The lawn-mower racing at the Hillview Tavern in Esperance is no backyard affair.

Instead of grass, dirt flies, as souped-up machines—stripped of blades, chutes, and, for some, any resemblance to leisure-paced weekend trimmers—whip around a tight oval track at speeds rivaling that of the cars going by on Route 20.

Beyond the track, lawn mowers, pickup trucks, and trailers are spread out on the grass, as drivers and their friends frantically try to fine-tune their contraptions before their race begins. Friday-night bar patrons line a rope barrier, beer in hand, some gawking at the spectacle, others cheering for their favorite drivers.

To the members of the Northeast Lawn Mower Racing Association, this is serious stuff.
"I get people busting me all the time," said Brian Burkhart, a driver and vice president of the association. "They say, ‘Why do you waste your time" Why aren’t you racing cars"’"
To these men, the answer is that the excitement of lawn mower racing is like any other motor sport, minus the pricetag. "On any given week, I’ll spend about $20," Burkhart said.
Veteran racer Albert "Albie" Williams, who says he used to drag race at Fonda, said he just likes racing.
"I like competition," he said, before the deafening racket of a dozen lawn mower engines’ starting drowns out any further attempt at an interview.

Later, in his first heat, a mechanical problem forces Williams to miss the start of the race. He roars into action several laps behind the leaders, just to get on the track.
"Number 99 is back in the race," shouts announcer Daryl Cummings into the track’s loudspeaker.

Though the group members claim the Hillview Tavern as their home turf, they’re taking their show on the road this week and racing at the Altamont Fair. The race is on Saturday, at the grandstand, starting at 1 p.m.

Genesis at Cricketers Arms

Racing yard machines is a national phenomenon.
"Lawn mower racing has been in existence in America for a while," said Diane Butler, association president.

According to the U.S. Lawn Mower Racing Association, lawn mower racing began in England. At a pub called the Cricketers Arms, in Sussex, a group of men thought up the idea in 1973 after complaining about the cost of entry into the world of auto racing.

After a visit to England, an executive for the Gold Eagle Company, the maker of STA-BIL fuel stabilizer, held a race in Chicago in 1992 as a promotion for the product. Since then, the sport has spread across the county. Dozens of regional organizations have sprouted up.
Northeast Lawn mower Racing, Butler said, "was developed mostly for fun, and to raise money for fire departments." Lawn mower races were held as fund-raising events in the place of fire-department field days, she said.

In 1999, the racers broke away from a larger upstate organization to form a local association, drawing from the Capital Region and points west.

Not to be mistaken with go-kart racing, in which lawn mower engines are often used, lawn mower racers use the engine and chassis of a standard lawn mower.
"They have to be a stock mower as it comes off the assembly line," Butler said.

Out of the weeds, onto the racetrack

It’s unlikely, however, that any of these racers bought brand-new machines for racing purposes, or even bought them at all.
When asked where his lawn mower came from, racer John Aron said, "probably somebody’s backyard, stuffed in the weeds somewhere."
Other racers have found their vehicles at yard sales, junkyards, and along the side of the road with "free" signs. Then, to prepare their machines for racing, they do everything from widening the wheel base and installing faster transmissions, to painting racing decals on the sides.
"All they really need is an engine and a body," Butler said.

Depending on the size of the engine (from eight to 13 horsepower, Butler said) and how much the mowers have been changed, the association races in three divisions: stock, super stock, modified, and super modified.

Aron races the fastest class, super modified.
"The only thing left in this is the rear-end and the actual frame," Aron said. Though he hasn’t tested his current lawn mower, he said, his last machine was clocked at a top speed of 72 miles per hour. Before the race that night, he anticipated reaching only about 35 or 40 miles per hour on a track damp from rain.

Burkhart races in the super-stock division, where, he said, the mowers go about 25 to 30 miles per hour. A few years ago, he switched up to the modified division, but found he was happier with the stocks.
"Been there, done that," Burkhart said. "I didn’t care for it. I wasn’t competitive in it."

He is competitive in the super-stock division.
"I won the past two races," he said. Friday, Burkhart was looking for a third straight victory. In between his own races, he was manning the checkered flag.

Tall, thin, and tippy

Like any motorsport, lawn mower racing has its danger factor. Lawn mowers are tall and thin, and subject to tipping while going around turns. All the drivers The Enterprise talked to said they have tipped over more than once.

Racers lean against turns to stay upright, and wear helmets and neck braces in case of a fall.
"It’s all safe in how you do it," Burkhart said.

The racers keep safety in mind on the track, the men say.
"They’ll do anything they can to help each other stay safe," Williams said.

This is all part of the camaraderie the men share. Even though the races are very competitive, off the track Friday, the mood is light as drivers check out each others’ machines, and share beer and joking insults.

During a race, a rookie driver, in his first race, is forced off the track after his mower breaks down. He was leading until then.
"Good job, kid," says Cummings, the announcer, as the clearly disappointed rookie follows his machine as it’s pushed away.
"We’ll be seeing good things from him," Cummings tells the cheering crowd.