It was a spectacular day. The sky was bright and clear. The wind and the temperature were perfect. All the planning and engineering had been carefully completed, and everything was set for a championship downhill run. The crowd had already decided on its favorite and waited in nervous anticipation for the starter’s signal. Now was the moment. It all came down to this: who would master the challenge of The Pine Tree Festival Soap Box Derby?
Then, we were off! I shook my head as I sat safely in my recliner this past weekend, marveling at the” courage” required to attempt this daring feat. Oh yes, I remember the exhilaration of imminent danger you felt as you tempted fate zooming down Pine Street at speeds that seemed harrowing to us, but were actually closer to that of ancient turtles, large glaciers or girls who had just gotten roller skates for their birthday. The neighborhood dogs, who had earlier comprised the spectator corps began running round and round in circles barking in unknown tongue as the excitement of the situation washed over them. In and out of the pack, my trusty soap box racer charged ahead. I could tell I had good time because the dogs were now trying to bite my tires. Suddenly as I looked up, I could see the finish line right there at the bottom of the hill at the old City Pool, and I imagined the glory that would soon be mine. That was the moment I realized that disaster was riding right there with me. Tragically, just as victory came within my grasp, one of my brand-new ball bearing wheels, purchased from Smith and Spivey Hardware with my savings from my boiled peanuts business at the Bone Yard, suffered a catastrophic failure. The wheel left my sleek soap box and went skimming across the Boatwright’s front yard. It was obviously sabotage or possibly a defective bolt made in Japan. My soapbox racer lay crippled on the track within crawling distance of the finish line, and as I watched the other contestants unceremoniously pass by, I said adieu to my racing career. I turned my attention back to 2026 and the bobsled competition. The USA teams had dropped out of the running and the Germans ended up taking the Olympic medals. “Ah yes, my friends I too have tasted the bitter fruit of defeat.”
Though the years wear away at the accuracy, I would describe the story of this experience to be “mostly true”, and as you might imagine, it was as close as I would ever get to competing in the two-man bobsled competition at the Olympics. We all have our dreams, and although I have never been within solar system distance of competing in any sport, I have always enjoyed watching the bobsled competition at every winter Olympics. Back in the late 1950s, the Pine Tree Soap Box Derby was a part of the festival. Over several years, it was held on different streets in town that had suitable hills, but it never seemed to catch on. Looking forward, in less than three months, the Pine Tree Festival will once again be celebrated as the oldest continuing festival in the state of Georgia. That is something this town can be proud of. So, if you start right now, you have plenty of time to get your soap box racer built. Or you can just do whatever your “recliner time” sends you racing to do.
