Over the years, I’ve been lucky enough to crew for more than a few seriously talented drivers. From grassroots drifting to Formula Drift, from Hot Rod Power Tour builds to NHRA Nostalgia Top Fuel teams, this sport has taken me all over this great country of ours, usually on very little sleep and a questionable gas station diet.
My motorsports journey kicked off in Lima, Ohio, when I enrolled in the Automotive/High Performance Program at The University of Northwestern Ohio. While at UNOH, I became close friends with Pro-Am drifter Garrett Denton. During our time there, Garrett qualified for Formula Drift Pro 2 (now ProSpec), and I got thrown headfirst into helping find, build, and maintain an FD car.
I started as extra hands at events. Before long, I was a full crew member for the 2019 Formula Drift season. That year, we finished 3rd in points out of 28 teams after battling it out in Orlando, Road Atlanta, St. Louis, and Texas. The year before that, I made the trip to Irwindale Speedway in California before it closed, one of those “glad I was there” moments that feels even bigger in hindsight.
When COVID shuffled the deck for everyone, I leaned back into grassroots drifting. We competed at Clutch Kickers for two seasons and hit plenty of local drift events around Georgia and the Southeast with different teams.
A few years later, another FD crew member, Nate Geiger, some friends, and I hauled a 1UZ powered S14 down to Bradenton to compete in the first drift event at the Freedom Factory. Another incredible experience being a small part of something that turned into something much bigger than it was.
Somewhere in between all the tire smoke and road trips, I also crewed for the Atlanta Speed Shop Zot6 Nostalgia Top Fuel car. That meant traveling to NHRA tracks like Beech Bend Raceway in Bowling Green, Kentucky, and wrenching on some legendary funny cars like the Dixie Twister. Watching a Top Fuel car crack 250 mph in the quarter mile from the crew side of the ropes? That’s the kind of thing that sticks with you.
More recently, I’ve shifted into helping build street cars aimed at events like Hot Rod Power Tour. Two of my favorites belonged to Robert and Steven Lewis, a father-and-son duo with wildly different Chevy trucks.
Robert’s “Warden” is an ’86 C10 packing a Premier-built, fuel-injected 496 big block Chevy, QA1 suspension, mil-spec harness, 6-speed manual, and a Ford 9-inch rear end. Steven’s ’87 C30 dually runs a 12-valve Cummins, 6-speed manual, Dakota Digital dash, and a full custom wiring harness, basically the perfect Power Tour support rig. Different trucks, same mission: build cool stuff and make memories.
No matter the discipline, drifting, drag racing, long-haul touring, the themes stay the same. Late nights. Early mornings. Long drives from venue to venue. Sleep deprived weekends. Emergency parts runs. Random detours to Cracker Barrel or Waffle House. The occasional sketchy hotel.
It’s intense, but that’s part of the magic.
I’ll never forget chasing down the perfect chassis across the Southeast for an FD build, standing on the podium for the first time, locking in a season podium finish, or the day the Top Fuel car blasted past 250 mph. Or the time Georgia State Patrol rolled by the shop because Will Couch shaking his car down before an event was a little louder than expected.
Or the string of texts from a father and son sharing updates from the road on Power Tour.
If I had to boil down what motorsports has taught me, it’s this:
First, love the sport. That passion is your competitive advantage. It’s what keeps you going when the thrash gets real.
Second, this isn’t just a weekend hobby. It’s a lifestyle. But if you embrace it, the long nights turn into stories you’ll be telling for decades.
Third, don’t get into racing expecting a yacht. A few people make a living at it. Most of us do it because we can’t imagine not doing it. Some of my best years as a crew member were unpaid and somehow still priceless.
And finally, the people. The friendships you build in the pits, in the shop, on the road, or over late-night diner food are the real trophies. Sure, everyone’s competitive. But walk the pits long enough and you’ll find your people.
These days, life looks a little different, and it’s harder to commit the way I once did. Motorsports does tend to favor youth, energy, and a questionable sleep schedule. But I wouldn’t trade a single blown motor, sketchy hotel, or 3 a.m. trailer repair.
If I had the chance to do it all again?
I’d load the trailer.
-Dave Smetts