Driving in a demolition derby is usually on a list of things to do before you die. It is a smorgasbord of American culture rolled up in one momentous event. You think of the derby and imagine greasy hillbillies and a lot of beer. No suits or wine sipping yuppies, just real working class people making the best what they have, turning a piece of junk into a form of entertainment. This is precisely what I found (minus the beer) when we entered a car in the demolition derby at the Cuyahoga County Fair.

    I was able to find a car and some pals to help get the car together. We had a week and a half to fix up (or down) a '93 Pontiac Grand Am. The car ran, but the previous owner could not pass e-check, so he gave it to us have at it. The basic requirements were to strip all plastic and glass from the car: tail lights, plastic bumpers, all windows, etc. When we started stripping the plastic off, things started getting scary. It seemed like the whole car was plastic. We did most of our work with a beer in one hand, a crowbar in the other, and an earful of punk rock. After a couple cuts and knuckle busters we finished the car. We made sure that we followed the requirements to a tee, since this was our first demolition derby and we didn't want to put all this effort in only to get shut down at registration. To completely finish the car, we did a hillbilly paint-roller paint job with some stenciling. All told, it took us twenty man hours to finish, although next time we could probably do it in fifteen.

    The car unfortunately was too heavy for the compact car class, and I was getting scared thinking that I was going to be on the track with a big old Cadillac. On the day of registration, though, I found out that they like to put like-size cars in the same derby, so it worked out. As the "Pit Crew" and I waited for the event, we were a little nervous, since all of our work was about this day. We pulled into registration and got the old twenty questions about, "have you been drinking?" and "do we have beer in the car?" (Of course we didn't, we would not do all this work just to get kicked out. In fact, when I was walking around some, checking out the other cars and gabbing with the drivers, and I did not see any beer at all.) 

    Everyone was really cool and helpful. A couple guys had some problems with their cars, and there were always a couple of guys jumping in to give a hand.  I had one little scare myself: I was so concerned about making sure we got the car up to specifications that I had skimmed passed the driver requirements. It stated that drivers needed to wear pants and a long-sleeved shirt. It was in the high 80's that day, so I was not wearing either. I had to run down the road to the store and grab some cheap clothes.

    I got back in time to listen to the rules at driver orientation. The rules are simple: 1. Do not hit the driver side door ("You're not out there kill the driver, just there car.") 2. "Hit cars. Don't just be sandbagging them. Get out there and smash!"  (There were other rules dealing with safety, but those aren't as fun.) Before I knew it we were out driving out on to the track, staging our cars. I was in the number three heat, so I was going to have a couple smokes and chill out while watching the other heats. First was compact cars, and there was at least twelve of them out there. It was great to watch, because they were really getting smashed up. Then it occurred to me that I was about to go out there in a few minutes.

    Finally I went back to my car, threw my long pants over my shorts, and jumped into the car. I smoked one last cigarette and threw the helmet on. Before I knew it, the car in front of me was pulling out on to the track. I quickly started the car and pulled out into the starting position. I looked over at the driver next to me, and he said "Hey, you should probably put your seat belt on." Then the judge told me to put my seat belt on, too, so I started frantically trying to it on but couldn't find the receiving clip. I was thinking to myself "Oh shit, we cut it out!" After what seemed like an eternity I finally find it, though, so now that I was buckled in, the race could start.

    The horn blew, and we all aimed to rear end each other. I floored it in reverse just like the guy that was lined up to hit me, and then, BAM! That first hit was a real shocker. It got me realizing that this ain’t no bumper cars at Cedar Point! After that I pulled forward and rear-ended someone else. After I hit the second car, my car stalled. I thought, "Shit, we just started!" but the next thing I knew the horn blew to pause the race for a time-out. Evidently someone accidentally rammed into someone's driver side door.

    While in the time-out I was able to get my car started. I was back in it! I started smashing into some cars, and then I got nailed by someone, causing my car to stall again. I was freaking out trying to get it restarted while still getting hit. It started up again, and I began using my front end to ram people a little more. Then I again got hit and stalled. Right as the horn blew calling the race, my car came back to life. They called out the winning cars, and I was thinking, "Well, maybe i won!" but when I leaned out of the car to check the number spray painted on my door, it hit me harder than any car could. I didn't win. I start to cry a little, and my wife and daughter ran out on the track to console me. They told me how much they love me and that I will get 'em next year. (The previous two sentences did not actually happen. I'm just getting a little carried away writing this.)

    I drove off the track proudly, since most of the other cars were totaled and had to get dragged off. I jumped out of the car to check are damage. It actually held up really well! I asked my friend from the Pit Crew if he wanted to drive it in the Second Chance Race later that night.  "Hell, yeah!" he said. The problem for my friend was that he was going to be with the big old cars. Didn't phase him. His race ran very similarly to mine: He kept stalling. He ended up coming in third like I did and ended up drove the car off proudly while others got towed. The major difference between our races was that the car was totally demolished after his heat. It's amazing to think that someone survived in the car.

    The demolition derby was definitely one of the coolest things I have ever done. It is not just about driving in the derby itself, although that's cool, too. It's also getting the car together, making something out of nothing, and living a skewed version of the American dream. I hope to do it again next year (although my wife thinks I got this out of my system. Don't tell her.) If you've ever wanted to, you should definitely try it. It's worth the time, and you will not regret it...unless you die, or something.