With the roar of the crowd, a drag race in miniature is set in motion.
This is pinewood derby season.
Just as spring ushers in the boys of summer, the waning days of winter bring with them the anticipation of a monumental day in young boys' lives.
The pinewood derby race is a contest designed to bring together sons with their fathers through the creation of small racing cars.
Together they compete for speed and creativity in a program organized by Cub Scouts packs and staged in church gyms and service club lodges across the country.
Drive through most neighborhoods and you'll see the sliver of a shop light shining from beneath a garage door. It's the first clue that inside is a cold cement floor littered with pine shavings, scraps of sandpaper and the stray lids of spray paint cans.
The 7-inch cars all begin the same - as a solid block of pine, four nails and four black molded plastic wheels handed to an 8-year-old boy in an after-school Cub Scout meeting.
The month that follows will see this rough hewn wood take the shape of whatever vision a boy can scrawl onto a piece of notebook paper.
Some become sleek racers with sharp decals over bright paint. Others go weird. There are hotdogs, cell phones, sharks and anything else that flows from the brain of a kid.
The goal? Travel down a sloped track and cross the finish line first.
Sounds simple right?
Google pinewood derby and find out.
You'll see dozens of manuals on how to build a winning derby car. You'll find tools for honing the axles and shaving the wheels. You can buy a pre-made car, "A proven winner," on E-bay that sells for more than $100.
There are test tracks and timers, lead weights, spin-balanced wheels, friction reducing paint, and what once was the secret weapon of only dads in the know: graphite.
Graphite is a powdered lubricant normally sold in key shops and hardware stores to keep moving parts moving.
To a father of an 8-year-old, graphite holds the same magical qualities as duct tape, WD40 or needle-nose pliers.
A kid with a squirt of graphic on his wheels is akin to the kid in Little League who shows up with a batting glove. It is the Big Bertha in a dad's golf bag.
It is the powder of the pinewood derby gods, and it turns hunks of wood into lightning.
During the next month, hundreds of boys around the Treasure Valley will gather for a race of the best cars in the area.
All will have won their respective qualifying races, bringing the top three speedsters from each Cub Scout pack to compete.
Most will have scraped knuckles or blisters from rubbing against 60-grit sandpaper for hours. And many will have bandages and paint under their fingernails.
A few will walk away with polished plastic trophies recognizing their creations.
All will walk away with a small wooden car with nails four axles and black molded wheels that they made with a few hand tools under a fluorescent shop light in a cold garage with their dad.
David Kennard, Idaho Statesman online/breaking news writer, is a Meridian father of three sons. His youngest will race in his final pinewood derby race this spring. Contact him at dkennard@idahostatesman.com or 377-6436.
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