Pinewood Derby

Yesterday, I walked into the Boy Scouts of South Plains office and told them I wanted 18 pinewood derby kits. They were all out, so I prepaid for them to hold me 18 kits from the order they were expecting the next day. When the woman asked which troop I was from, and I told her I wasn't from a troop, I'm sure she was wondering what was going on, just as I'm sure all five of the people who read my blog are wondering what was going on.

In one of our more productive meetings to decide what to do for the monthly combined branch FHE, Layne suggested we sponsor an event he called "Chilianapolis 500." Many years ago, he was the Elder's Quorum President in the branch, and this was an activity they did, which combined a pinewood derby with a chili cookoff. He boasted that there were no women invited, and then added that, with that many guys eating chili, they probably wouldn't have wanted to come anyway. However, he has since decided that it is an acceptable co-ed activity, and I agree. Two weeks from yesterday will be the first co-ed Chilianapolis 500.

We will have two categories, one for people who follow the rules, and one for people who want to attach rocket boosters to their cars. Having virtually no engineering experience, I am entering my car in the first category. This blog post will be a step-by-step documentation of my experience. Brace yourselves.

Sunday, January 25-I call Dad to get his suggestions for making a car. I estimate that, in addition to pinewood derbies he may have participated in as a child, he has done somewhere around 8, between Shane, Danny, and the years he was a scout leader. He gives me some fairly sketchy tips that involve hooking the wheels up to a drill and shaving them down with a knife.

Monday, January 26-I poll the men in my program who have participated in pinewood derbies. One guy described emotional scars associated with the experience, while another shows me a physical scar caused by his brother stabbing him with a pocket knife. I begin to wonder if it is a bad idea to do a pinewood derby, but I remind myself that the people in my branch are, for the most part, adults, who can handle disappointment and won't take this competition too seriously. Later that night, I talk to my dad again, and he tells me that he would be willing to make my car himself (or just shave some wheels down) and send it to me.

Tuesday, January 27-I finally obtain my kit, along with $40 worth of equipment, including the Swiss Army Knife pictured above. 

Tangent about Swiss Army Knives-I used to have one when I was in junior high, and I really liked it. I also remember visiting the store that sold them in the mall, thinking that the ones that had 27 gadgets were really cool. Now I think they probably didn't fit that well in anyone's pocket.

There was a snowstorm in Lubbock, which meant I cancelled my sessions to keep my clients from driving on icy roads. It also meant that I could spend some time working on my car, which, without power tools, meant lots of whittling. Originally, I wanted to make an El Camino, but, after whittling through an episode of Gilmore Girls and two episodes of Scrubs, I decided I'd be happy if it didn't look like a block of wood anymore. I now pause to note that Layne just picked up the remainder of the kits to distribute while I am in Ft. Worth for a therapy conference. On his way out, he said, "I want to make an El Camino." Now, I'm trying to remember if I gave him the idea, or if we just think that much alike.

Here was how my car looked after a day.

Wednesday-I went to Ft. Worth. I was there Thursday, Friday, and Saturday and did not work on my car at all until...

Sunday, February 1-Mostly, I just worked on making it flat.

Monday, February 2-More flattening. There are two schools of thought on a pinewood derby car I am discovering. There are the people who want their car to look good, and the people who want to win. A good-looking car is usually not an aerodynamic car, and a winning car is usually not very stylish. I won't lie-I want to win. My strategy is as follows:

• Make the car as flat as possible.


• Attach weights to the bottom.


• Shave the wheels if there is time.

The Dave Oka School of Pinewood Derbies offers these additional suggestions (which, according to the box are all legal) that I was unable to try:

• Putty over the original grooves cut for the axles in the back and cut new ones closer to the bumper.


• Attach the wheel to a drill chuck and, while it rotates on the drill, shave it carefully and precisely with a pocket knife, creating a narrower surface area for the wheel to contact the track. Hang onto these wheels for future pinewood derbies with younger sons.


• Drill holes in the bottom of the car, (one inch from the back axles) and fill the holes with melted lead from fishing sinkers.

Tuesday, February 3-I went to the store to purchase weights and paint for my car. I discovered that there is a market niche for pinewood derby extras. They had pre-cut car bodies (none in the shape of an El Camino, but stylish nonetheless), special wheels (illegal according to the box), axles, decals, lift kits, and several kinds of weights. I bought the kind you screw onto the underside of the car. I also purchased black spray paint, and some glow-in-the-dark paint for the body.

Wednesday, February 4-I flew to Washington D.C. and did not return until...

Sunday, February 8-By this time, I was really tired. I'd spent 3 days in trainings that were emotionally exhausting, only to get up at 5:00 that morning to get to the airport so that I could make it back to Lubbock in time to speak in church. When I got home that night, I spent a little bit of time sanding it with a fine sandpaper, and then I sprayed it black on my front porch and dragged it inside to protect it from the elements.

Monday, February 9-RACE DAY!!! I gave the car a quick coat of glow-in-the-dark paint in the morning before I went to class. Sadly, because of how busy I was that day, and because I was in charge of the event and had to get some things together, and because I was also entering chili, I pretty much had to leave my car at that.

As for the chili, I wanted to enter something, not because I think I make great chili (this was actually my first attempt), but because, again, I was in charge of the event, and I was concerned no one else would make any. So I used a recipe I found in the Essential Mormon Celebrations cookbook, which called for, among other things, a can of chili. Yes, that's right-the recipe for chili calls for a can of chili. Does anybody else think this sounds suspiciously like whittling a toy boat out of a bigger toy boat? I complained about this to Melanee, who gave me the idea to use this recipe and she said, "It's not going to win anything. It's just a decent recipe." And it is. If you are a mom who needs to make dinner for your family, the prep time on this recipe is about 10 minutes, and then you let everything simmer for an hour. Perfect for me, since I had to shower and dry my hair.

Layne and I divided the events. He took the derby, while I took the cookoff, which meant I had to delegate some of the finishing touches on my car: Ryan set the wheels for me; Layne attached the weights; and Karli made sure it raced when it was supposed to.

The chili contest was finished long before the race. Layne divided the cars up into brackets, March Madness-style for those in the regulation and non-regulation categories, and the cars raced while our two judges sampled chili and made pronouncements. There were eight entries, from one with sausage and brisket to Stephanie's hobo chili. I am embarrassed to say that my recipe won. I thought it would be funny to snap a picture of the tiny plastic trophy displayed prominently in my apartment, but I ended up giving it to the two-year-old grandson of the judges, who had cast the deciding vote in my favor.

A few months ago, the Normal Mormon Husband blogged about how he hates those sports movies where the girl triumphs over the boys because he does not feel they are realistic. He then goes on to tell about how his wife's fantasy football team was beating his and all of the rest of his buddies' teams, despite the fact that she did not use any sophisticated system to pick her team the way they did.

I had a similar victory. Before I even realized it, my car had won the first, second, and third rounds, in spite of a track that was definitely biased toward one lane. And then, just like that, my car had won the regulation category. Its next test was a face-off against the winner of the non-regulation category, a car shaped like a high-heeled shoe that Ashley, its designer called "Heel on Wheels." WINNER! Of course, the victory wasn't really complete until Layne raced it alongside his El Camino (which, due to an odd number of cars, he had withheld from the competition). That race wasn't even close. A solid victory! The funny part about it is that, despite the fact that I was making sure everyone had bowls for chili (we ran out and I ended up "borrowing" a few from another ward) I was still paying more attention to the race than Karli was, and, like my father before me, I found myself prodding her to make sure the car got raced. Ahh.

The sad thing about the whole experience is that I sent the car home with Karli, and I forgot to get pictures of it. So just picture a crudely whittled skateboard about the size of a Twinkie, covered in glossy black paint and a thin layer of something that vaguely glows. In the meantime, here is a shot of Stephanie with her car, which has the word BLING spelled out in rhinestones.

And a shot of it next to Layne's El Camino. Both cars were carved by Layne. Both cars seem to accurately describe the personalities of their owners. Layne's last name is actually painted across his back window.

And, last of all, here is a shot of me in my pioneer/camouflage skirt with what is left of my award-winning chili:

I think it's going to be an annual event. Hopefully, I won't be involved in the planning of it next year. I may have to get my car back from Karli.