So the day of the big race approached. Silvia had by this time acquired an official Pinewood Derby Rule book and asserting her Germanness decides that our earlier efforts had either (a) violated an obscure rule or (b) had not taken advantage of other obscure rules and were therefore inadequate. So two new kits were purchased and we started from scratch.
Brian's car is modeled from a Bat-mobile car. It Weighs exactly five ounces. I know this cause Silvia took four trips to the UPS store to make sure (our cooking scale not being precise enough) So several insertion of fishing weights, drilling and shaving later it is ready. We also spent a ton of time polishing the axles and wheels.
My second effort. I didn't try to make mine look like anything; I went straight geek on it. The starting mechanism on the track is a pin that gets bent forward, as such if the front of your car is a reverse wedge with the highest point the only part touching the pin, your car will start moving the second the pin starts to bend. If the wedge is the other way your car wont start to move until the pin clears the very bottom. So I always got a head start in my races. The problem with the design is about as aerodynamic as a red rider wagon.
To counteract this I took a hole saw and drilled out most of the wood in the opposite angle, leaving only a little bit up top for the starting pin to rest on. Pretty dang clever if you ask me, and since I am writing this blog I took the initiative and did ask me. I didn't spend much time on my axles and wheels because I wasn't planing on racing or anything. Mine also only weighed 4.9 oz and I didn't try to max it out on weight because, again I didn't think it mattered.
The day of the race arrived. Last minute
adjustments were made and Silvia with the rules firmly in mind examined the other entries with thinly disguised outrage. She was sure that many of them were not regulation. (Wir müssen die Richtlinien ständig ehren!!)
adjustments were made and Silvia with the rules firmly in mind examined the other entries with thinly disguised outrage. She was sure that many of them were not regulation. (Wir müssen die Richtlinien ständig ehren!!)
I brought my car just in case I could try it out against Brian's after the race and see how my quick start design worked out. Little did I know the founders of the Derby in their wisdom took into account the pension for immature fathers and had an "other" category for non scout racers. I raced in the regular heats with all the other cars, but my times were kept separate and only counted against the other, "other" racers.....both of them.
Que my nemisis!! There she is in the pink over by the laptop which records our time (I know, I thought it suspicious too) Don't let Ashley fool you with her shy smile and three foot frame, I am quite certain that she is an evil Pinewood Genious complete with lab and hunchedback assistant. Did I mention that is her big brother who is mediating the whole match? I knew I had an uphill battle ahead of me; a titanic struggle in which only one of us would emerge.
That is her car, the pink one. It sets next to the eventual winner of the scout cars. Its the green and white "arrow." (belonging to another one of her brothers!)
It seems I'd have to take on the lot of them.
By the way, getting spanked by a pink car? insult to injury there.
Here is the last entry in the "other" category. The pencil car created by, you guessed it, Ashley's mother!
Here is the last entry in the "other" category. The pencil car created by, you guessed it, Ashley's mother!
The heats began. I lost my first race but then won my next several in a row. My quick start mechanism was a success. I always got the head start and when I got beat it was always by getting past at the very end (my inattention to my wheels and not maxing out on the weight coming into play) I watched Ashley with interest. She was knocking off heats left and right. Her laughing and clapping facade whether she won or lost, a poorly disguised front for the malicious glee she felt in crushing those who opposed her.
At last, about my fifth race I line up and see Ashley sees me from across the room. Her smirk proceeds her as she gets her pink hope slayer from the table and sets it next to mine. I cannot remember who the third car was nor did it matter, the whole room knew that there were just two cars in this race!
We begin. My car jumps out to a quick start as always. As the track begins to level, Ashley's pink car starts to gain on mine rapidly but it is to late! My car crosses first and my dominance is assured!.......... Or so I thought. Ashley, as always, is laughing and clapping; her false mirth masking her thoughts of revenge.
We go on to several more heats, both her and I vanquishing all comers. Then it happens they call both our names again. I don't know how she managed to arrange it and I don't know why she wants another taste of the despair that comes from racing my black nightmare. I line up my confidence much greater this time. We start. Again my jumps out to the lead again Ashley's begin to close this time my start seemed a little less sure, Ashley's advance more swift. She passes me. In a flash of pink I am vanquished!
The match is over and the times are tallied. They announce me the winner! I had beaten Ashley by 8 hundredths of a second average time over the course of the ten or so races. The classic story of David and Goliath comes to mind. The virtual unknown with an unproven design challenges the evil establishment of the Ashley family and triumphs!
With the hopes and dreams of the six year old girl ground to dust and watered with her tears, I counted it a great day. Ashley never did let her happy clapping facade slip. Who knows what diabolical plans of revenge are hatching behind her cherubic features? We will see next year.
