october-2010

078 TRAVEL REPORT: NORTH CAROLINA
The first round went to Biffle, but I was determined to get the
best of him. Unfortunately, “determination” and “success” are not
the same thing.
THE MAIN INTERACTIVE AREA IS ON THE SECOND
floor and features exhibits that allow visitors to set tire pressures,
choose shocks and pretend they’re in the broadcast booth calling a
race. First mission: Set up the car. Sitting down at the crew chief ’s
console, the screen took us through a quick tutorial on shocks,
tire pressure and changes in weather. My confidence was growing:
“Hey, this guy’s a driver. What does he know about setting up a
car?” The answer, it turns out, is plenty.
After presenting us with tire pressures from a previous race,
the screen indicated that it was now cloudy and about 10 degrees
cooler. Should we raise, lower or keep the tire pressure the same?
And for which tires? I guessed right that tire pressure had to go
up in order to maintain the same performance on a cooler track.
Where I stumbled was where to raise the pressure the most. I went
with right rear. Biffle, snickering “Rookie” under his breath, knew
the correct answer was right front.
Up next: the Pit Crew Challenge, where we had to jack up
a car, change the rear tire, fill the gas and then lower the jack.
Piece of cake. It’s just like on TV (or so I thought). A good time
in NASCAR is about 14 seconds, and as we waited our turn, some
visitors took as long as 38 seconds to complete the challenge. A
team of three did it in a little more than the NASCAR-approved
time, but Biffle and I were on our own. (Of course, real pit crews
have seven people.)
Stepping up to the starting line with a determined look on his
face, Biffle leapt into action. He jacked up the car in two muscular
cranks, quickly dropped to his knees, picked up the air gun, and
had the five lug nuts off and back on quicker than anyone before us.
He then took two sidesteps to the rear of the car, hoisted the gas can
on his shoulder with ease, topped off the fuel and lowered the jack.
His time? A hair under 22 seconds. I did all right compared to the
other amateurs, but still couldn’t match Biffle. I didn’t jack up the
car as quickly as he did, took longer on the lug nuts, and ended up
losing by more than a second.
Going into our last event, the simulated NASCAR race, I had
pretty much conceded defeat. My only hope—and I’m not proud
to admit this—was to try and wreck him. Unfortunately, I couldn’t
even catch him. At the drop of the green flag, Biffle mashed his
foot on the gas and easily kept control of the ill-handling race car,
moving into a commanding lead that he’d never give up. I managed
to handle the sensitive steering and pass a few cars driven by other
visitors, but was nudged from behind by another driver toward the