Alan Decker for The New York Times
HOT WHEELS Tires are spun to heat them for better traction at RaceLegal, part of San Diego's effort to curb street racing.
SAN DIEGO
MOST days, Qualcomm Stadium, which the San Diego Padres departed earlier this year, sits empty, the only sounds the steadily blowing wind and the occasional clatter of the overhead shuttle from downtown, ghostlike, carrying no passengers.
But on a recent Friday afternoon, the silence was broken by the rumble of engines as cars and motorcycles of every description began to pull into the parking lot, past a sign that read: "RaceLegal Welcomes You — racing 6PM-midnite. Racers $20, spectators $5." Two by two they arrived. Turbo Mitsubishis and Subarus, stripped-down Honda Civics, Volvos, Dodge Vipers, Chevy pickups, slammed — low to the ground — Acuras as well as muscle cars like Mustang Mach I's with shaker hoods and Chevelle SS396 coupes. A 1971 V-8 Camaro was alongside a Nissan Sentra riding on dubs — those flashy oversize wheels.
They had come to face off on a four-lane, one-eighth-mile drag strip, hitting speeds of as high as 112 miles an hour, while crowds cheered. And all of it was completely legal, sanctioned by the city and paid for by a grant from the California Office of Traffic Safety. There were even emergency medical technicians standing by.
RaceLegal, begun in San Diego in 1998, is one of a growing number of programs around the country aimed at removing illegal drag racers from the streets. At Indianapolis Raceway Park, as many as 400 cars a night have been turning out to go head to head at Midnight Madness events, while Midnight Mayhem races at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway also draw hundreds of competitors a night. Many race nights are part of the National Hot Rod Association Street Legal program, founded in 1994.
While there is no national clearinghouse for statistics on illegal street racing, law enforcement officials nationwide say it has become a serious problem, spurred by the popular "Fast and Furious" movies, as well as the dub culture of tuners who trick out cars with lowered suspensions, nitrous fuel systems and straight exhausts. According to the Florida Department of Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles, for instance, there were 82 reported illegal street racing accidents in 2003, up from 28 in 1999. Motor vehicle crashes are by far the leading cause of deaths among 13- to 19-year-olds in the United States, according to the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, which reported that 5,933 teenagers died in motor vehicle crashes in the nation in 2002.
In San Diego, street racing "was an epidemic, and I'm an epidemiologist," said Stephen Bender, a retired professor of public health at San Diego State University who founded RaceLegal. "We had to do something." Dr. Bender said that on a Friday or Saturday night there would be 1,000 or more cars racing and 4,000 or so spectators at a half dozen sites in the city alone. Across San Diego County in 2002, 14 teenagers were killed and 31 injured in street racing crashes, according to Linda Peter, deputy city attorney in San Diego. "Our rate was 49 kids killed or injured for every 1,000 kids street racing," Dr. Bender said.
At first, racers were reluctant to go to Qualcomm and pay to race, Dr. Bender said, especially when they could race on the streets for free. Then, he said, a light went off — something was needed to make street racing costly. So San Diego tightened its laws and in September 2000 formed the police Drag-Net Unit. The undercover operation began videotaping street races, then showing up at racers' houses accompanied by tow trucks and the media.
"We handcuff them, put them in jail, impound the car for 30 days for $1,000, suspend their licenses for one year, fine them $1,500 and put two points on their license," said Sgt. Greg Sloan, head of the unit. "If the car's been modified, a smog ticket could be issued for $400 for each modification. If you get caught street racing for a second time, your car is forfeited forever — even if it's your parents' or a rental — and you get jail time. Spectators get a fine of $1,000 or six months' jail time."
Ms. Peter said that 290 cases were prosecuted under the law in 2001. The number, she said, fell to 155 in 2002 and 60 in 2003. The penalties for spectators, she said, made a big difference. Eleven spectators were prosecuted in 2003, all at one event. One challenged the law, but it was upheld.
"Now that we have a closed-loop system, including enforcement and a legal outlet, we've had a real turnaround," said Lydia DeNecochea, program director of RaceLegal. In 2003, street racing deaths dropped countywide to 4 and injuries to 6. So far in 2004, there have been no deaths in the city, with 3 across the county and 15 injuries.
By 6 p.m. at Qualcomm a double line of cars formed at the RaceLegal technical inspection area, where cars were examined for safety and licenses and helmets (required) were presented. Many drivers were former street racers with stories of crashes and friends who were lost. Awaiting inspections, they milled around their cars in sandals, sneakers and baggy pants, high-fived one another and made challenges for the night's racing.
RACERS and passengers signed liability waivers, and car numbers were assigned. Cars, about 300 in all on this night, waited their turn at the twin two-lane drag strips along the stadium's west access road. A symphony of exhausts overtook the sound of the wind, along with rap and hip-hop coming from huge speakers.
As the first cars lined up and burned in their tires — spinning them to warm them for better traction — acrid smoke billowed upward. Drivers edged up to the starting line and watched the "Christmas tree," with its series of lights progressing from red through yellows and then to green. Departing the line before the green meant being "red lighted" for a loss. Engines revved as the Christmas tree counted down, and cars took off on the strip side by side in billowing clouds of tire smoke.
At the end of the strip, cars braked hard and then made two right turns to enter a return lane, parallel to the right lane. Officials handed drivers their timing slips, telling them just how fast they'd raced the eighth of a mile. About 1,500 spectators bordered the lanes at Qualcomm. Children sat in strollers or on parents' shoulders. Gawkers gathered around open hoods.
Racers challenged each other, then went back for another try. Some race as many as 40 times in a night. Monica Mendiola stood out not just because she was one of the few women drivers. In a sea of slammed hatchbacks, her huge black 2003 Mercedes AMG V-8, a factory hot rod with 493 horsepower, 19-inch black dubs and racing seats was a standout. Her husband, C. J., also races at Qualcomm, and they run a body shop in San Diego. "I'm a racer at heart" she said, before her first race of the night. "Been street racing since back in the 80's with my Isuzu and ran from the cops a lot. But it's dangerous, and I'm here for fun."
By 8 o'clock, Ms. Mendiola had already beaten Jesus Galvan's 2003 Mustang Cobra by 1.5 seconds. "I missed the shift to third," said Mr. Galvan, a 29-year-old electronics technician. "I'm asking her for a rematch." They went at it again.
At about 9 o'clock, Anthony Mannero put his 1976 "Starsky & Hutch" Ford Gran Torino up against the San Diego Police Department's Code 4 vehicle, an Oldsmobile racer painted like a patrol car, complete with lights on top. (In police lingo, Code 4 means "situation stable, slow everyone down."
Whoever can beat the Code 4, which has a nitrous oxide injection system for extra power, wins a T-shirt bearing the words "Race With the Cops." The driver, Shane Pulido, is a rock drummer and former street racer. In February 2002, Mr. Pulido, 29, was arrested for racing his 1966 Dodge, which the police impounded, and he was sentenced to work with the Code 4 car. "I street raced since I was 16, every week," Mr. Pulido said. "I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for RaceLegal."
As the cars rumbled to the line and burned their tires in, the drivers glared at each other in combat mode. At the starting line, Mr. Pulido skillfully anticipated the green, hitting the accelerator at the end of the yellow, and getting a jump on Mr. Mannero. Blasting down the strip, the two cars went wheel to wheel. Then suddenly both drivers hit the brakes. Less than 10 seconds after it began, the race was over and the drivers picked up their timing slips. There would be no T-shirt for Mr. Mannero this Friday night.