Unexpected Success

Three. Two. One. Go!

Gates drop, and six cars hurtle down the ramp. The noise of their wheels joins the cheer of the crowd.

Up the hill they go and onto the final stretch. Eyes watch, trying to spot the winner. Through the finish line. The judges study the video replay and announce the top three. Points on the board. Time to do it again.

Race after race, round after round, the annual Pinewood Derby progresses. I await my heat.

***

A humble block of wood becomes the base
Where artful dreams and craftsmanship combine
Starting a whole two months before the race
We make payment with our efforts and time

At Rift Valley Academy, my school in Kenya, Pinewood Derby happens in the first term of every year. Nearly half the school participates in transforming a block of pinewood into a car of some kind. Then we race them on a big track in the school gym.

In the weeks leading up to getting our kits, we dream and imagine. We think through all the crazy and amazing ideas for our cars. Sketches made in school notebooks – usually during class – form the blueprints of our visions.

Then we get the kits. Our fantastic dreams and visions fall short of what we are actually able to do. No, your car won’t end up with automatic doors and a carved interior. No, it won’t look exactly like your favorite matchbox model.

Minor setbacks. But when your vision meets reality, you adapt it. Back we go to the drawings. Adjusting our plans, we get to work.

Being in 9th grade, we’re now allowed to modify the wheel and axle system if we want. We can use pinpoints.

Most cars use a fixed axle – each plastic wheel freely rolling on a nail. This system has two major points of friction – between the wheel and the axle and between the wheel and the body of the car. Friction slows the car as it races down the track.

Pinpoints eliminate that friction. You glue the wheels to a pointed axle, which spins between a pair of set screws. The reduced friction gives the potential for a much faster car. But pinpoints are difficult – not just in terms of having to spend more time on them, but in that everything has to come together just right. If not, you end up with little more than a fancy block of wood.

Because of that difficulty, I am the only one to attempt them in my grade level. They are harder than I expected.

I struggle in machining the axles, drilling the set screws, and aligning the wheels. Each step requires skills that I don’t have.

When you’re attempting something you’ve never done before, it is helpful to have people with experience there to help you. My car is no exception. I’m grateful for an upperclassman and staff member, who are both using the same wheel system. They show me the steps to take. They encourage me when I feel like giving up.

Slowly but surely, I get the car done. I cut the wood, sand it down, and give it a coat of varnish. I assemble the wheel system. It looks sleek and beautiful. But will it fly? Will it win?

***

Wheels touching down on the official track
The moment comes to test the handheld form
The time is up and there’s no turning back
To qualify the car must now perform

After all the preparation from the previous two months, today is the first day we get to send our cars down the official course. Plastic meets the track.

One run from the starting gate to the finish line is all that stands between me and qualification. Easy enough for someone hoping to compete for speed.

Unless the wheels fall off.

My axle is too short, and the uneven surface jars it from its position between the screws. The car slides to a stop. I tighten the screws and send it up for another run.

The wheels don’t turn – the screws clamp the axle, locking it into place. My car isn’t going anywhere. I tweak the system again.

The afternoon wears on. Fiddle. Fiddle. Fiddle. The wheels fall off again. More fiddling. This time the wheels stay on, but the car veers sharply into the side railing – driving the car to a halt a few feet from the finish line.

Ten minutes left. Qualification closes at supper time. I’ve only got a few more chances.

Down the ramp. Up the hill. Onto the stretch. The wheels stay on. Closing in on the finish line. The wheels stay on. Three feet. Two feet. The wheels keep spinning. Across the line. The wheels fall off. But I’ve qualified.

Relieved, I put my car with the others and go for supper. I made it – barely. My chances for the race don’t look too good though.

***

First the yellow flag of waiting to race
Then the green flag to get it underway
And flashing toward the checkered flag with pace
Who will finish the winner here today

The big day arrives. Having machined an extra pair of set screws, the axle seems to be rotating nicely. I’m feeling more confident about my chances. The car rolls straight along the ground. I’m as ready as one can be.

Ready. Set. Go. The first graders get the day underway.

Second grade…

Third grade…

Seventh grade…

As the eight graders begin their final races, we get our cars. I make some final adjustments – tweaking the screws and adding a touch of oil to decrease friction. Waiting, I spin the wheels – as if that will make them go faster down the track.

The announcer calls my name along with five other classmates. We hand our cars to the man at the starting gate and take our spots near the end of the track.

Ready. Set. Go. Down the track they go. Second place for me.

Six races in total. Once, the wheels fall off. Once, the car hugs the side railing. But the car does enough to advance from the first round. I’m still in it.

The challenges prove too much to overcome in the semifinals. The problems with alignment and the axles return, and I struggle to keep it car in the running. I finish fourth in my group.

My run is done.

I’m disappointed but don’t let it ruin the rest of the day. I cheer on my friends as they race in the finals. I watch the upperclassman and staff members complete their races. I root for the two guys that helped me with my pinpoints. Both of them win.

The races come to an end. Another Pinewood Derby has come and gone. I’ll be back next time.

***

Though on the track my entry came up short
Though it was not enough to win the day
Calling it a failure would so distort
Countless successes found in other ways

I failed in my goal of winning the race, but I consider the derby a success. The success just wasn’t where I expected it.

I found success in the little moments of magic throughout the day:

It was in admiring the craftsmanship of my fellow entrants – fine details of lights that worked, doors that opened, and paint that looked realistic.

It was in rooting for my friends as they raced – at least when I wasn’t competing against them.

It was in the pre-race banter – Eat my sawdust.

It was in the delightful food – donuts, hamburgers, ice-cream, and more donuts.

It was in the spending the day in the company of friends and family.

But more than the events of the day, I found success in the process – in crafting my car. I took a risk in trying pinpoints. That risk was rewarded with fun and learning.

I used tools I’d never used before and learned how to use them. When I first started filing the axles to a point, I rotated them manually, giving an uneven and off-centered point. A staff member recommended I use a drill and file instead. I did, and the result was much better.

I experimented and adapted – adjusting my process and car on the fly. When the struggles of qualification day came, I had the toolkit to know what to tweak and play with.

I made something. Taking an initial concept, nothing more than my imagination, I created a finished product. I made a car that, although it didn’t run as well as I’d have liked it to, made it down the track using a wheel system that I’d never used before.

I had a blast.

In some ways, the race day is merely a celebration. It honors the days of cutting, reworking, sanding, and painting. It pays tribute to the mistakes, the corrections, and improvements. It respects the payment of blisters, sweat, and sunny afternoons. It’s a recognition of the two month journey.

***

The goals you seek are not the only place
Of great success and victory in your life
Be aware of the little points of grace
That even weave throughout the times of strife

As you go through life, keep two things in mind.

1) Success isn’t always where you think it is. It tends to pop up in unexpected places. What may appear to be a failure under one measure may be a win under another. Keep your expectations flexible.

2) Work is its own success. Enjoy the process. When the end comes, when everything is finished, your celebrations are in tribute to the work that came before.

***

I sit with friends and family in the award ceremony, celebrating the winners. My grade comes up.

Second place in speed goes to…
First place in speed goes to…
Most unique design goes to…
Best craftsmanship goes to… me!

Another unexpected success.

###

The winning car.