Gordaen's Blog

Those who know me know that I have about six million hobbies (one of which is counting how many hobbies I have), but my dad tends to focus a lot more on a more distinct set of hobbies. One of the ones he puts a lot of time (and money) into is karting (i.e., go-karts). He has become quite proficient with fiberglass, having made a custom body on more than one occasion. Though he’s currently working on his kart to make it race-ready, he still likes to support all his friends who race. My brother and I rode along with my dad to Pacific Raceways on March 28th.

The day was rainy, but I wandered around, looking at the various karts people were prepping for the day. I also took a look at the four Lotuses that were calling out to me.

I also came across the place to buy racing fuel.

Eventually, I grabbed a set of flags and a radio and headed out to be a flagger at corner ten. Normally, this would be a simple corner for flagging; just listen on the radio for any full-course flags because the small kink that they call corner ten rarely sees any accidents. But it was raining and getting worse.

Puddles started to form and standing water became a problem. The first race went by with every single driver twitching a bit through my corner. One of them even did a full 90-degree turn one way, then the other, repeating more times that I would have thought possible, but he straightened it out and kept going. The first race ended without any major accidents, but many drivers slid off the course at other corners. We took a break for lunch and then the second race started. The karts were all lay-downs, so they had a much longer wheel base, giving them more stability. Though more drivers went off course than finished, there were no big accidents. Then the rain started to really come down.

The slipping and sliding was worse than in the first race. There were several times where I had the yellow flag in my hand, waiting to wave it over the barrier, but the drivers just barely kept the karts under control. Not long into the race, I saw the craziest accident I have ever witnessed in person.

Coming through the kink, a driver hit some standing water and spun. I had been at the ready, so I immediately called it in and was waving the yellow flag. He spun 180 degrees and his right rear wheel slammed into the wall hard. It broke his axle and the kart continued its spin, simultaneously coming off the ground. The driver flew out of the kart, hitting his head (helmet) on the ground and skidding toward me. This all happened so fast that I was still on the radio. I found myself saying “Bad, bad accident.” We red-flagged (stopped) the race, and the paramedics checked on the driver who was still on the ground on his back.

The paramedics carefully put him on the stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance, and the track was eerily silent other than the menacing sound of rain. I helped get the kart off the track and took a closer look.

The axle, bumper, and other parts were broken. Trucks came around the track to tow back the other karts that had spun and the track remained silent for quite some time. The rain seemed to let up some, but the drivers of the race all agreed that they would just end it there and continue on with the fourth race of the day. Fortunately, in the time that it took to clear the track and get the next group of racers ready, some of the standing water had drained off. The fourth race went as well as could be expected, but the rain picked up.

Each of the flaggers called over the radio, talking about the lakes and rivers that now made up the track. My corner was not looking quite as bad as it had during the third race, but the rain continued to pound down, and track conditions worsened.

The call was made to begin the fifth race, which was set off at a rolling start. The karts all did one lap around the track under yellow flag, which was set up in advance because of the kart classes, but it gave the drivers a chance to see the conditions on the track. When they got the green flag, the radio became a constant buzz of flaggers calling in spinning karts and karts off the track at nearly every corner. Corner ten was getting worse, evident by the twisting and twitching of the karts that flew through. A driver spun but was okay and got his kart out of the way quickly. Another driver wasn’t as lucky.

His kart spun, making contact with the barrier I was standing behind. The nose of his kart scraped along the wall before the kart slide into the middle of the track. I waved the yellow flag vigorously, reaching as far over the barrier as I could. A big group of karts was coming up on the corner, but they saw my flag, slowed down, and each put a hand up to ensure everyone slowed way down. I kept waving the flag and snuck a peek over my shoulder to see that the driver who had had the accident was out of his kart and making it over the barrier. I had to continue waving the flag as more karts were coming down the straight. I didn’t know if they’d be able to see the kart in the middle of the track just after the kink, so my first concern was making sure they all slowed down and no one hit it.

After some more karts went by, I was able to check on the driver who had made it over the barrier. I kept waving the flag as I made my way over to him, and I asked him if he needed medical attention. His answer came slowly, “I don’t know.” I got back on the radio, reporting that I had checked in with him, and I recommended that he get checked out by the paramedics. Once again, our red flags came out, and the final race of the day was stopped.

Fortunately, I found out the next day that both drivers were okay and were released from the hospital the night of the race.

A photographer was at the race, taking many shots; quite a few were looking down the straight, so I was in quite a few as a few black pixels, waving some yellow pixels.

And that’s what a day at the track is like.