Pinewood Derby

He was a five-year-old first-year Cub Scout, and today was the day of the Pinewood Derby. Pretty exciting. He and his Dad had built his car from the seven-inch long pine block that came in the mail from the Scout shop. Just a plain piece of wood with a couple of grooves cut for the axles. They had sawed, shaved, and sanded it into a beauty, painted red and black with lightning decals on the sides. He named her Red Lightning, and she was the most beautiful thing he thought he had ever seen.

His Dad knew a few things about cars and a little bit about physics. They had added some graphite to the wheels for lubrication. Cut out all possible friction, his Dad had said. And then, maybe most importantly, taped quarters and nickels to the car to add weight. He never would have figured that heavy cars go faster than light cars. But they did and again, that was science.

The race was held that evening in Fellowship Hall, in the back of the church. There were hot dogs and pizza, his favorite foods, and plenty of cookies to get all the kids juiced up for the festivities. They weighed Red Lightning when he arrived and she weighed almost right at the maximum allowed weight. Not even room for one more taped penny. She was ready to race.

The kid lived in a small town, which meant their scout pack was small, only sixteen scouts total. All the scouts raced each other, no matter what their ages. One of the big kids had won the Derby three years in a row and now he was ten, his last year as a cub scout. He was defending his title and seemed pretty confident to the little kid. In the history of their small town Derby, no five-year-old had ever won.

The track was thirty-two feet long and sloped down from four feet high at the top to the floor. He wasn’t four feet tall so there was a step to stand on. Gently he eased Red Lightning onto the starting gate, alongside another scout’s blue car, and then they were off. Any doubts about Red Lightning’s speed were quickly put to rest, as she won by ten feet. He almost felt sorry for the other kid.

Race after race Red Lightning kept winning, a couple almost too close to call, but still wins. There was a lot of anticipation as he lined up for the final race against the ten-year-old defending champion.

He climbed up on the step again, put Red Lightning in the start gate, and then they were off, down the track. Everyone was lined up to watch, cheering their favorite. It was close, back and forth, but would you believe Red Lightning won, by a car length. You could see in the big kid’s face that he wasn’t used to losing. And the little kid could hardly believe he was the new champion. His friends were more excited than he was, jumping up and down, high fiving, and slapping him on the back.

But the smile on his Dad’s face was the best part. They had done this together, built a championship car. His Dad walked over, handed him a cookie, and picked him up in a bear hug, hung on tightly. Normally he would have been embarrassed, with all his friends standing around. But not this time. Instead, he hugged him back, just as hard.