backstage, the stadium now appears to be significantly fuller than it was 45 minutes ago.

“Big Thunder, in Heat 1, let’s go! I need you in Staging,” comes the voice over the loudspeaker. “Big Thunder. Heat 1. I need you now! Let’s go racing!”

At 6 p.m., everything stops for the National Anthem, the drone of engines momentarily softening to a low purr. When the Star Spangled Banner ends, engines all over the area rev their enthusiasm as fans in the stands applaud. Then after a few more announcements, the racing begins.

From the parking lot, where a small crowd is making their way to the gate, the bee swarm sound is now significantly louder than it was before. In the stands, the fans cheer for their favorite cars and drivers. Taken all together, the various noises make up a contagiously happy uproar.

Of course, as Faeth mentioned earlier, the Speedway is a seven-to-ten show.?And the night is only just beginning.

(Contact David at david.templeton@arguscourier.com)

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