This is special to me as this is close to where I live. Around an hour drive or so. Many folks feel NASCAR's continued westward expansion and focus on marketing will soon mark its demise. They say that taking events from traditional venues in favor of larger markets will alienate core fans, and when the luster wears off for the newbies, NASCAR will be left wondering where it all went wrong. I remember races at the rock. Some sitting all afternoon freezing my ass off and many Wednesday afternoon pole races. I've seen Terry Labonte and Kyle Petty both dominate the 500 mile races. I will always long for another race at the rock, but it won't happen.
Last Lap: Remembering The Rock
By Marty Smith, Turner Sports Interactive May 18, 2004
3:01 PM EDT (1901 GMT)
My fondest memory of North Carolina Speedway wasn't made on a Sunday afternoon, rather an overcast fall Tuesday a couple years back.
I awoke that day to an email from North Carolina Speedway public relations director Kristi King, asking if I'd be interested in attending the Winner's Circle appearance she was hosting later that day.
Marty Smith
The guest of honor was Dale Earnhardt Jr., but (miraculously) few folks, aside from a handful of local media, had RSVP'd. I wasn't particularly busy that day, and it was an opportunity to pick Junior's brain when he wasn't preoccupied with having to be somewhere else in five minutes.
I'm there.
When I arrived at the track, I heard the ebb and flow of simulated acceleration, as if an engine was being revved. Makes sense. I was at a racetrack, after all. But King hadn't said anything about folks testing there that day, so I was slightly stymied.
As I moseyed through the infield tunnel, there were no cars on the track, no transporters on the premises. There was, however, what appeared to be a show car trailer. Slightly tardym, I didn't investigate. Instead, I sprinted inside the media center to find Junior conversing with small group of locals.
He was in a good mood. The interview was sterling, as he answered all queries about the controversial topic du jour with standard candor. After several minutes, he was whisked outside for a television sit-down in front of a Busch Series-themed show car.
Assuming he was done for the day, I bid King a fair adieu, thanked her again from the heads-up and began to make my way to the door. Puzzled, she stopped me.
"Marty, aren't you going to ride?"
"Ride?"
Marty Smith • Email • Archive
"Yeah, Junior's doing ride-alongs after this TV shot."
Uh, yes. I think I'll stay, thank you.
Several folks went before me, and it was obvious Junior was winding the car up pretty well -- especially considering its bare-bones engine. Outfitted in a royal blue and white fire suit seemingly tailor-made for Danny Devito, I was summoned to the passenger seat.
A total rookie, I could hardly even get in the seat properly. Junior grabbed the left seatbelt and held it while the show car driver tended to my right side. Junior's helmet visor was down. I couldn't see his face. But once I was strapped in and gave the thumbs up, he flipped it up.
His mouth was not visible, but the smile marks around his eyes told me all I needed to know: Hold on, I'm going to scare the ever-living crap out of you.
By the end of pit road we had to be going 100. I anticipated he'd gradually slow down as we turned left to exit pit lane, but he failed to see the reasoning for such strategy. We entered the racing surface in Turn 2, and by the time we got to Turn 4 I was dizzy.
I was smiling involuntarily. There was nothing I could do about it even when I tried. Our first full lap was exhilarating. His car control amazed me, gave me an entirely new perspective on what these guys do, and a heightened respect for the talent they have.
We couldn't have been three inches off the outside wall. By design, I'm certain.
At the exit of Turn 4 the wall juts out, and as we sped through the corner on my fourth and final lap, the rear end became slightly unstable. We'd nearly tagged the fence. I'd nearly soiled my britches.
He'd succeeded in terrifying me.
Marty takes a spin at Rockingham with Dale Jr. Credit: NASCAR Scene
And just to make certain he was aware of how much I appreciated it, I composed myself, then informed him he was No. 1 all the way down the back straightaway. We howled in laughter.
I'll never forget that, and still chuckle at the thought of it every time I go back. It's a shame I'll never get that opportunity again.
There will never be another Winner's Circle appearance at Rockingham, but for me that memory will live on forever.
Last Lap: Remembering The Rock
By Marty Smith, Turner Sports Interactive May 18, 2004
3:01 PM EDT (1901 GMT)
window.onerror=function(){clickURL=document.location.href;return true;} if(!self.clickURL) clickURL=parent.location.href; 
My fondest memory of North Carolina Speedway wasn't made on a Sunday afternoon, rather an overcast fall Tuesday a couple years back.
I awoke that day to an email from North Carolina Speedway public relations director Kristi King, asking if I'd be interested in attending the Winner's Circle appearance she was hosting later that day.
The guest of honor was Dale Earnhardt Jr., but (miraculously) few folks, aside from a handful of local media, had RSVP'd. I wasn't particularly busy that day, and it was an opportunity to pick Junior's brain when he wasn't preoccupied with having to be somewhere else in five minutes.
I'm there.
When I arrived at the track, I heard the ebb and flow of simulated acceleration, as if an engine was being revved. Makes sense. I was at a racetrack, after all. But King hadn't said anything about folks testing there that day, so I was slightly stymied.
As I moseyed through the infield tunnel, there were no cars on the track, no transporters on the premises. There was, however, what appeared to be a show car trailer. Slightly tardym, I didn't investigate. Instead, I sprinted inside the media center to find Junior conversing with small group of locals.
He was in a good mood. The interview was sterling, as he answered all queries about the controversial topic du jour with standard candor. After several minutes, he was whisked outside for a television sit-down in front of a Busch Series-themed show car.
Assuming he was done for the day, I bid King a fair adieu, thanked her again from the heads-up and began to make my way to the door. Puzzled, she stopped me.
"Marty, aren't you going to ride?"
"Ride?"
"Yeah, Junior's doing ride-alongs after this TV shot."
Uh, yes. I think I'll stay, thank you.
Several folks went before me, and it was obvious Junior was winding the car up pretty well -- especially considering its bare-bones engine. Outfitted in a royal blue and white fire suit seemingly tailor-made for Danny Devito, I was summoned to the passenger seat.
A total rookie, I could hardly even get in the seat properly. Junior grabbed the left seatbelt and held it while the show car driver tended to my right side. Junior's helmet visor was down. I couldn't see his face. But once I was strapped in and gave the thumbs up, he flipped it up.
His mouth was not visible, but the smile marks around his eyes told me all I needed to know: Hold on, I'm going to scare the ever-living crap out of you.
By the end of pit road we had to be going 100. I anticipated he'd gradually slow down as we turned left to exit pit lane, but he failed to see the reasoning for such strategy. We entered the racing surface in Turn 2, and by the time we got to Turn 4 I was dizzy.
I was smiling involuntarily. There was nothing I could do about it even when I tried. Our first full lap was exhilarating. His car control amazed me, gave me an entirely new perspective on what these guys do, and a heightened respect for the talent they have.
We couldn't have been three inches off the outside wall. By design, I'm certain.
At the exit of Turn 4 the wall juts out, and as we sped through the corner on my fourth and final lap, the rear end became slightly unstable. We'd nearly tagged the fence. I'd nearly soiled my britches.
He'd succeeded in terrifying me.
And just to make certain he was aware of how much I appreciated it, I composed myself, then informed him he was No. 1 all the way down the back straightaway. We howled in laughter.
I'll never forget that, and still chuckle at the thought of it every time I go back. It's a shame I'll never get that opportunity again.
There will never be another Winner's Circle appearance at Rockingham, but for me that memory will live on forever.
