Quoted from bssbllr:Boy Scouts anybody? My dad I put the weight in the back of the car not knowing that it would have been better in the front to pull it down I believe. Didn’t fair all that well. But memories I have.
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Pinewood Derby. The memories.
The 1st place trophy is mine. But this car was not mine and did not win anything. This car is a memory holder.
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I was 9 years old. Lived an a small town that got a Cubs Scouts Chapter up and running. My dad was the laissez fair type who stayed out of my way and let me learn stuff on my own. He got me a Pinewood Derby kit and some hand tools. I remember I got a coping saw, a wood rasp and a couple of other items.
I went to work. I did minimal amount of woodwork to the car body. I rounded off the front corners and made boat tail rear end. Put these two racers together and brush on some white paint and you would be looking at the Pinewood car I built.
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I glued the wheels and the nail axles on with so much clearance that the wheels wobbled. They wobbled a lot. As Pinewood Derby went, mine was ugly. Actually, it was fugly.
The car you see is my childhood best friend's car. His dad had gas station with all of the tools. His dad built this car. It was pretty and the wheels rolled straight. And he added some lead shot to a hole he drilled in the back of the car.
On race night, my mom and his mom took the both of us to the clubhouse for the race. My dad was probably down at the bar with his drinking buddies and my friend's dad was just plain anti-social. So, we were two 9 year old cub scouts and their mom's heading off to the races.
We enter the clubhouse with all of these other people and all of these other cars. It was obvious that most of the scouts' fathers had built their nice slick looking Pinewood Derby cars with their nice two-tone paint jobs. But I built my own. My mom told me to not be disappointed if I did not win anything thing.
Long story short: My ugly little car with the wobbly wheels kicked the asses of all those dad-built cars. I remember watching my car keep destroying car after car on the 2-lane racetrack. I don't remember anything other than that. I do not remember being handed the trophy. The only other thing I remember is that my best friend copped an attitude and would not speak to me on the ride home.
The next year my mom and dad and I moved to the big city 30 miles distant. My friend and I stayed in touch through the years. Once in the city, I made new friends who were into model car kits. And I went that direction. And one day, I thought I would try and clean up the appearance of my ugly little Pinewood Derby car; I wound up destroying a winner. Mom told me that one day I would be sorry I did that.
I kept the cheap plaster of Paris trophy in a box of my stuff that lived in my mom's attic for a long number of years. And eventually my mom's prediction came true. Some where in my late 40s-early 50s I started missing my winning Pinewood Derby car.
A number of years ago, after my friend's dad had died, his mom called the auctioneers to come and sell 40 years worth of accumulation and trash. I drove down to the same town to see what was selling. Laying on one table of auction junk laid my friend's Pinewood Derby car. I am the sentimental type and he is/was not. I mentioned the little car and he asked if I would like to have it. I said "yes".
And this is how I would up with the winning trophy and a losing car.
If I still had my little car I would make a wall display with the car and trophy. As it is, I keep this car and the trophy in a drawer. Some things you cannot get back.
Thanks for the memories.
Wichita, KS
I don't have any of my old toys--and I had a few that have been posted here. 
It was to hang ON the tree. 
