North Wilkesboro: A town decimated without racing

By Marty Smith, Turner Sports Interactive
May 24, 2001
12:47 PM EDT (1647 GMT)

NORTH WILKESBORO, N.C. -- As I straddled the battle-scarred inside retaining wall on the frontstretch at North Wilkesboro Speedway Tuesday morning, I found myself consumed by the infinite level of excellence in my presence, yet simultaneously saddened by my desolate surroundings.

Marty Smith

North Wilkesboro, a once hallowed hall of NASCAR Winston Cup Series competition that in its annals holds some of NASCAR's most legendary tales of renown, now sits dormant, the town around it all but decimated by its demise.

"It's very sad to see it sitting idle like it is now, deteriorating, not being used," Junior Johnson, a Wilkes County native and true founding father of what NASCAR has become, said Tuesday morning. "It's almost like a graveyard for racing now."

Sadly enough, Johnson isn't kidding. His old stomping ground appears to have been stomped on by the 1.5-mile, multi-million dollar bullies that continue to pop up from coast-to-coast. Texas. Las Vegas. Kentucky. Kansas City. Chicagoland. The list expands each year, and the low market venues could soon drown in its wake.

"Before long, tracks like Darlington and Rockingham won't have a place anymore either," Johnson said. "I see racetracks that don't seat 200,000 people having a tough time making it in the future."

As I kicked it up I-77 Tuesday morning, I didn't quite know what to expect once I got to North Wilkesboro. I knew why I was going, to watch Darrell Waltrip shake down Johnson's old-school No. 11 Budweiser Chevrolet, the same one Ol' DW won three races with en route to the 1985 Winston Cup title.

In July, Waltrip will enter that ride in the Goodwood Festival of Speed in West Sussex, England, which from what I understand is some sort of high-falootin' road course race in some rich dude's driveway.

Brett Bodine took his first and only Winston Cup win at North Wilkesboro.

Anyway, after about three or four laps at a speed that wouldn't have even earned a citation, Waltrip decided it was time to open her up. The engine roared to life like a lion, then just as quickly fell as silent as a kitten.

Waltrip puked the motor, much to the amusement of everyone in attendance. Heck, it wasn't his fault, that car had been in the International Motorsports Hall of Fame in Talladega for the past 15 years.

During that time, North Wilkesboro had gone from one of NASCAR's healthiest venues to a race-starved town yearning to drink from the well of Winston Cup wealth.

"It's affected this town bad. Very bad," Johnson said. "A lot of business depended on this racetrack. This thing brought a lot of money into the county. It was connected with the Apple Festival. They'd have the Apple Festival on Saturday, the day before the race on Sunday, and they'd draw over 100,000 people.

"Now, they're lucky to get 30,000 fans. That shows what it's done to effect the county's economy. For the racetrack and the people here, there couldn't have been anything worse."

The entire Wilkes County community has taken a hit in the five years since NASCAR last rolled its circus into town. According to a lifetime resident of North Wilkesboro -- who wished to remain unnamed but knew Johnson quite well, therefore I believed his stories -- Wilkes County has suffered an average of $34 million per year in lost revenue since the track went under following the 1996 season.

He also said that Wilkes County had more millionaires per square mile than any other place in America, and while I failed to check that with the Commissioner of Revenue, I wouldn't doubt its validity. Lowe's Home Improvement Warehouse originated in Wilkes County, and those boys got some major loot.

Even so, it's hard to tell. I took a stroll through the town to check it out -- actually I got lost as heck going home -- and several businesses were closed down. The once-glorious racetrack is in shambles. How has it gotten to this point? Track owners Bruton Smith and Bob Bahre refuse to sell out, and therefore it sits idle with no current plans for operation.

The paint on the walls is chipped, the painted sponsor logos faded from red to an off-pink. One weathered logo painted on the wall read "First Union 400," a reminder of just how long ago the track closed. First Union has been out of the sport for quite some time. Grass peeked up through the cracks in the frontstretch, and as Waltrip coursed the half-mile oval, dirt and rocks from its surface flew everywhere.

Darrell Waltrip at North Wilkesboro in 1990

Still, the old-school appeal of North Wilkesboro was undeniable. To my right stood a grandstand complete with metal-backed chairs and blue staircases, giving it a quaintness not seen in today's towering metal bleachers. To my left was a lone building that served as the media center, the infield care center, the concession stand and Victory Lane all in one, and it wasn't even as big as my 998-square-foot apartment.

As I sat on that wall, a fierce wind stirred up around me, as if the ghosts of racing's past showed up to educate me on just how much this joint meant to the history of NASCAR. I figured there was no one better to ask than Johnson.

"This track was a founder, one of the two or three racetracks that got NASCAR off the ground," he said. "The history on this thing is unbelievable when you get down to what's gone on here and the people that's won races here and how it's got to be where it's at today. It's just sad that after all that's gone on, that it's not being raced at anymore."

Amen, brother.

Marty Smith's column appears every Thursday on NASCAR.com. The opinions listed here are solely those of the writer. To provide feedback to Marty, click here.