THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, May 12, 1996 TAG: 9605090202
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 30 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JEFF HAMPTON
LENGTH: Medium: 95 lines
GLEN BOYKIN of Elizabeth City works nights and weekends, and he spends all his spare money just to run a homemade drag racer through 200 feet of mud, 2 feet deep.
Boykin is a dedicated, if not wealthy, participant in what began with a bunch of farm boys racing their trucks around in a giant mud hole.
That same activity has become a thriving national sport called mud racing.
The National Mud Racing Association has 1,300 members, with new affiliates forming regularly. The first-ever race of the new Atlantic Mud Racing Association was held at the Jaycee Fairgrounds in Elizabeth City April 27. The second of six races this year is June 1.
``The professionals go to races every weekend all over the country,'' said Atlantic Mud Racing Association founder Kenny Brooks.
Brooks plans to open another mud racing track in Stony Creek, Va., where he now lives. Before this season, Boykin and about 25 others from the region had to travel four to five hours for a race.
At the April races, Boykin, wrapped safely in harnesses, a fire suit and helmet, awaited the thumbs-up to gun his alcohol-fueled engine and attempt to roar his mud-tired dragster across the mud track faster than anybody else.
In his class - called the ``modified DOT'' because the racers would not be allowed on the street - he needed to beat four seconds. In the open class, a step above Boykin's racer, traveling pros shoot for well under three seconds.
Boykin raced the motor, making sure it was warmed to the proper temperature. It was fully as loud as a jet engine. Kids in the crowd of several hundred covered their ears.
Boykin's partner and mechanic, Alan Botelho, waited anxiously. They wanted a trophy after all these weeks of work.
The pair have been mud racing for eight years. They used to win often when they first started. But the sport has advanced to high tech and high costs.
Boykin and Botelho had to progress from a truck to their current mud dragster. It cost them about $10,000 in all. The pros spend $80,000 for their racers. Even in his class, Boykin says he's on a low budget compared to the others.
``You can see what we're up against,'' Boykin said, pointing to a line of racers with engines bulging out of brightly colored front ends. Their owners tinkered and talked while waiting behind the grandstands for the races to begin.
``Originally, it was less expensive than going out and drag racing,'' Botelho said. ``Somebody with a little money could compete and win sometimes. But that all changed. We had to either get out or get bigger.''
``We had so much tied into it, it was easier to keep going than get out,'' Boykin said.
Mud racers fall into five classes, ranging from the hottest trucks that run with engines of 2,500 to 3,000 horsepower, to street-legal four-wheel-drive trucks, which might have only 350 to 400 horsepower. Boykin's racer is in the middle range, with an engine that puts out 600 horsepower.
Boykin named his racer ``Mama's Headache.''
``That's why Theresa is not here,'' Boykin said of his wife before the races began. ``It's a big headache to her.''
The Elizabeth City race featured the national champion of drag racing, Garland Walls, in his racer ``The Gambler.''
The association ``brings all-pro mud racing to Virginia Beach, Elizabeth City and the Outer Banks,'' said Brooks, himself a pro who races somewhere nearly every weekend. ``This is quality like you see on television. They're the fastest guys in the nation.''
Mud racing as a spectator sport began about 30 to 40 years ago in the South, Brooks said. Most of the races are still in the South.
Racers usually go solo through the track, competing against the clock. The trick, Brooks said, is to get on top of the mud with high speed and skim across. Once the tires bog, the engine cannot get the racer out in a few seconds.
Boykin found that out in his race. He shot off the starting line but sank quickly. Rather than blow his engine trying to power his way out, he stopped. A tow truck pulled him out.
He wasn't the only one. Several had the same fate or worse. Some busted parts in the drive train or tore up transmissions.
``Some guys seem like that have good luck all the time,'' Brooks said. ``Some always have bad luck. Some have ups and downs.''
Boykin was disappointed with his showing. But through a mud-spattered helmet, determination set his jaw.
``I'll be back,'' he says. MEMO: For information on mud racing, call Kenny Brooks in Knotts Island, (919)
535-1696.
ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by DREW C. WILSON
Mud racers fall into five classes, ranging from the trucks with
2,500 to 3,000 horsepower engines to street-legal four-wheel-drives
of 350 to 400 horsepower.
by CNB