Superman’s Last Stand: I'm Just Here for the Gasoline

by Steven King

When it comes to Hot Wheels, I think I started out like most of the people that follow 3DBotmaker.

I would take the money I earned from mowing lawns (I had 4 lawns on the block I would take care of) and that would keep new cars coming into my ownership. I still remember the place I would go: Jerry's Toys and Hobbies in Saint Anthony, MN. It was the type of toy store we don’t see much anymore. Jerry the owner would get to know his customers; he always knew what cars to show me, cars I simply could not reject.

I would watch car movies as a kid and replay the best scenes from the movies on my bedroom floor. Smokey and the Bandit, Gone in 60 Seconds (1974 version), Vanishing Point/ Duel, The Road Warrior; they all where replayed over and over again during the long Minnesota winters.

Then one summer my life changed: the older kids down the block where selling their orange Hot Wheels track with a duel lane starter (almost 20 feet of track, to be precise). From that point on, the focal point was not simply re-enacting car stunts I watched on T.V. or the movies; now it was to challenge the cars with thrilling, death-defying racing.

FIRST TRACK -- A young "Superman" and his very first track set.

The first tracks were somewhat short, barely tapping into the over 18 feet of track I had bought. Starting off on the top of the chair and going a few feet, I would race all my cars. The cars I bought from Jerry's Toys and Hobbies started to change as well; I started looking for specific traits: faster, lower, heavier. The tracks started to grow as well; they moved from the chair and slowly got long enough that they would travel from the 2nd floor to the 1st floor. The cars would dance their way down the track.

When I had a friend over, we took turns being at the starting line or the finish; when they were busy, I would bribe one of my sisters into starting the cars for me and, when no one was around, I would race them alone and do my best to figure out who won. Later on, I got the big flag finish line that rarely lied. The door to the 2nd floor still has grill imprints permanently testifying that these cars flew down the track and often came to a short stop.

As I grew older I got more scientific about racing the cars, looking at weight and wind resistance. I didn’t race the cars as much as I was when I was younger but they still got used enough.

Things started chipping away at my racing time: Boy Scouts then video games, High School then girls, all took me further away from my racing. From something I would do every day, it slowed way down; they got packed away at some point for months at a time (it is hard to impress a girl with orange tracks and Hot Wheels all over the place). But I never stopped collecting, and at least once a month I would introduce my new cars to the old ones by racing. I even got some of my high school friends into racing for a minute.

The author as a child and his multi-story track.

Hot Wheels started to drift away from me, though. I had a real car now and I was determined to learn a few of the tricks I saw in the movies and recreated when I was a child on my bedroom floor.

Then I meet a great gal, punk as all-get-out and with an eye for big stupid guys with Mohawks. We started talking and dating and, as things go, we grew close. Because winters suck in Minnesota, with long stretches of cold, she decided she was going back to the land of hot summers and warm winters. Given the choice, I chose to go with her. As I was going through my belongings, I came across my cars and, out of instinct, I packed them away - the idea of leaving them was too great to deal with.

When I first got to Los Angeles I was the typical fish out of water. Our work schedules often left one of us alone for a large part of the day and one day in a fit of boredom I opened that box I brought from Minnesota.

Each car I grabbed gave me a rush of memories: I remembered where I bought it, I remembered the time it won a race sliding down the track upside down. It was a flood of memories (all great) and they brought a smile to my face. I was still into bigger cars at the time and when I would bring up Hot Wheels to my friends a few of them thought I was crazy, but on a few I could see a smile and a recollection of races won in the 1/64th scale.

I would bust out a few cars from time to time and display them, but that was as far as it went. As an adult, I didn’t know how to recapture my youth yet stay true to the adult I had become.

That’s when I saw it. YouTube had gifted me a path forward: videos of guys just like me with the same passion for these little cars, still putting them to the test.

It started with YouTube channels like Ghostjerker and Races for Fun and then I saw some who took the concept to the next level.

I jumped in watching 3DBotmaker's channel right when he was finishing up the 2019 KOTM. I remember it was Episode 31. Soon, I was hooked.

The production, the set, the commentary and (most importantly) the racing - just as honest and exciting as when I was a kid, sending my cars down the stairs on the orange track. It felt like coming home again, but this time the house had better lighting, a proper finish line and way better commentary.

Then fate stepped into my life yet again and I put my name in as a driver for this new series 3DBotmaker had created. He called it the DRC and it was very different than Race Mountain. It was a diecast rally championship and I instantly fell in love with the idea.

I was granted Caduceus (better known as the 1995 Ford Escort Rally, good old number 8). And then I watched as that little car performed magic on the newly printed DRC track; it was almost as if the car was built just for that track.

For drag racing, the odd weight positioning made the Escort perform sub-par. It was slow off the starting line and never lived up to its potential. But something about the DRC track sends that little Escort flying around the corners like almost no other car can.

It is now the 4th event for the DRC. That magic little Escort has won 3 events for 2020, but she is showing her age; some test and tuning has caused damage and she struggles where she used to fly.

Even if we lose this 4th event, I have nothing but love for that little Escort. It has rekindled a long dormant flame, buried deep inside, and has brought me joy - introducing me to a great community of new friends. Fate brought me into the DRC, so it is only fitting that fate decides my future for the DRC. But, either way, I will be smiling.

A great movie asked “Wheremust we go,wewho wander this wasteland, in search of our better selves?” I found the answer: it is in the DRC.