Sixth place finish at Daytona. Eighth at Atlanta. The westward swing brings out a variety of top tens for the accomplished dirt racer. Even a DNF at Rocker Arms International Speedway doesn't bog the team down. They're winners even if they haven't nailed down a first place trophy yet. Team Dinoco is on fire.
It's a P2 finish after a late race restart at Dover one night that confirms everything the team already knew. It's in their future.
"The short tracks behave a lot more like the dirt ones," Adam says one day, back at team HQ. "I can really pitch forward and lean through the corners at an angle. If tires aren't something to consider, anyhow."
They're going over the race recording from the previous weekend. Half a car length separated them from Victory Lane that night.
"You think that if you'd kept your tires in better shape you could have had more grip and done better?" Cal asks.
It's the only thing he can think of. Everything else seemed perfect – track temp, tire pressure, wedge adjustments. Adam never once complained about being too tight or too loose.
"Nah, that dude just outdrove me is all," Adam shakes himself. "I got up there that far because I was dirt-trackin' it hard around the top – he was just putting together better laps from the get go."
"Hmm." Cal can't help but frown and continue to analyze every possible situation, if there was anywhere he could have improved.
"Don't worry about it, dad, it's okay," Adam says quietly. "We're not even halfway through the season – and I'm a rookie, there's lot of room for improvement."
"Yeah, yeah, I know – I just want you to get your first win, you know? And to see you come that close – it eats me up a little. But, then again, I didn't win a race until my second year, so…"
A smile spreads across Adam's face. He thinks back to those nights he spent around a campfire with his family. They would tell racing stories until the cows came home, and once, Strip got to hounding on Cal because he finished second so many times before actually winning a race. What made it funny was that back in the day, he'd done the same thing. It's practically a Weathers tradition.
"Gotta have the win be within grasp before you can take it," Adam reminds him. "Second place builds character, yeah?"
"Ha! Yeah, I guess you could call it that."
Adam lets out a yawn and blinks a couple times. There's barely been any free time to rest since the hauler returned to base. The team immediately started focusing on the next race. Somewhere on the other side of the complex, the Piston Cup team was doing much of the same sort of work.
"I'm gonna go for a drive, wake myself up, is that okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, that's fine, take a breather."
Dinoco Racing headquarters had been a favorite place of his in his time as a small youth. One of the first memories Adam can easily recall is driving around the front lobby in all that wide, open space, surrounded by racing memorabilia and giant plaques and displays of all sorts that transcended the ages of Piston Cup racing.
"Still gets to you, don't it?"
Adam turns and greets the familiar voice.
"Long time, no see, Roger. How's that retirement life? Had to replace any joints yet?"
"Oof, straight for the old man jabs!" Wheeler feigns offense through a genuine smile. "It's nice actually. Got a trip to Aspen planned next month. Getting out of this hot weather we're having."
"They should build a track in the mountains out there, that'd be cool! Think of the differences in air/fuel mixtures and how that would translate to power outputs."
Roger shakes himself in admiration and disbelief.
"You don't think about anything other than racing, do you? Not ever. I swear, all you Weathers boys are the same."
Adam waves his great uncle's old crew chief off in dismissal. "Don't know what you're talking about, man. But anyway – what are you doing here?"
"Just came to visit. Been a while since I saw you guys."
"I'm getting ready to go see what the Cup team is up to. Sometimes I'm not sure if Strip's the one training Cruz, or if she's training him. There's a bit of a disconnect around the whole technology thing."
Roger lets out a soft chuckle. "Maybe he should come to Aspen with me. I'll teach him how to ski."
"Death by snow mishap – never saw that one coming."
"Oh come on now, give him some credit."
"The dude cannot drive on snow. At all. I've seen it."
Roger continues to laugh. "Ah, it's good to have some fresh young oil around here. Gives us old guys some hope for the future."
Behind them, the front doors open. Adam pays no attention to it, as it's a public space and cars come through all the time. There's almost always a tour going on.
"Looks like you have company," Roger says as he turns to leave. "Enjoy it, rockstar."
Roger takes off as if it's no one's business and heads straight for the workshop in the back to catch up with the boys.
Adam hears whispers and the sound of tiny tires squeaking on the polished floor. He turns to see a family with two small children looking at him from the entrance. The small cars' eyes are wide with awe and excitement. Adam immediately feels pride and purpose swell with him yet again. The fans make racing what it is – without them, there's no him doing what he loves.
"Hi there!" he offers. "Welcome to Dinoco Racing HQ."
The kids sit motionlessly in awe at his welcoming persona. One of them even had little '45' stickers on his side. The other, a '51'.
"Ah, you're a Ramirez, fan, aren't you?" he asks the little girl.
She makes a little squeaky noise and nods sharply.
Adam looks to the boy.
"And you, you like the 45? Hmm, I wonder where he is?"
The boy grins and attempts to hide himself behind his mother's front left tire.
"Oh, come on now, Jimmy, don't be shy!" the mother coaxes. "Say hi!"
"Sorry about them," the father apologizes, "they're not super social. We just thought we'd come and take the tour and let them see the place."
"Yeah, of course!" Adam backs up and gestures for them to follow. "Come on, I'm looking for something to do over a break anyway."
The lady at the front desk watches Adam guide the visitors toward the racing heritage museum and opens her mouth to object. There's a tour in half an hour that a certified tour guide will be giving.
"I got this, Shelby, no worries," Adam tells her. "Take the tour fee or whatever out of my pay if you have to. Just let me do this for the fans this once. They'll love it."
"Alright, just keep them in safe areas – no deep garage adventures." The warning in her tone bounces right off of him.
"Sure thing, thanks Shelb."
Upon rejoining his tour group in the museum, he takes a deep breath.
"Alright folks, since we're a small group today, I'm gonna show you everything. But first! This is where I used to like to come hang out – this is where I realized I was a racer."