As we start looking toward the future, I want to pause for a moment and appreciate where we are today.
Fun Fact. Quarter midgets weren’t part of the original plan. Ben’s dream had always been focused on the big track. However, a cold February ride day changed the trajectory of our goals. Looking back now, I can't imagine our journey without it. This little club gave Ben valuable seat time, lifelong friendships, and helped shape the young man he's becoming.
There is something truly unique about race mornings. It doesn’t matter how many times we’ve done it, the excited nervousness never seems to fade.
The alarms go off earlier than most people would choose on a weekend. Coffee brews while coolers are being packed. Gear is checked one more time. Gloves, hans, radio, fuel, tools, wrist cuffs …. There always seems to be one last thing to load.
Then comes the drive. As we head to the track, Ben stares out the window quietly reflecting. I don’t know exactly what’s going through his mind. Maybe he is imagining the laps he is going to turn, maybe he is replaying the last race, maybe it’s nothing at all. He takes on an air of quiet determination. Sometimes he plays one of his “hype songs”.
The moment the tires roll through the gate, something changes. Ben activates.
The track is quiet. People are starting to get moving. Parents are unloading trailers, pulling their cars up for safety. It feels less like a sporting event and more like a small town that only exists on race days.
Before Ben does anything else, he helps get the pit area set up. The car gets unloaded. The tools are put where they belong. Helmets and gear are laid out for the day. There is a routine to it now, and he takes pride in doing his part before anything else.
After it is all set up, it is catching up with his grandparents over breakfast. It is a favorite tradition now. His pit team consists of Grandma & Papa Coco, Papa Chris, and Mom & Dad.
By now the track is a buzz of activity, kids are starting to catch up and hang out, registration is wrapping up. Now we wait. You won’t find Ben waiting though, he will busy himself announcing heats in the tower, catching up with his friends and visiting loved ones that popped by to see him race.
When the first main event rolls onto the track, he’ll be behind the microphone announcing the drivers, welcoming the crowd and doing everything he can to build excitement for the racers below him.
I smile every time I hear his voice echoing across the track.
He’s not just excited about his race, he’s genuinely excited for everyone’s race. That’s just who he is.
Once his own event is over, you won’t find him sitting around the trailer. He’s back in the stands or along the fence watching his friends compete. He celebrates their wins like they’re his own. If someone has a tough race, he’s usually one of the first kids there with a fist bump, a smile, or a simple, “you’ll get em next time”.
There is something beautiful about watching all the kids race.
They line up on the grid with nerves they rarely admit to, race their hearts out for every position, and then, more often than not, climb out of their cars with grace. They congratulate the winners, shake hands after hard-fought battles, and start talking about what they'll do once they get back to the trailers.
In a world where adults often struggle to handle disappointment, these young racers remind me what resilience looks like.
That's one of the reasons youth motorsports has become so special to our family. It isn't just about learning how to drive a race car. It's about learning responsibility, perseverance, humility, teamwork, sportsmanship, problem-solving, and how to keep showing up even when things don't go your way.
When we first got into this, I had the misconception it was an expensive hobby. Boy was I wrong. That is part of why I am doing this, to shed light on this experience and show people how much value is in this sport. I've come to realize youth motorsports isn't just a racing program. It's one of the best character development programs a family could ever be part of.
The racing is exciting, but the character being built behind the helmet and in the pits is what matters most. And to me, that means more than any trophy ever could.
Character isn’t built during the easy seasons. This season has not been an easy one for the BJR race team. We’ve chased setup issues, fought handling problems, and have had weekends where nothing seemed to go our way.
There have been races where I knew he was disappointed before he even climbed out of the car. As a mom, that’s hard to watch. But what makes me proud isn’t how he reacts when everything goes right, it’s how he responds when it doesn’t.
He'll take a few quiet moments to gather himself. Then he'll help us figure out what happened, pull his shoulders back, put on a smile, and go right back to cheering for everyone else. By the end of the day, while many drivers are loading up to head home, Ben is often standing in victory lane announcing the winners and handing out trophies. Whether he won one himself or not seems to change how excited he is for the kids who did.
That says everything about the kind of young man he’s becoming. Of course I want him to always win, every parent does. But more than that, I want him to become the kind of person people enjoy competing with, look forward to seeing at the track, and remember long after the checkered flag falls.
Watching Ben make an impact has become my favorite part of this whole journey.
The trophies will come. The speed will come. His good days are ahead of him. Until then, I’ll keep cheering for the kid who learned character isn’t built by the races you win. It’s built by the way you carry yourself after the ones you don’t.
As our time racing quarter midgets begins to wind down, I know it'll be bittersweet. Soon we'll sell our equipment and begin preparing for the next chapter. But this won't be goodbye. WQMA will always be home, and you'll still find us at the track whether announcing races, cheering from the fence, lending a hand, and celebrating the next generation of young racers just as others did for us.
WQMA gave Ben so much more than a place to race. It gave him mentors, lifelong friends, confidence, opportunities to lead, and a community that believed in him before most people even knew his name. That's not something you simply leave behind. As we prepare for Legends, we'll still be back at the little track that helped shape this journey, cheering on the next group of kids chasing their own dreams.
To every volunteer who unlocked the gates before sunrise, cooked breakfast, flagged races, worked registration, announced drivers, maintained the track, or simply showed up week after week to give these kids a place to belong...
Thank you.
We arrived hoping to build a race car.
Instead, we helped build a young man.
And I think that's the greatest victory our family could have ever asked for.
