I signed into the KC one since I live near there.... It was a waste of time though...
So nobody else has to waste 30 seconds of their lives here it is:
Mercedes-Benz and a Trans Am line up on a dark, desolate stretch of Missouri 150 in south Kansas City. Side by side, their engines rev.
The scents of burnt rubber and gasoline fill the air.
It's just after 2 a.m. on a recent Saturday. As most of the city sleeps, this crew of street racers — a group that crosses many demographics — gathers to compete for bragging rights.
The flagger raises an arm as the drivers inch to the start line. He quickly lowers his arm, and the cars tear off. Both vehicles zoom east a quarter of a mile, exceeding 100 mph.
A flash rips from the exhaust pipe of the Trans Am, driven by 18-year-old Brandon Hough. The crowd cheers as the Benz wins.
“I must've backfired that boy. I guess I shot flames,” says Hough, of Lee's Summit.
The scene replays itself almost every weekend in Kansas City. Wherever there are long strips of sparsely traveled roads, street racers meet to see who has the fastest wheels.
Street racing has never been more popular — or more dangerous. There have been few accidents, but police connect a Northland fatality that occurred a year ago to the activity.
Street racing's growing lure has pushed police to organize undercover stings to stop an illegal and dangerous pastime that occurs mostly at night and on weekends. They hover in nearby buildings, videotaping the activity.
After a few races, plainclothes and uniformed officers swoop in to make arrests and issue summonses. Police give tickets to spectators just for watching. Kansas City police this year have issued more than 130 citations.
Unlike the street racing of decades ago, new technology — the kind that enhances speed — is making it even more dangerous, officials say. And new technology — the kind that brings people together through the Internet and cell phones — is attracting scores of spectators.
“Safety is the main issue, and we're trying to either move it to a safer location or eliminate it,” says Maj. John Armilio, commander of the North Patrol Division. “Our goal is to stop the activity in Kansas City so no one dies.”
***
The crowds thrive on late-night adrenaline. The drivers' ages range from late teens to the 50s. On a recent night, the crowd included several elementary-age children.
They meet in areas such as Front Street near the Missouri River, the Fairfax district in Kansas City, Kan., stretches of Missouri 210 in the Northland, and strips in south Johnson County on Lackman Road.
“This is something that isn't going away,” says Bob Zerba, a 38-year-old Kansas City father of five who races and works for a flooring company. “They (police) do whatever they want, but we're still going to be out there.”
Crowds follow the racers from site to site. They may never get behind the wheel, but spectators say the excitement attracts them.
A crew member, Johnny Reed of Raymore, says street racing would be less of a problem if there were a place open after 10 p.m., when one of the city's popular racetracks, Kansas City International Raceway, closes.“We just need someplace to go. We've tried all of the legal routes,” says Reed, 32, who works for a nonprofit agency. He and his wife, Holly, have competed in sanctioned races.
Street racing in Kansas City has evolved into a subculture, police say. And with movies such as “The Fast and the Furious” and its sequel, “2 Fast 2 Furious,” the activity's popularity is surging among teens and young adults.
Web sites and Internet message boards focus on the local scene. Street racers share information about speed-enhancing modifications. Some sites have video links of local races.
Street racers travel in caravans, roaming dark industrial roads for the perfect spot. They talk on the Internet, cell phones and two-way radios.
They invest big bucks in their cars. Some vehicles boast expensive new technology, such as nitrous oxide kits, that can make a Honda Civic twice as fast.
“I want to test my level (of racing) to see where I'm at against other people,” says Victor Perez, 17, who next fall will be a senior at Olathe North High School. “You race for pride. It feels good when you win, but when you lose, it just makes you go and try harder.”
Street racers say their goal is to reach the end of the quarter mile in less than 12 seconds.
When he races, Zerba says, “as long as I don't see the other guy, I'm happy.”
***
On a recent night, street racers gather in an empty parking lot on Noland Road in Independence. After an hour of swapping stories and waiting for others, they head to a convenience store near Interstate 435 and Front Street and then to another location at 12th and Liberty streets in the West Bottoms.
The parking lot there takes on a carnival-like atmosphere with a sea of modified cars — Honda Civics, Nissan Maximas, Toyota Celicas, Mitsubishi Eclipses and others. One vehicle quickly catches everyone's attention: a gray Dodge Viper with slicks — illegal race tires that have little or no tread.
Many in the crowd puff on Marlboros and down cans of Mountain Dew or bottles of noncarbonated energy drinks.
The crowd includes teens, young men and women. Some look under hoods and peek inside vehicles to check out the latest modifications and newest gadgets. The noise of pounding stereos, screeching tires and thunderous engines occasionally echoes off nearby buildings.
“It's time to go,” someone announces. Racers and spectators hop in their cars and head toward Johnson County, where they hope to catch a few races.
Before long, a trail of cars more than a mile long rolls on Interstate 35. Several cars weave from lane to lane, and there is a near accident.
Once in Lenexa, the action appears ready to begin until someone notices a Lenexa police car ease into the parking lot.
“Five-O! Five-O!” shout several spectators, running to their cars.
The crowd quickly disperses.
***
Zerba says that although street racing is illegal, what happens on most weekend nights is fairly tame. His group tries to dissuade spectators and new racers from getting out of hand. Occasionally a fight escalates and someone pulls out a gun or other weapon.
But those incidents are uncommon, he says.
“We don't want to draw any attention,” Zerba says.
Keith Johnsgard, an author and retired professor of clinical and sports psychology at San Jose State University, has studied sensation-seekers, including race drivers. He says those who street race probably are biologically predisposed to take high risks.
“These individuals are often understimulated, and they get the sensation either by driving real fast, skydiving, climbing mountains or breaking the law,” Johnsgard says. “They might be trying to prove something to a girlfriend or something, but once they get older they tend to move on to something else.”
While no one compiles national statistics on street racing fatalities, the activity's danger is apparent, says Elly Martin, spokeswoman for the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration.
“It is extremely dangerous, and many of these events are planned and not spontaneous,” Martin says. “It underscores the likelihood of teenagers, especially males, engaging in high-risk driving behavior and aggressive driving, and it can have heartbreaking results for the families and the peers of the young people who die in these crashes.”
Martin says participants sometimes don't believe they risk injury or death.
The danger “is not real to them as it is to older people,” she says.
Across the metropolitan area, police agencies from Kansas City, Kan., to Overland Park to Lee's Summit have had to deal with street racing and accompanying complaints from residents and business owners.
In Johnson County, four-lane divided thoroughfares — such as those along 135th Street between Metcalf Avenue and Renner Road — have drawn young drivers and motorcyclists looking to race late at night, says Capt. Bob Kolenda of Overland Park's traffic safety unit.
***
“We're headed to Wal-Mart (near 135th Street and State Line Road),” Zerba announces. “It's a safe zone. The cops can't touch us if the store is open.”
There, Brandon Hough sizes up the competition. Street racers usually compete with cars that are similar in make and model, he says.
“Hey, you wanna race me?” Hough asks another driver. Suddenly, several cars peel out of the Wal-Mart parking lot and head to a dark stretch of road near Missouri 150 and Wyandotte Street.
Moments before they race, others make sure the action isn't interrupted by oncoming traffic.
After several races, it's Hough's turn. He pulls his Trans Am to the start line.
The flagger raises and lowers his arm, and the cars take off.
After the race, someone sees a Kansas City patrol car.
“Five-O! Five-O!” several in the crowd shout.
The crowd quickly scatters. For this night, racing is over.
To reach Glenn E. Rice, call
(816) 234-5908 or send e-mail
to
[email protected].
By Glenn E. Rice***8194; • ***8194;Photos by Chris Oberholtz ***8194; • ***8194; The Kansas City Star
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the law
• Most cities have ordinances prohibiting street racing and being spectators.
• In Kansas City, a person who is cited can be fined up to $500 and/or be sentenced to 180 days in jail by a municipal judge.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
