I feel like I grew up at the racetrack, a home away from home. I still remember my dad saying to others,
“I know where my kids are on Saturday nights — with me.”
That hits a little different now that I have kids of my own.
For many of us, racing started as a passion, a hobby, maybe even a dream. But somewhere along the way, it became something even more meaningful: a family affair.
It’s not just about the passes down the track, the reaction times, or the win lights. It’s about who’s standing next to you in the staging lanes. It’s about the tiny lawn chairs, the cooler full of juice boxes, the smell of grilled hot dogs, and the laughter of cousins racing scooters in the pits. The kids that grow up at the racetrack may not all be blood related, but ask any of them and they will tell you they are related.
Racing has a funny way of becoming a lifestyle. But more importantly, it becomes our family time. The racetrack is our second home — and in many ways, the one where some of our best memories are made.
No Price on It
When I was a kid, I remember my dad saying something I’ll never forget:
“I can’t put a price on racing, because I get to spend weekends with my family.”
That stuck with me. Back then, I thought he was talking about saving money on babysitters. But now I get it. He was talking about building something that lasts far beyond racing cars — he was building bonds.
At the track, It’s just us. Our people. Our tribe. And when you’re deep into a weekend of qualifying rounds, weather delays, and midnight wrench sessions, you quickly learn who’s really got your back — and more often than not, it’s your family.
Holidays at the Track
How many birthdays have been celebrated with cupcakes in the motorhome? How many Fourth of Julys spent lighting up the pits with sparklers after eliminations? How many Thanksgivings with paper plates, crockpots, and drag cars parked just a few feet away? What better way to celebrate halloween than decorating your race trailer at the track. What better easter egg hunt than one at the track after Joe Goddard gives the sermon. 
Ask anyone who’s been in this life long enough, and they’ll tell you:
We’ve spent more holidays at the track than we have at home. And we wouldn’t have it any other way. (besides my father who still likes to complain about us rushing him away from the table on Thanksgiving to head to a junior dragster race)
Because those moments — those sweaty summer weekends, the early morning road trips, the late night stories by the trailer — they’re the glue that keeps us close. They’re the kind of memories that don’t fade. They become our family’s legacy.
The Legacy We Leave Behind
What makes this all even more powerful is that we’re not just living the racing life — we’re passing it on.
Every time our kids pick up a wrench, sit in the seat, or cheer in the stands — they’re learning what this sport is really about. Not just horsepower and speed, but community, commitment, and family.
We teach them how to stage a car, sure. But we also teach them how to stay humble in victory, how to shake hands in defeat, and how to never leave anyone behind in the pits. These lessons — these values — will outlast our ET slips and our time cards.
And one day, when we’re no longer the ones making the passes, our kids will be the ones telling the stories.
About the late nights.
The long hauls.
The wins.
The heartbreaks.
The laughs.
And they’ll remember who was standing beside them through it all.
To Our Families: Thank You
So this article is for the moms who packed the gear bags, the dads who drove all night, the spouses who cheer no matter the result, and the kids who grow up thinking everyone spends their weekends like this.
Thank you.
Thank you for the support, the sacrifices, the patience, and the unconditional love.
Thank you for giving up your time so we could chase something we love.
Thank you for standing next to us, whether we’re celebrating a win or loading up after a loss.
You are the heart of this sport.
To our families — by blood or by bond — just know this:
Every pass down the track, every trophy, every memory — we carry you with us.
And when we’re long gone, we hope our kids will carry those memories too.
Because the greatest legacy we leave behind won’t be the cars.
It’ll be the love of the sport — and the love of each other.
See y’all at the next race.
