The gladiators of speedway
Huntly speedway unites generations of drivers and fans in the quest for dirt spraying glory. Jo Lines-MacKenzie reports.
It’s a 400m terracotta clay oval of champions. But not everyone can be the winner. Like combatants in an automotive Colosseum, the gladiators at Huntly International Speedway will see both tears and fears, along with plenty of cheers before the end of the night.
On a sunny Saturday afternoon fans line up an hour before gates open at the stock car track as it hosts hosts the Waikato Championships, the third meeting of the season.
President Red Wootton is a hard man to pin down, he’s passionate about the speedway and he’s been preparing for this meeting since Wednesday night.
He’s assigned fellow long time committee member Allan Powell as our guide.
The 66-year-old has been part of the club since 1996and has has seen the ground develop over the years. On a good night the amphitheatre carved into the green hills of the North Waikato can hold about 6500 spectators and fill three car parks.
Behind the two large safety fences spectators are setting up for the night, having chosen their favourite seat in the house.
Chilly bins and blankets provide the comforts of home.
Their air horns and cow bells lay dormant for the time being, they will be well-used once the cars get the green light.
A group of kids play with matchbox cars in the gravel pathway as parents catch up with friends and stroll to the hotdog stand.
Down on pit lane, crews surround their various trailers, and the stock cars are slowly heading to the weighbridge, making sure they tally between 1400 and1500kg, including the driver.
Justin Hutchby, aka Hutch, is tinkering with his stock car – number 88H.
A soft toy dog is stuck in the windscreen grill.
“My nephew gave it to me and asked if it could be in the car. If I don’t have it I usually don’t have a good run,” explains Hutchby.
It’s been around 20 years behind the wheel at Huntly speedway for Hutchby. But he caught the speedway bug even before then.
“I was about the age of four years old, the old man dragged one [stock car] home when we used to live in Tu¯ rangi and I fell in love with them.
And when he could afford it a stock car was bought when he lived in Whitianga.
The garage door installer now lives in Hamilton and loves the comradeship with the other drivers. But racing has other therapeutic advantages.
“The release,” he says with a chuckle. “I get to drive around town frustrated at other people. Then I hop in this [stockcar] and bump into them and say get out of my way.”
“I just love it, it’s an adrenaline rush, some people do drugs, I do speedway.”
How does Hutchby feel about the quality of the track?
“It’s good, Red is one of the best guys in the country doing the track, which is one of the main reasons I come here because week in week out it gets a nice surface to race on.”
The 48-year-old is part of a new initiative this year at the track in which stock car drivers have been paired up with the ministock drivers, boys and girls aged between 12 and 17.
They are parked next to each other in the pits.
“It means we can help them out and try to encourage them along and help them further their careers. It is good – you see the kids’ eyes light up when you are teaching them and that makes it worth it.”
It’s certainly not a sport that is easy on the bank account, meaning that Hutchby has downsized his racing calendar from around 30 meetings a season to 20.
“When I first started racing, my race car, trailer and towing vehicle owed me $8000, now I am about $80,000. So it’s gone up substantially. The fuel costs just to get from A to B .....
“But we love it, so we make it happen.”
His car is one he built himself from a pile of steel on the ground,
“I get to drive around town frustrated at other people. Then I hop in this [stockcar] and bump into them and say get out of my way. I just love it, it’s an adrenaline rush, some people do drugs, I do speedway.”
Justin Hutchby, aka Hutch
it’s the second time he’s done that. But it may be his last.
‘‘I keep telling my wife this is the last year, and it’s about the eighth year of doing that. I will advertise it this year and if it sells then that’s it – I am done .... well maybe.’’
But Hutchby still has a dream of moving up a class to the super stocks.
‘‘I would like to own a super stock one day, that little yellow ticket the lottery commission keeps selling doesn’t seem to come my way.’’
The family connection continues with Hutchby’s wife Annette as clerk of the course.
Dressed in pink high-vis and sporting earmuffs and a clipboard in hand, she’s about to head out to centre of the track.
What lights are showing indicates who has the final say over the 1500kg track monsters.
‘‘Under a red or orange light I am under control out there,’’ explains Annette. And then I hand over to the referees and when they are happy they go green.
‘‘Then I do what they tell me to do under a green light. Any incidents that happen out there it’s under my direction when the lights change to red or orange.’’
It’s no surprise Tyson Wootton is in a driver’s seat.
The son of president Red, the 30-year-old was born into the sport.
Huntly is a special track for the local man, especially with his dad being the club president.
‘‘I have been coming here since I was a baby so it’s pretty special to me. My old man still runs the place so it’s pretty cool. And my nephews race mini stocks so it’s part of the blood really.’’
What does he love about racing? ‘‘Not a lot,’’ he jokes. ‘‘Nah it’s good fun but it’s pretty hard on the body and the wallet.
‘‘It’s a hard one to kick, we’ve been doing it long enough now, so what is a few more years.’’
Tyson has competed in the Super stock category for the past four years, driving a Nissan VK56, he’s well aware of the consequences of a high risk sport.
‘‘I’ve broken quite a few bones in my early days of stock car racing but touch wood we are going okay these days. It is very physical and hard on the bodies but that is part of the game really.’’
Looking pretty relaxed by his production saloon while waiting for race time is 72-year-old Dave Pilkington.
The Hamilton man has been in the sport since the 1970s.
He started in Upper Hutt before taking time out to raise a family. But the pull of the speedway was too strong, and he’s been back on track for the past 16 years.
He races a blue and white production saloon, a 1997 Ford Telstar.
‘‘It’s just a normal road car with everything stripped out, most of them have a roll cage put in there to protect you. So if you hit the wall your car will just bend, it wrecks it if you hit it hard enough,’’ Pilkington said.
The Telstar has served him four years now, his previous car lasted two seasons.
‘‘I’ve had serious crashes but no injuries.’’
Despite being a veteran Pilkington still has a few nerves, but he’s unlikely to stop racing until his licence is taken off him.
He enjoys the camaraderie, which resonates with all the competitors and committee members.
‘‘You’ve got young guys and girls racing here, the more the merrier and it’s a good experience for the younger people to get behind the wheel, and throw the car around a bit and see what they do,’’ says Pilkington.
One of those young ones who will be testing Pilkington is Xavier Martin. The seventeen-year-old is in his first season with production saloons.
The Te Kowhai apprentice diesel mechanic entered the sport after encouragement from his friends.
He drove ministocks for three years, but is now enjoying his bright blue BA Ford Falcon.
‘‘This car is something different, not too many of them around. We built it ourselves, it took about three months for me and some of my engineer friends and dad.’’
Another young up and comer and one of the few females is Kendyll Ashton.
The 21-year-old Hamiltonian shares a super stock car with her dad.
‘‘I just get in every now and again. I started last season and I probably did about eight meetings and I’ve done a couple this season so far,’’ Ashton says.
She is another who has speedway in her blood.
‘‘I went to my first meeting at two and a half weeks old and ever since I’ve been hooked.’’
Having driven ministocks until 17, she would like more females to follow in her tracks. They’re just as capable as men.
‘‘There’s a couple around the North Island but not very often you get out there with another girl on the track.
‘‘Lots of girls race ministocks, but they tend to not go anywhere.’’
A dislocated shoulder last season is proof of the physicality of the sport for Ashton.
‘‘Super stock is a full contact class, knowing that if you drive around the outside of someone they can easily take you out and hit you. It’s quite scary but it makes the sport what it is.’’
At 6pm a drivers briefing is held with safety reminders and protocols reiterated.
It’s only after that that Red Wootton has a free moment.
‘‘I started off years ago with the club in Forest Lake [in Hamilton].’’
The Huntly local remembers when the Hamilton City Council ended the speedway at Minogue Park in 1979.
‘‘We were 10 years without a track, so we contracted to the Mount and Rotorua, and we built up amazing friendships with those clubs.’’
It will be Wootton’s 40th year with the club next year and in that time he’s been a driver, promoter, team person – a bit of everything really.
And he’s proud of what the club has been able to accomplish.
‘‘We have 54 acres here and it takes a lot of upkeep. We made some good decisions when we were a young club and the people before me made the right decisions, and we have just grown from there.
‘‘We have some major championships coming up next year.’’
Wootton said the race meetings bring around 60,000 people into Huntly a season.
‘‘Now the motorway has gone they can get into the shops. The service stations and the eateries all get used.
‘‘We employ the local Lions club for car parking, picking up our rubbish, we have a lot of people who work for us out of the community as well, so our money is going back into the community all the time.’’
Safety is a huge priority for the club with Wootton obviously wanting to get the drivers, and the spectators home safely.
‘‘The governing body has lots of rules put in place now, it’s like a work environment now. My role is to make sure that anybody who comes here we make the environment as safe as we can for them.’’
It’s improved in leaps and bounds from when Wootton was driving.
‘‘In my day we used to have 44 gallon buckets for the seats, and we used to line them with rubber, now you go and buy a $4000 to $6000 seat.
‘‘But back in the day we went to the wreckers to buy parts, you didn’t go and buy them off the shelves like you do today, that is the biggest difference.’’
The implications of the sport were highlighted in 2012 when Rotorua man Ray Channing, 52, died after a crash on the track.
‘‘There have been [serious crashes] and it’s tragic, but it’s no different from playing rugby or soccer or any of those games, it can happen out on the paddock and touch wood it doesn’t happen here too often.’’
Wootton understands everybody is competing for the entertainment dollar these days.
‘‘It’s giving them value for all the money they pay.
‘‘You know 50 bucks out of any family now is a lot of money. You go to the pictures and you try to get $50 to go through a family of four. It won’t happen, but you can come here and spend $50 to $80 and you can get a feed, a hot dog or whatever, and you can go home entertained.’’
It’s time for Wootton to get back in the water truck ensuring that terracotta clay stays put so spectators can see the cars and not dust.
The racing begins at 7pm, the noise forces the ear plugs in or ear muffs on.
Dirt and sparks fly as camaraderie is put to one side for a couple of minutes.
Spectators watch enthralled and munch hot dogs as kids roll down the grassy embankment as the car tussle it out.
For the winners there’s the chance to bask in the phone torchlights waved by fans in congratulations and do a victory lap with the chequered flag streaming.
For the not so lucky, there’s always next time on the clay arena.
‘‘I went to my first meeting at two and a half weeks old and ever since I’ve been hooked.’’
Kendyll Ashton