A legend and his speedway

By Jim Huber, Turner Sports Interactive
July 31, 2001
3:58 PM EDT (1958 GMT)

NORTH WILKESBORO, N.C.—The meaty fingers gripped the steering wheel in the perfect driver’s position -- ten and two. The crystal blue eyes looked out from under wispy white eyebrows and scanned the decaying old track. Weeds were growing in cracks in the asphalt and the paint on the retaining walls was faded and peeling.

Jim Huber

"Used to be MY track," he drawled softly as he pulled the SUV through the open gate of the track where he’d won 18 times over the decades and onto the front stretch.

Junior Johnson did own that track, as David Pearson owned Charlotte and Dale Earnhardt owned Talladega.

The fact that Junior grew up just a few miles from here made it make sense. It’s where, legend has it, he ambled out from behind a plowing mule one day, barefooted, got behind the wheel of a racing machine and drove his first race.

First walled-in, turn-left race, that is. He’d run plenty as a kid through the windy backroads of the North Carolina foothills, delivering moonshine from his father’s stock, outrunning the feds.

On the way from his sprawling mansion to the track, he took me on a journey back in time, down those same treacherous roads.

"They used to set up road blocks up ahead," he chuckled, "cause they couldn’t catch me from behind. I heard about ‘em and usually found my way around ‘em. Never did catch me."

The story of Robert Glenn Johnson Jr. is well-told to the point of legend. You wonder how much is real, how much is varnish, until you happen upon the man hisownself. And when you stare into those eyes as he peers into the rear-view mirror, you know he’s spotted something or another.

Junior Johnson

"Used to get up to 150, 160, on the straight roads. Never scared, no. Nervous a lot but never scared."

We were there that day to shoot a feature newly-called "Legends of NASCAR" for TNT’s coverage and if ever there is that, it’s Junior Johnson. Which is why I had to constantly remind myself "hey, you know who’s DRIVING this car?"

Every time I spotted a dangerous curve ahead and wondered if this guy would brake soon enough, I repeated that to myself. Hey, you know who’s DRIVING??

If you didn’t know, however, you’d assume this was simply another North Carolina farm boy made good. The enormous mansion sits on 800 prime acres, inhabited by nearly as many black Angus. The pool out back looks like it should be in Las Vegas. He, in other words, has done well for himself.

"Yeah," he smiles softly, "the farm’s good, the ham company, the real-estate, all that stuff’s done good. In fact, I’ve probably made more money off the real-estate than anything."

But the ham factory is more fun. If you imagine riding around with Junior Johnson is mind-boggling, try having him lead you on a tour of his Junior Johnson-brand ham factory. A little slice here, a little in-bone there, all featuring that legendary face.

Pinch yourself. That’s Junior Johnson with a hairnet.

I’m not much of a celebrity hound. I’ve never collected autographs or stood in awe of many folks. But I must admit that the men from Junior’s era have always fascinated me, for they fought their way up, fought their way through, in a time when a buck was twenty cents and nothing much came easy.

So there I was. Well, you understand.

NOTE: Jim Huber's column appears each Tuesday on NASCAR.com. See Huber’s story on Junior Johnson Sunday, August 19th, during the pre-race show of TNT’s coverage from Michigan International Speedway.