Daytona's 1969 and 1971 Twins

David Pearson is the second winningest NASCAR Cup driver of all time. His 105 wins rank second only to the King, Richard Petty. Included in Petty's 200 wins are seven Daytona 500 victories. Seven! Pearson captured only a single trophy in the Great American Race. The one he nabbed, however, was certainly one for the ages: the 1976 Daytona 500.

Though the 1976 500 ranks as Pearson's best known Daytona victory, his win tally includes two additional February wins.

Pearson rolled into Daytona in February 1969 as the defending champion from 1968. Driving the blue and gold Holman Moody Ford, he piled up 16 wins and 36 top 5 finishes in 48 starts. Petty also won 16 races with his Plymouth in 1968 yet finished third in the points.

Things looked a bit different the following February though. Pearson returned in his #17 Ford...

Embed from Getty Images

 

...but Petty was now in the Blue Oval camp as well after doing the unthinkable and leaving Plymouth.

 

Buddy Baker captured the pole for the Daytona 500 on February 9th with a speed of 188+ MPH. Bobby Issac laid down the second quickest lap locking him and Baker into the front row for the 500. Qualifying continued in the days to follow to set the line-up for the twin qualifying races. 

On Wednesday, February 19th, Pearson became the first driver to break 190 MPH. Though the fastest lap was now his record, Pearson had to start 15th in his qualifying twin because of when the lap was set. 

From 1959 through 1968, the qualifying races were 100 miles each. Beginning in 1969, the races were extended to 125 miles. The idea was the cars would have to pit at least once for fuel rather than stretching fuel mileage to run the full race distance without a stop.

Baker took the green from the top spot earned by his pole-day run in the first of the two twins on Thursday, February 20th. After a couple of laps out front, however, he pulled his Cotton Owens Dodge behind the wall to preserve the car for the 500. Pete Hamilton, the 1968 Rookie of the Year, took over the lead and held it for 14 laps in the #1 A.J. King 1969 Dodge Charger. A few years later, Hamilton's Charger became a late model sportsman car for Dave Marcis - and eventually a show car for Goody's Headache Powders and R.J. Reynolds.

As Hamilton pulled the field around the 2.5 mile superspeedway, Pearson made his way through the field from his 15th place starting spot. He went to the point on lap 18 and stayed there for six laps until surrendering the lead to pit. Cale Yarborough then set the pace for 19 laps in the Wood Brothers Ford. With six laps to go, however, Pearson's powerful Holman Moody Ford caught and passed Yarborough. The #17 led the remaining laps to capture the win.

The victory was Pearson's 47th career Grand National / Cup win and his first at Daytona since the 1961 Firecracker 250. Pearson could not extend his good fortune from the 125 to the 500. He finished sixth, two laps down to winner LeeRoy Yarbrough.

Source: Daytona Beach Morning Journal

Two years later, Pearson was back at the Beach with Holman Moody. The #17 had Purolator Filters on the side as a sponsor - a company that joined him in the years to follow with the Wood Brothers.

     

A.J. Foyt captured the pole for the 500 in the Wood Brothers' car. Isaac once again qualified second as he did two years earlier. Pearson's qualifying time placed him in the second twin rather than the first one that he won in 1969.

Isaac started from the pole in the twin as a result of his pole day second fastest time. Buddy Baker started alongside him in the Petty Enterprises #11 factory-backed Dodge.

 

Credit: Al Consoli

Though he started fourth, Pearson rocketed to the lead on the first lap and held it for the first three laps. The two powerful Hemi-powered Dodges of Isaac and Baker then diced for the next 20+ laps with neither leading more than a couple of laps at a time. 

With about 20 laps to go, Pearson went back to the front. Baker's Maurice Petty-built Hemi, however, refused to concede to Pearson's Ford and stormed back to the front to lead for nine laps. 

Pearson drafted Baker's Dodge and once again took the lead with 10 to go. Baker pursued Pearson's 17 doggedly and eked out the lead once again - but only for a single lap. Pearson found the extra oomph he needed and led the final fix laps to win his second twin in three years.

 

The win was Pearson's 59th victory of his GN/Cup career. As was the case in 1969, Pearson's success on Thursday did not transfer to the 500. He finished fourth to the King. Petty captured this third Daytona 500 trophy as Pearson continued to seek his first.

TMC

The King was Fond of Pond

A recent birthday advanced me to the year of Lennie Pond.

Richard Petty and Lennie Pond struck a friendship somewhere during the late 1960s and early 1970s. Pond traveled from time to time to Level Cross during his late model sportsman years to buy parts from the Petty shop in Level Cross. His visits and success on Virginia shorts tracks caught King's eye. Lennie eventually moved to NASCAR's Winston Cup ranks with encouragement from the Pettys.

Credit: Donald Evans

In 1978, Petty and Pond helped one another in a relief role in multiple races.

In the Southeastern 500 at Bristol, both Petty and Pond were involved in an early race accident along with Darrell Waltrip and Roland Wlodyka. Petty parked his Dodge Magnum, but Ranier Racing patched Pond's #54 Chevy well enough to continue. The car had staying power, but Pond had a tough time remaining in the seat. The King took over and rallied the car to a top 5 running position. Pond later returned to his car and maintained the track position gained by Petty to finish fifth.

Credit: David Allio / RacingPhotoArchives

When the tour returned to Bristol for its inaugural night race, the two drivers reversed roles. Six days earlier at Michigan, Petty debuted his new STP Chevrolet. His first start, however, resulted in a late race wall pounding. The team borrowed a car from Henley Gray for Bristol, and King did his best to race with a battered ribcage. After Pond fell out 100 laps into the race, he took over the 43 in relief. Pond helped the borrowed ride finish fifth - coincidentally just as Petty did in Pond's car in the spring race.

*   *   *   *   * Before joining the Cup ranks full-time, Pond came *this close* to being at the wheel of a Petty car in the 1970 Daytona 500. Kinda. Maybe.

The Petty team was a Plymouth stalwart from 1960 through 1968. The racing community was stunned in late November 1968, however, when Petty Enterprises announced a switch to Ford for 1969. During the one-year run with Ford Motor Company, the team sold a 1968 Plymouth to another Virginian, Don Robertson.

Robertson partnered with another independent driver and fellow commonwealther, Jabe Thomas, to race the 1969 schedule with the Plymouth acquired from the Pettys. The car was painted slate blue and gold, and Thomas started and finished a respectable 14th at Daytona.

Robertson planned to field a second Plymouth in the 1970 Daytona 500, and he originally slotted James Cox to drive it. Cox raced eight times for Robertson in 1969, and Robertson apparently submitted Cox's name on the entry blank for the 500.

While it isn't known which car, if either, was the former Petty Plymouth, the paint on the cars does provide a suggestive clue. Thomas' #25 Plymouth arrived at Daytona painted red and gold.

The second Robertson #23 Plymouth, however, bore the base slate blue that Thomas raced a year earlier. Though the car number, gold accents, and sponsor lettering differed, the blue and gold suggest the second car may have been the Petty Plymouth.

A couple of weeks before Speedweeks, a friend urged Pond to call Thomas about the possibility of racing at Daytona for his second career Grand National start. After discussions with Robertson, all decided Pond would be a good choice to race Robertson's second Plymouth over Cox.

Source: Petersburg Progress Index

*   *   *   *   * NASCAR's 1966 Rookie of the Year, James Hylton, had also been a Mopar man in his three Grand National seasons. In the off-season before 1970, however, he sold his Dodge equipment and bought a used Holman Moody Ford previously raced by David Pearson.

Misfortune struck Hylton when he wrecked his Ford during a practice session on Monday before the Daytona 500. The damage was significant enough that Hylton realized his crew couldn't repair it in time for the race.

Robertson and Thomas knew of Hylton's problem - and that he had more experience than Pond. Unlike Lennie, Hylton was a full-time driver chasing points for the Grand National title.

As a nice gesture, Robertson turned the #23 Plymouth over to Hylton for the 125-mile qualifying race. Hylton finished 11th and earned the car a starting spot in the 500. Robertson then withdrew Cox's name as the official driver, substituted Hylton, and kept Lennie on the sideline. Hylton was obviously grateful for the opportunity to race, but he felt somewhat awkward knowing the ride had been promised to Pond.

When the day was done, Hylton finished 22nd in the 500 with teammate Thomas a few spots back in 25th. Cox's opinion about being removed from the car are unknown, and it's not clear if he even went to Daytona.

Though circumstances resulted in Pond's losing the opportunity to race in his first Daytona 500 in 1970, he soldiered on with his late model sportsman career. He moved to Winston Cup in 1973, ran the majority of the races, and narrowly won NASCAR's Rookie of the Year honor over Darrell Waltrip.

That season, Pond finally got behind the wheel of a Petty car for the first time when he relieved the King during the Southern 500 at Darlington.

TMC

TMC Racing Stories: Daytona 3

The 1980 Daytona 500 was my first to attend. A few months earlier at the wedding of my uncle Earl, my uncle Ronald who had introduced me to racing about five years earlier committed to taking me to Daytona. With King Richard having won the 1979 500 and his seventh title, I was on a high knowing he'd likely return strong in the 1980 race.

Ronald was always somewhat of a free spirit. As race week arrived, my travel plans suddenly changed. Rather than have me ride with him to Jacksonville to stay with Earl and his new bride, Ronald called my mother to say he was already in Jacksonville! Today, I'd be frustrated as hell if he pulled that stunt - but then it was simply no big deal. I kept my eye on the prize and really wasn't worried about the details - even if my parents were.

On a Friday night, my mother put me on a Greyhound bus for an all-night ride to Jacksonville. I naively slept pretty much the whole way. Fortunately, my uncle was there to pick me up at the station - well at least Earl was. Ronald, who'd promised the trip and the ride, was a no-show.

Earl surprised me with an unexpected outing Saturday night. He took me to NWA wrasslin' at Jacksonville's Memorial Coliseum. He was very intellectual, college educated, informed of current events, opinionated, and a sports junkie. Professional wrestling, however, was kind of his soap opera or trashy novel vice. Unlike many who immersed themselves in it, he knew what was real vs. staged. Yet he still enjoyed and laughed heartily at the story lines. We got to see The American Dream Dusty Rhodes, Harley Race, and the largest man I've ever seen in my life - Andre The Giant.

Earl, my new aunt, Ronald, his girlfriend, and I left on a cold Sunday morning in the mid-size motorhome belonging to my aunt's father. I went to Florida thinking the weather was always warm. My long sleeve shirt, denim jacket and orange/blue Petty cap were about to be tested.

We were in front of Lake Lloyd without a really clear view of anything - not of the pits or of turns 3 and 4. I could barely see the start-finish line through the myriad of folks on top of their motorhomes. But we had a pretty good view of turns 1 and 2 before they thundered down the backstretch.

With the 43 starting 4th, that day-glo red and Petty blue Olds 442 popped from the starting grid whereas the gray pole-winning car of Buddy Baker was hard to spot anywhere on the track from where we were.

The King was competitive, and I remember shaking as he made lap after lap in the draft. Part of it was adrenaline - but I'm sure a lot of it was because the temps were dropping as a stiff wind intensified. But I simply could not believe it when Petty disappeared from the track.

I used a Winston AM radio headset back in the late 1980s and early 90s and have used a scanner since. Looking back, I find it funny I didn't have any sort of radio with me. I had no idea what happened to the 43. By the time the car disappeared, Ronald had already climbed down and disappeared into the motorhome. One reason was to warm himself from the weather. Another was to warm himself with a few nips from a bottle of Old No. 7! He had MRN on the radio, and that's where I learned 43 was done for the day after climbing down myself.

Yet the race continued, so I went back on top. After another dozen laps or so, the cold got the best of the rest of 'em. One by one - my aunt, Ronald's girlfriend, and then Earl - all retreated to the motorhome leaving me alone. I shivered with hands thrust in my pockets and collar upturned as a hedge against the wind. I know Buddy won, but I simply could not see that gray Olds cross the line.

The race is one of a few where I don't have a ticket stub. I think we just paid a flat fee or maybe a per head fee to get into the infield. But I did return home with a couple of collectibles:

• a Daytona t-shirt that I wore until it was thread bare - well, actually until I piled on the freshman fifteen (and then some) in college. I'd hate to think what I'd look like if I tried to sport a shirt that small today.

• a patch with the old DIS logo that I bought at Stuckey's on the way back to Jax. My mother stitched it plus multiple other racing patches to the back of that jean jacket I wore to the race.

• a Richard Petty 'jersey' shirt. I happened to be wearing it later that spring when a few photos were taken for our high school yearbook.

I got to observe plenty of adult things from heavy drinking, hootin and hollerin, a portable hot tub even in the cold air, etc. (I wish it'd been much warmer to have my eyes opened by the bikinis that were certainly sported under heavy jackets.) But I remember thinking one of the neatest things I saw was this little custom roadster made to look like a Busch beer can.

Only recently did I learn the 1980 500 was likely the debut of the roadster. A couple of New Smyrna entrepreneurial designers built it. Later they contracted with Stroh's Brewing to build several as promotional cars.

Source: Daytona Beach Morning Journal

The arrangement between Ronald and my parents - written in sand I suppose - was for Ronald to drive me back to Tennessee on Monday. Schools may have been closed because of President's Day, or maybe I simply missed the day. Either way, I needed to be back in school on Tuesday.

But again, Ronald's plans were always fluid. Instead of driving me home, he decided he'd stay in Jax a few more days. So he bought me a one-way ticket on Eastern Airlines. At least he did park and wait with me at the gate until flight time. While waiting at our gate, he nudged me and said "Recognize those two?". I wasn't sure who he was referring to as I scanned around. Finally he pointed "Right there. It's Junior Johnson and Cale."

Suddenly it was an oh yeah! moment - yet I just sat there. I had the opportunity the meet Cale at my first Cup race at Nashville in 1978. But because he dominated for the win and because I'd drawn a bead on getting to the 43, I passed up my shot. In February 1980, I passed on the opportunity again. I still was no big fan of that 3x champion. I recall Ronald laughing as he said I may be taking my Petty loyalism a little too far.

TMC

February 8, 1964 - Another Petty Daytona win

All true Petty fans, most NASCAR fans, and even several racing novices know Richard Petty won his first of seven Daytona 500s in 1964. He started from the front row alongside Paul Goldsmith and went on to dominate the 500.

A somewhat hidden piece of history, however, is how the front row was determined that year. Goldsmith and Petty laid down the quickest laps with their Plymouths and newly unveiled Hemi engines during qualifying on Friday, February 7. Prior to 1964 and in each year after 1964, the top two speeds guaranteed the top two starters for the 500.

Source: Asheville Citizen-Times

A new wrinkle, however, was added in 1964. The odd and even numbered qualifiers from Friday raced in twin 50-mile races on Saturday, February 8. The winners of the two races secured the top two starting positions. Goldsmith and Petty won their respective twin, so it worked out that the two quickest cars did earn the front row. Had the duo NOT won their races, however, they would have had to earn their spots in the traditional 100-mile twins held a few days before the 500.

Source: The Greenville News

Though the 100-mile twins counted in the pre-Winston era as official races, the 1964 50-mile pole races did not. (Nor did other Daytona 500 consolation and Firecracker qualifying races held between 1959 and 1967.) So add another win to Richard's list of Daytona accomplishments - especially when the media compares Earnhardt's Clash, twins, IROC, and other non-GN/Cup Daytona wins to the King.

Source: Daytona Beach Morning Journal

In his 100-mile qualifying twin, Petty ran out of gas coming to the checkers allowing Bobby Isaac squeak by for the win and Jimmy Pardue in second. If someone other than Isaac had won the 50-mile race, King may well have started 8th vs. 2nd in the 500. With Petty's domination in the 500, however, it likely didn't matter where the 43 started - though his number of laps led may have decreased by a couple.

TMC

TMC Racing Stories: Daytona 2

Some have wondered.
Some have guessed.
I've shared with some.
Others couldn't give a rip.

But here goes.

I've blogged a handful of times about one of my uncles introducing me to racing back in 1974. He took me to my first late model sportsman race and first Cup race - both at Nashville's Fairgrounds Speedway. He also took me to my first Daytona 500 in 1980. Other than those occasions, however, we didn't go to many races together.

Another uncle - the youngest of the four siblings - invited us to Daytona in 1991 for the annual Pepsi err Firecracker 400. I had been the previous couple of years with different friends, but this was to be the my first race with three of my uncles.

My oldest uncle rode with me. Ronald - the one that intro'd me to racing - drove separately with my cousins in his Camaro. We stayed together pretty closely on the trip from Tennessee to Jacksonville on Friday. Not a bad pace - 70-75 most of the way. Until.

We got to Lake City FL and knew the next milestone was the Duval County / Jacksonville city limits line. As we approached it, both of us amp'd the speed a bit more. As we got well into the county and close to Orange Park, we were both flying. (Not advised kids.) I was in front of him and blocking by switching lanes on I-295.

But I deked when I should've juked, and he re-passed me as we hit the Buckman Bridge over the St. John's River. The bridge was a no-passing zone back then. But I swung around another car, passed Ronald, and moved back in front of him as we exited the interstate on the other side of the bridge. I held the lead until we got to my uncle's house, and my oldest uncle and I declared ourselves the winners. My cousins immediately howled in protest about my no-pass zone infraction. Either way, we knew a great weekend was about to unfold.

We headed for Daytona early Saturday to make the mid-morning green flag. Many today frequently pine for a return to that tradition. Those that do so either (1) have never experienced it or (2) have forgotten what it was like. It was beyond hot. We may well have been halfway to Hades after having interstate-raced the night before.

But...we were there.

Let's see...

Chilled adult beverages? Perhaps a few
Sunscreen - scant
Water - zero

I honestly remember little of the race except for Awful Bill from Dawsonville winning in his blue Coors Light Ford and the bad wreck involving Joe Ruttman and Darrell Waltrip.

As you may have rightfully surmised, I wasn't a big fan of Elliott back in the day. One of my uncle's friends who went with us and his young son, however, were big Elliott homers, and they were elated. The kid gloated all the way back to Jax as the rest of us continued consuming the remaining inventory of the coolers.

Once home, someone had the lame-brained idea of playing basketball on my uncle's concrete driveway. Frequent replenishment with Gatorade? Umm, not exactly - unless Stokely Van Camp had a Bud flavored one.

My oldest uncle had a belly as big as west Texas and sported a shirt the size of Rhode Island. He acted as if he had the game of Lebron James, but his hoop skills were much closer to those of Etta James. The rest of us just flopped around, missed shots, paused to take a swig, and fell down...a lot.

I spent as much time lifting myself from the scorching concrete as I did with my ferocious defense on an uncle or cousins who by now were beginning to look a lot alike and starting to replicate in numbers. At some point, I collided with Ronald and went to the deck.

As we sweated, laughed and burned, the 12 year-old Bill Elliott fan stood over me after one of my falls and declared with resignation: "Mr. Chase, who know what your problem is? You're full of too much country."

I have no idea where he came up with that - and really wasn't sure at the time what he even meant. But I started laughing and then embraced it. I got up, tousled his hair, and replied "Ya know Nic, you got that right. I am full of too much country."

Nic the Elliott fan at Talladega two races later

Over time, I've defined the label as I've seen fit. I've embraced it as as a compliment, accept it as an insult, and often see it in others.

In May 2016, I met Darrell Waltrip in Charlotte coming down the Smith Tower elevator following Thursday night qualifying for the Coke 600. I'd met Ol' DW before but re-intro'd myself. I said "We've met before DW, but my name is Chase. You've seen me on Twitter as toomuchcountry." He paused and joked for the benefit of others on the elevator "Hmm, I didn't think there was such a thing as too much country." I held our shake an extra moment, maintained eye contact and replied "Yes, there is...and No, there isn't."

A quarter-century and then some ago. Wow. I've watched many races since then. I'm now more diligent about using sunscreen, my water intake is much higher, I consume far fewer cans of Schaefer, and I haven't raced to a race since July 1991.

And now you know the origin of toomuchcountry.

TMC

TMC Racing Stories: Daytona 1

Trying to convince someone to give racing a shot is challenging when the other person stubbornly rejects pretty much anything outside of baseball, football, and hoops.

When two friends and I got an apartment in college, the arguments soon started about the legitimacy of racing, identification of drivers as athletes, my "misplaced" fandom, etc. Some got pretty heated, but most just involved good-natured ribbing.

One of the two friends and I continued sharing an apartment after graduation. Some of the banter continued, but I tried a different angle. I suggested he put his money where his mouth was: Go to a race and see if you don't return with a changed opinion.

Initially, he didn't take the bait. But then Ken Schrader's Red Baron Ford caught his eye during the 1987 Firecracker 400 on TV.

We lived on frozen pizza, Rotel tomato cheese dip, and cereal in the apartment, so Schrader's sponsor was right in his wheel house. Soon after, he softened his stance. "Let's go."

When the next year's Firecracker rolled around, he and I made the drive from Chattanooga to Daytona. Schrader had moved to another red car. He was out of Junie Donlavey's #90 Ford and into Rick Hendrick's #25 Folger's Coffee Chevy. By then, however, he was a Schrader guy regardless.

He took a VHS camcorder and made his way to the fence on the final pace lap as the cars came out of turn 4 to the tri-oval. He glanced back at me as the drivers prepared to hammer down, shrugged his shoulders, and sneered as if to say "not impressed".

I waved him back and mouthed "Just watch!" Ignoring the Barney Fife Security Force's admonition to move away from the fence, he stayed as the cars came up to speed in turn 1.

When they roared through 4 at speed, he quickly lowered his camcorder and instinctively snagged his cap as the wind tried to make off with it. He then slowly turned back towards me, smiled broadly, and mouthed "I. Like. This."

While he never became a rabid NASCAR fan, he certainly became much more interested in it. After his debut at Daytona, he went with me a couple of times to Talladega and once to Atlanta - where he got to see Schrader win in the Kodiak Chevy in 1991.

Concerned about TV ratings or attendance for NASCAR events? Have a friend or family member skeptical about racing? Know someone who enjoys racing but has never experienced the thrill of being at the track? Invite them!

TMC

Schaefer Year in Review: 2016

The Schaefer Hall of Fame and Ring of Honor - a bunch of good-time-havers and ne'er-do-wells - once again had a fantastic year of fun. As best I can tell, The SHOF and SROH were represented at eight NASCAR Cup races, the Daytona qualifying twins, the All Star Race, and a handful of cable-company and truck division races.

The year started with a bang at the Daytona 500. For the first time since 1997, Schaefer HOF co-founder Philly and I were in the seats. Unlike 20 years ago, our experience was on a much grander scale - but with little out-of-pocket spend.

Good fortune plopped us into a friend's winter home free o'charge. No flea bag inn. No overpriced hotel. FREE! - the favorite price of the SHOF. After our arrival on Thursday, we dropped our gear, celebrated with a quick cold one, and made our way to the track.

It was quite the sight to see and experience the completed Daytona Rising renovated facility.

It was also cool to see the twins for the first time on a balmy Florida night.

On Friday, we headed to what has become one of our favorite spots in the area: Racing's North Turn on the beach in Ponce Inlet. The food is fantastic, the service is very polite and prompt, the view is spectacular, the racing history is rich, and the brews are ice cold.

Though the North Turn doesn't serve Schaefer, they do sell good times - and interesting coincidences. After I tweeted the following picture of our beachfront scenery, a guy walked from just a few chairs from us.

"Are you toomuchcountry?"
"Umm, yeah. I guess you'd say that. Why?"
"Holy cow, I only follow about 20 people on Twitter - and you're one of them. I saw your tweet and that Starters koozie. Figured it had to be you."

On our way out the door, we noticed an elderly gentleman signing books and shaking hands at a table near the front door. I stopped to talk with him and learned he was Russ Truelove. Russ is from the northeast and still lives there. In the 1950s, however, he made a handful of trips to Daytona to run the famed beach and road course.

After I returned a bit of history knowledge of my own, Russ realized I wasn't there to simply get a selfie with someone I thought might be famous. He took me to his restored race car outside, and we had a great conversation for about 20 minutes. We chatted about Fish carburetors, the process for measured mile qualifying on the beach, car owner Carl Kiekhaefer (which coincidentally rhymes with Schaefer), how he got number #226, etc.

He also talked about his tremendous tumble on February 26, 1956. #226 flat wiped out on 2/26.

After concluding a fun encounter with Russ, we headed back to the house before we got wiped out at the North Turn. Once home, we found the rest of our crew had rolled in. They were prepared for a night of fun - which we had. The good times, of course, started with a Schaefer.

On race day, we felt the palm fronds provided an element of dignity and class to our tailgating set-up. Don't think so? Well then, that's a you problem.

Though a fair argument can be made that racing is better at other tracks, few if any compete with the sheer speed and spectacle of Daytona.

As has been the case for many years, the Schaefer Hall of Fame and Ring of Honor were well represented at Charlotte's version of Speedweeks in May.

Woodhead, 2015 Schaefer Ring of Honor inductee, enjoyed Schaefer at the NASCAR All Star Race the week before the Coca-Cola 600.

We enjoyed hot passes for the 600 weekend thanks to a new acquaintance of SHOFer Cuba. Like many of us, Cuba usually just settles in before a plane's departure. But on a flight from Texas to North Carolina, he struck up a conversation with his seatmate. After some small talk, bada bing, bada boom, he learned his seatmate was involved with NASCAR. A couple of days later, he arranged for Cuba and his contingent to get hot passes for the weekend. Mighty fortuitous.

Though plenty of other drink options were available, Schaefer had its own dedicated cooler. And what better way to identify the designated cooler than with bacon tape!

Schaefer is the perfect thirst quenching complement to a good ol' fashioned low country boil.

Among our new guests at the 600 in 2016, was SHOFer Rookie's Uncle Joey. Though he was new to our group and a Cup track, he arrived ready to roll with his Kyle Busch swag.

Hard to believe 2017 will the 25th anniversary of the launch of the Schaefer tradition and resulting SHOF and SROH. Some mighty good friendships have been developed with this crowd.

Rookie wasted no time after the 600 in continuing the Schaefer tradition at the beach near Wilmington NC with a few of his friends.

One of the challenges for the SHOF is the increasing scarcity of Schaefer. I don't travel as much as I once did; therefore, opportunities to bootleg Schaefer in a suitcase have dwindled significantly. Both Bruton and Philly, however, were able to leverage their far-reaching networks to have folks bring the Schaefer to them in 2016.

Schaefer isn't all about racing. Schaefer Hall of Famers often find other varied ways to enjoy it. For instance, Bruton enjoyed Schaefer on the links...

...out on the boat dropping a line...

...and on opening day of Georgia Bulldogs football season.

Though Schaefer isn't all about racing, who's kidding who. It's mainly about racing.

Four SHOFers returned to Daytona for July's Coke 400.

This guy wouldn't sit down and kept blocking my view. I started to have a word with him. But since he was a fellow SHOFer, I let it slide.

Labor Day weekend was a true treat for me. From the mid 1980s through 2000, I went to a handful of races that were tagged as part of the Winston Million incentive program. As tough as it was for a driver to win 3 of the 4 biggies, it was even tougher for me to attend 3 of the 4.

The program has long been discontinued, but I accomplished my own version of winning the Winston Million in 2016 by attending the Daytona 500, Coca-Cola 600, and the Southern 500 at Darlington. I embraced the old school, throwback theme for the weekend by breaking out some old racing gear from days gone by.

I'd only been to one other race at Darlington, and the 2016 Southern 500 was my first legit Labor Day weekend race at the track. Adding to the excitement was our privilege to walk the garage and pits from stem to stern both days.

The highlight of our walkabout was easily meeting Leonard, Delano, Len and Eddie Wood and Richard and Kyle Petty.

And as icing on the cake, we also ran into 8-time Cup champion crew chief and NASCAR Hall of Famer Dale Inman. None of these encounters had anything to do with Schaefer, but the chance to chat a bit with so many legends ranks right up there with it.

With a few hours to kill before the green flag on Sunday, we returned to our parking spot. A couple of racing and Schaefer noobs parked behind us, and we soon struck up a conversation. They earned a rookie stripe for attending their first race.

We also introduced them to Schaefer. They almost forfeited the opportunity to drink it when one of them said "Never heard of it. Is it a microbrew?"

Their response after a first taste? Same one as we get time after time. "Hmm. It's not that bad."

With our hospitality out of the way, it was soon time to go racing boys! We hiked our sun-scorched selves to our seats near the start-finish line and settled in for an evening of racing dominated by Martin Truex Jr. 

Again with this guy! Dude! Please sit down.

"Oh my bad. Need a fresh Schaefer?"

The only currently active father-son, SHOF / SROH combo - Philly and Woodhead - took in the action.

Traveling light, we didn't have the set-up for another low-country boil. As a substitute, some homemade pork rinds washed down well with a cold Schaef.

A few weeks after Darlington, Schaefer Ring of Honor member 200WINZ had the good fortune to run into his longtime idol, The King, at dinner before the fall Dover race.

As the calendar turned to October, the Schaefer HOF had somewhat of an impromptu Most Photogenic contest. Thoughts on a winner?

SHOFer Philly & Lanie at the fall Charlotte race?

...or SHOFer Rookie and Uncle Joey at Talladega? Yikes.

The SHOF closed its 2016 racing adventures with a trip to Martinsville - my first race at the paperclip. As we roamed the garage on Saturday, we had the good fortune to cross paths with Dale Inman again. He, Maurice Petty, and Kyle Petty had been inducted into the Randleman High School Athletic Hall of Fame the night before, and Dale was proudly sporting the ring presented to him.

Though not on our original agenda, we called an audible and chose to hit Saturday's truck race. Cold morning temps rose to reveal a spectacular fall afternoon for racing.

On Sunday morning, we enjoyed a cold one with some folks from South Boston, Virginia...

...and enjoyed it again ourselves high atop the grandstands.

With the racing season completed, I made my annual trip to Newark NJ and New York City. Once again, I enjoyed a Schaefer at The Liberty NYC - just a few clicks from Madison Square Garden and Penn Station. As I ordered it, the bartender said I looked familiar. I told her I'd stopped in a year earlier to enjoy one. Shockingly, she replied "Yeah! You're the guy that travels all over trying to find Schaefer. I remember you!"

I did a bit of research a couple of nights later and learned The Greene Hook in Jersey City had Schaefer as a beer offering. Though I wasn't sure how current the menu was, I figured it was worth an Uber ride to find out. Sure enough, they had several in the chiller. The Schaef was a nice addition to one of their fantastic burgers and fries.

The Schaefer Hall of Fame and Ring of Honor hopes you had a wonderful Christmas and New Year.

With the calendar now turned to 2017, let's enjoy a new batch of memories with the recently re-branded NASCAR Schaefer Cup... I mean Monster Energy Cup Series.

As always, please let me know if you see Schaefer for sale - or being enjoyed by yourself or others. Reply with a comment here, hit me on Twitter, or email me at toomuchcountry(at)gmail(dot)com.

TMC