There’s a certain kind of magic that happens at a racetrack. It’s not just the roar of engines, the smell of burnt rubber, or the adrenaline-pumping passes down the strip. It’s the people. It’s the memories. It’s the moments that shape us. And in too many towns across America, that magic is being silenced.
For years now, dragstrips and racetracks — venues that were there first — have faced an uphill battle. Developers move in. Homes get built closer. And suddenly, the track that stood for decades becomes “a nuisance.” Noise complaints, lawsuits, and pressure mount until the track’s owners are left with no choice but to shut it down.
But a new day is dawning in Iowa.
HF 645
was recently signed into law, and it’s a massive win for our racing community. This bill protects racetracks from frivolous nuisance lawsuits brought by people who chose to move near a functioning track. It says, clearly and boldly: If the track was here before you, you don’t get to shut it down.
Let that sink in.
HF 645 is more than just legislation. It’s hope. It’s a safeguard for the next generation of gearheads, dreamers, and families who build their lives around Friday night lights and weekend passes. It’sa recognition that racetracks are not just noise — they are heritage.
Because let’s be honest: When a track shuts down, it doesn’t just go dark. It breaks hearts. It ends traditions. It robs a town of its character. Saying goodbye to a track is like losing a friend you’ll never see again — one that taught you discipline, camaraderie, and how to win and lose with grace. Tracks are where fathers teach sons how to turn a wrench, where lifelong friendships are born in the pits, and where memories stick to the bleachers like rubber to asphalt.
Some of the best people I’ve ever met — people who became family — I met at the racetrack. But what if my local strip had closed before I ever got that chance? What if the lawsuits had won?
That’s why HF 645 matters.
Beyond the emotion, there’s a practical reality. Shutting down racetracks doesn’t eliminate racing — it relocates it. To the streets. When you take away a safe, sanctioned outlet for speed and passion, you force it underground. And that’s when things get dangerous. Tracks don’t just prevent crime — they channel energy, competition, and pride into something productive.
Our racetracks are rooted in American soil, steeped in grit and horsepower. They shaped who we are — and who we’re becoming. HF 645 is a recognition of that. It’s a promise to protect our past and our future.
So if you’re a racer, a fan, or just someone who knows whatit’s like to lose a piece of your soul when a track shutters, take a moment and appreciate what just happened in Iowa. Let it serve as a model for other states. Let it be the beginning of a comeback story for racetracks nationwide.
Because once a track is gone, it’s not just the race you lose — it’s the community. It’s the legacy.
And thanks to HF 645, we just got a second chance to hold on to both.
