Like just about everyone who's in drag racing today, I started off street racing. When I look back on those days now-and the number of accidents and close calls I saw or was involved in-I can't believe I took so many risks.
When I started working odd jobs after my high school graduation, I was racing "Baybe," my '88 Volkswagen Fox (80 hp and 80 horses worth of nitrous) and I was getting beat pretty regularly by Hondas. But it was also obvious some quicker cars were getting beat by slower ones (and I was often one of the slower ones) for no other reason than roping other (usually faster) cars into big-bet races. Everything is about psychology on the street; it's about getting into races you know you can win by losing races there's no way you should lose. It's about deception, misdirection and flat-out lying. It's also about friends, learning to hustle and making a quick buck.
Friendships, and what would turn out to be professional contacts, are what I got most out of street racing. I met virtually everyone with whom I race today when I was street racing. We all moved together into drag racing and the bonds I developed on the street have proven to be just about the strongest I have.
Practice, Practice, PracticeThere really isn't any "strategy" involved in drag racing-it's a matter of focus and determination. Do the right things and your car will perform the best it can. Whether that's good enough to win races is another story altogether.
The ideal driver would be as in tune with the car as the parts that make it run. You should do exactly what needs to be done to get maximum potential in attempts to win that next round. The vehicle isn't distracted from doing its job. It does its job exactly the same way every time, and so should the driver.
The only way to ensure you're doing the right thing is to practice constantly. When I met my husband Gary back in '95, he was still driving his Civic hatchback on the street and he had just gotten it running with the turbocharged B16 twin cam engine. Just after we got married in '96, we blew the engine during a run on K&N's dyno. Two years later, we decided to make it into a full-on racecar.
With me behind the wheel, we went to PIRA at Pomona in 1998 and everything that could break, broke. It seems the transition from 300-horse streetcar to 500-horse racecar found all the weak links in the Civic. After that, Gary and I decided I should get more practice. On Fridays we'd go to Los Angeles Country Raceway in Palmdale and make full runs, learning how the car reacted and what it liked. On Saturdays, we'd head to Carlsbad Raceway in San Diego County and practice more.
The more I practiced, the more attuned I became with the car and the more I learned to focus on the task at hand. I had tunnel vision long before I entered my first drag race. By the time I went to my first race, I knew I was racing only against myself. The driver in the other lane didn't-and shouldn't-matter.
At the RacesMost of what you do at the races is follow instructions-line up here, fuel check lines there, pull off and weigh the car after that, pick up your time slip there. You can't win races if you don't do what the officials are asking you to do. And it all pretty much becomes a routine to everyone.
When I head to the line to make a run, it's a matter of going through my routine. My burnout technique is pretty straightforward: I pull the e-brake, drop the clutch and spin the tires. I get the tires up to temperature and cleaned of gunk, and then Charlie guides me back far enough so I can make sure the car is straight, then he guides me forward into the first pre-stage bulb.
Many racers make staging sound mysterious. But all it is, after all, is nudging yourself to the staging beams, first into one light beam and then into the other. Once I've lit the "Pre-Staged" bulb, I just bump myself until I'm fully staged (with both the "Pre-Staged" and "Staged" bulbs lit). If I roll too far forward, the Pre-Stage light goes off (deep staging). This could have a dramatic effect on my e.t., so I do everything I can to prevent that.
There's a code of honor among most of the racers that we all practice "courtesy staging." Here, we methodically pre-stage and wait for the competitor to pre-stage, then both pull into full stage together, don't just drive in and light both sets of lights immediately (that's what we call "chicken shit" staging because, well, it's chicken shit; not to mention, you'll get disqualified). But while I respect that code of honor, by the time I'm at the line, I'm only looking at my side of the starting tree. That's what my competitor does as well; our focus is now at the end of the track.
How I'll launch the car is something we decide before I pull up to the line. My other crew chief, Mike, watches how everyone else is launching, takes into consideration the weather, altitude, track temperature and his well-trained intuition and then discusses it with Gary and Charlie; they determine the best rpm to launch that run. They usually set the two-step somewhere between 8000 and 8600 rpm for the launch and I hold that rpm with the button on the steering wheel until the lights drop. Sometimes we determine the launch speed an hour before a race and, more often, we'll be tweaking with it right up to the last moment. I've been on the line when one of them reset the two-step seconds before the race.
If I waited for the green light, I'd get hole-shot every race. I anticipate the green when the three yellow lights drop. I've made enough runs by now that I can intuitively feel when the green light is about ready to ignite. If things go right (and they usually do) I'll cut a good light and that will ultimately mean a hole-shot advantage on my competitor.
With the race already started, the driving is up to me. I don't power shift (it hasn't proven to be any more effective for me), but I shift quickly enough that I lose very, very few rpm between shifts, even though I do let off the throttle a bit. Some people power shift and it works for them. Some don't. Driving is all technique and we all drive differently. I always keep my foot just above the clutch where I let it just touch the pedal.
I do use the shift light to signal my shifts. When to shift is all determined by track conditions for that day. Every once in a while (not on every run) I glance over at the tach just to see what rpm I'm at, but usually I wait for the shift light to come on to shift. After all, that light is everything.
Slowing a 9-second front-driver after a run isn't always without its own form of drama, but the chute does most of the work for me. I haven't wound up going end-over-end yet.
If we've done everything right, each run at the end of a race day will look just like every other run. Consistency comes with experience and it's the way drag races are won. We strive to be very, very consistent.
The FutureFor 2002, we're teaming with Myles Bautista and I'll be running my new unibody 2000 Civic Si. (Yes, it's an authentic Si.) With an even more powerful B16, the Si should be at least as fast as my old Civic hatchback-maybe even faster. Best of all, it won't be all beat down and tired like my hatchback. If everything goes right, the MBLK team is going to have a surprise for everyone in the 2002 season.
The new car will also look very similar to my hatchback. When you're working with sponsors like Nitto Tires and ExtrudeHone, a professional appearance and behavior, are important at every single race.
I would like to thank all my other sponsors, my crew chiefs, Gary, Charlie and Mikey, my teammate Myles "161 mph" Bautista, and all the racers, fans, and friends who have supported me.
Lisa Kubo, 27, has won the 2000 IDRC Quick 16 Championship, 2001 NIRA Pro 4 cyl. Championship and was a runner-up in the NHRA Summit Import races. She has run a 9.16 at 157 mph in her '92 Civic hatchback.
Drag Racing Vocabulary Made Super EasyThe Track - Drag strips are 1/4-mile long and, on occasion, an 1/8-mile long. That's 1320 or 660 feet from start line to finish line (both of which are usually white stripes painted on the pavement).
Christmas Tree - Drag races are controlled by this obviously named device which consists of a spine upon which are hung seven lights down each side. The two top small amber bulbs signal "staging" (more about that later). The next three larger ambers count down from the top to the start, either successively or all at once (more about that later). The green bulb just below those ambers indicates the actual start of the race. The red bulb below lights when a vehicle leaves the start line before the green has lit. The tree operates usually in two ways - either as a "Pro Tree" or a "Sportsman Tree."
Pro Tree - During pro tree operation, all three large amber lights go on simultaneously, followed 4/10ths of a second later by the green. Reaction time is measured from the time the ambers go on until car leaves, so a 0.40-second reaction time would be leaving at exactly the moment the green light goes on. That's "cutting a perfect light."
Sportsman Tree - During sportsman operation, the three large amber bulbs on the tree go on in consecutive order, each 5/10ths of a second after the other. Reaction time is measured from the time the last amber goes on; in sportsman racing a 0.50-second reaction time is leaving at exactly the moment the green light goes on. This is a "perfect light."
Staging - Two sets of parallel, light-sensitive photo cells are set 12 inches apart at the start line in each lane of the strip. When a vehicle's front wheels roll into the first photo cell's beam, the first set of small amber lights on the christmas tree light indicating the machine is "pre-staged." When those front wheels are nudged forward into the next beam, the vehicle is now fully "staged" and ready to race. If the driver can manage to get his car so perfectly staged so the "staged" lights are on while the "pre-staged" lights aren't (that is, the front wheels are far forward enough to be in the staging beam, but out of the pre-stage beam), that's considered a slight advantage and called "deep staging."
60-Foot Times - Because a car is most difficult to move when it's standing still, the most important part of a drag race is often the very beginning. Strips usually have a set of photo cells 60-feet down the track to generate a time from the start until that point. These 60-foot times don't have any bearing on the race, but help racers determine if their machines are effective at the race's beginning ("launching"). Some, but not all, tracks will also generate times at half track for similar analytical reasons.
Speed Trap - At NHRA tracks another set of photo cells is triggered for each lane 66-feet before the finish line. By measuring the time between that set of cells and the finish line, a terminal speed in mph can be easily generated. It's this speed that is displayed on a track's displays for spectators just below the elapsed time (e.t.) to the finish line.
Finish Line - Whoever crosses this line first wins (assuming that person didn't generate a red light at the start). There is also another set of photo cells which generates the final elapsed time and trap speed.
Runoff - This is what comes after the finish line. You need it to stop. And there's no such thing as too much runoff.
Return Road - This stretch of pavement runs parallel to the strip and is what you drive back up (slowly) to retrieve your time slip (which records your performance) then go back on to make another run.