Rookie drag racer gets last laugh in a funny car -- Initial fears give way to an impressive pace

Quick response the key when race is on the line

NIKA ROLCZEWSKI SPECIAL TO THE STAR

Asked if I wanted to drive a funny car, I automatically thought, "Cool - a Fiat 500, a BMW Isetta, or an East German Trabant?" But when I was told it would actually be a methanol-burning funny car - the kind that hurls down a drag strip faster than I can say, "Are you crazy?" - I had to think about it. A car like that is no laughing matter.

In fact, the 1979 Plymouth Arrow I was to drive even has intimidating specs. Its engine is a 1975 440 cu.-in. Chrysler with Indy Aluminum cylinder heads that produces 700 horsepower. The Arrow weighs in at around 771 kg - less than an old-style Mazda Miata.

George Monahan, the owner, purchased the car in 1993 at a swap meet, much to the angst of his better half. He bought the chassis new in 1995 and, after six years of work and parts accumulation, finally finished the racer.

Toronto Motorsports Park (known as the "Cayuga Drag Strip") has been in business for almost 50 years, offering a high-speed rush to a variety of racers - from street-driven vehicles to the "World's Fastest" Top Fuel dragsters.

Neale Armstrong, the track manager, is confident of his crew, and also politely confident that I can handle the car. He knows I will be leaving the track a faster woman. I'm at one of many "test and tune" days they have throughout the season - in my case there's a "teach" element thrown in first.

Armstrong is sure I will be addicted to the sport after just one day. "The sound, the feel, the speeds, the wide variety of cars, the unique designs and paint jobs" are just a few reasons he says drag racing is contagious.

Before I slip behind the wheel to discover if he's right or not, I first have to learn the "tree" - the series of vertical lights that tells me when my race begins. For this practice run, I decide to take my 1998 Jeep Grand Cherokee down the quarter mile. Chris Vassallo goes up against me in a 1996 Camaro Z28 that is essentially stock - about 285 hp and 325 lb.-ft. of torque.

I line up next to him and give him the "stare" - the look funny car drivers give to their opponents to rattle them. I wonder if he knows this is my first time ever on a drag strip. He tells me later I actually unnerved him a bit: "When I looked over and you had a helmet on, I went `Oh, no - a 13-second Cherokee! What am I doing wrong today?'"

As if. With quizzical looks from the people in the stands, my SUV takes off on its new Bridgestone tires to turn in a leisurely 17-second run. And I gaze at the taillights of Vassallo's Camaro so far ahead - my first taste of defeat.

Then it's time to the fire up the Arrow. The first time the engine starts, it roars. Across the track, heads come up from underneath hoods to look at what's caused such a sound.

Fellow racer Sylvie Campbell from Barrie looks at me as if I've lost my mind and tells me I am crazy - this coming from a woman famous for going 257 km/h on a snowmobile.

Crew member Paul Wilson reassures me that I can do this. Wilson has been friends with Monahan since Grade 7, and I trust his judgment after just seconds of hearing him talk shop. But I have already forgotten where the kill switch is and how the shifter works.

Street rodders come up and mention the "testicular fortitude" I must have to drive the car. Now, I'm getting nervous.

My initial thoughts of "How hard can driving in a straight line be?" are about to change as I go through the learning process. I was teetering precariously between wanting to race and wanting to run away.

Monahan assures me the car is safe - relatively. His son will be driving it the next day in a race, which adds more pressure for me to bring the car back in one piece.

I go over all the procedures and worst-case scenarios. The funny car is wearing a "diaper," as Monahan calls it. In case of an engine failure, it will catch any fluids instead of spewing them on to the track. I'm wishing I had one, too.

"If you are a competitive person, you'll love drag racing," says Monahan. "It's head-to-head high pressure, requiring high concentration to be first off the starting line. Knowing the person in the other lane wants to eliminate you, and vice versa, is such a rush. The rest of the world disappears when you're out there."

While I sit in the funny car with the engine started, its body shakes in anticipation while mine shakes out of fear. I'm coaxed on to the track to wet my rear tires and do a burnout.

At Wilson's signal, I hammer the throttle, spinning the wheels to heat up the tires and lay down some rubber - all-important in getting me off the line quicker. The ground shakes as I am thrown forward.

Thanks to the racing radios in my helmet, I hear Monahan's calming voice giving me clear instructions. I reverse slowly back to, then inch forward into, the staging area, knowing this is the time for reckoning.

My thoughts become simple: Please don't let me disappoint those who worked so hard to teach me - give me the strength and perseverance to throttle down the track at a respectable time. The safety crew from around the track, my fellow competitors and the many spectators gather around to watch.

First set of staging lights on, then the second ... yellow light on, then yellow again. The green will be soon.

I hear Monahan yell, "Go!" as I put all my faith into my right foot. The car lifts from behind and snaps forward - a deafening snarl as it rockets down the strip.

It tweaks to the left and I lift off the throttle slightly to make the car snap back to a straight line. I see the end in sight and put my foot into it.

No one can hear me scream.

Thinking a 14- or 15-second run would be acceptable, I am flabbergasted when Monahan tells me my time. Track workers come and give me a handshake, and I hug everyone within reach. My smile is a quarter-mile long.

I can now say I have done what Shirley (Cha Cha) Muldowney and Don (the Snake) Prudhomme are famous for.  I look at the little piece of paper that records my time and speed.

If anyone ever tells me life is a drag,  I will smile and yell,  "You bet!" - an 11.2-second run, at 196.4 km/h, for Nika (the Nutter)

A special thanks to George Monahan for generously letting me drive his Funny Car and giving me such a love for the sport. - to Paul Wilson who's the best crew member that taught me well  - to Racing Radios for lending us the equipment - TOP NOTCH ....it REALLY helped.  Thank you to everyone at Toronto Motorsport Park - and my colleague and friend Laurance for the great pix