Dispatch from the Pinewood Derby

There’s a feeling of excitement in the air. Pit crews are standing by and crowds hold their breath as the flag drops and the wheels hit the track. If you breathe deeply, you can catch just a hint of…graphite.

The Pinewood Derby is in town.

For the uninitiated, The Pinewood Derby is an annual event for boys in Cub Scouts. Tiger Cubs up to Webelos receive a kit containing a block of wood and some wheels and must design, carve and paint their vehicle into whatever shape they desire. Google “Pinewood Derby” and you can find a treasure trove of images of vehicles from past years. The Derby also has very specific rules about size, shape and weight of the car. No springs can be added, and the wheels and axle provided in the kit must be used.

Typically the kits are passed out to the scouts several weeks before “Race Day”. This gives the kids ample time to dawdle, tarry and procrastinate, ultimately rushing to finish their car mere hours before the start of the first heat. At least, that’s how it goes in my house.

On race day, the entrants bring their cars to the race location for the official weighing. Pity the poor scout whose car is over the 5 oz mark. At this point, fathers frantically pop off any additional lead weights that have been added to the car, or drill holes in the vehicle to remove unwanted ballast. The race itself lasts for approximately 6-8 hours (ok, that’s not quite accurate, it just feels that long). All the cars are given a chance to race in all four lanes so that everyone’s car has fair advantage. As the day winds down, the winners from each heat face each other until there are just a select few who take home the much coveted trophies. Everyone else goes home with a snazzy medal.

A great part of the Pinewood Derby is that the children are supposed to do most of the work themselves with minimal parental assistance. However, much like the annual science fair, it’s easy to tell whose projects have had more than a little “help” from an overeager parent. A friend of mine wrote a hilarious blog about The Pinewood Derby last year in which he opined that the young scout with the winning car must have had a father who worked for Boeing, given the aerodynamics on their extremely well-crafted entry.

This year was my son’s third year of racing in the derby. His first year’s car was a pretty basic design. He sawed (with my husband’s help) his block into a triangular shape. He then sanded it and painted it a forest green color, then added a white smiley face with a demonic expression. He christened it Mr. Happy. Though he didn’t do so well in the various heats that year, it was fun to listen to his den mates chanting “Mr. Happy! Mr. Happy!” as it rolled down the track.

Last year he chose an hourglass shape, painted orange with yellow flames. The car had the impressive name “Inferno” and though he came in first and second place in most of his heats, his average was dragged down by the fact that his car flew off the track in one of its runs. Trying to assuage his disappointment, I pointed out that his design was just too fast for the race.

This year’s car was shaped like a drop of water, painted electric green and titled “Acid”. My husband and son headed out to the Derby and I promised to follow in an hour to see his car run. Twenty minutes later my husband bolted back in the door. “What’s wrong?” I asked as he brushed past me and headed straight for the garage. “It’s one tenth of an ounce over!” he wailed as he grabbed his tool kit and drill and raced back out the door.

A short time later, I arrived to find the derby in full swing. With two four-lane tracks running simultaneously, the scout leaders were able to keep the action going as the crowd of scouts and parents cheered from the sidelines. In addition to my son’s car, I noticed some really interesting designs including several that contained Lego decorations (which didn’t always stay on the vehicle), a car that looked just like the DeLorean from “Back to the Future” and what looked to be a mostly unfinished block of wood on wheels.

Sadly, Acid did not fare well this year. It came in third (out of three) in three heats, moving up to second place during its final run. While my son was disappointed that his hard work didn’t yield more favorable results, I hugged him and told him that my most proud moment of the day had nothing to do with his car’s performance. At one point he had noticed some younger scouts were laughing at a car that had gotten stuck not once but twice at the track’s halfway mark. Knowing their laughter might hurt the feelings of the car’s owner, he firmly said, “Don’t laugh at that. It’s not funny.”

So while his automotive designs may not earn him any trophies, his compassion that day definitely made him a winner in my book.