Leighty Racing Sprint Car Team

All of my racing at the beginning of my career was on Sunday afternoon dirt tracks without fences. In early 1968 we decided to try out pavement. My first pavement race would also be my first night race and first with a wall completely around the track. We towed to Salem, Oregon, and I felt like a duck out of water as the program got started. As the night went on, I began to feel more comfortable and seemed to be running better. By main event time it was completely dark and back in those days the lighting wasn't very good. The main event started and I got passed by a handful of cars, but then I settled in and seemed to be holding my own. In fact I could see the outline of car on my outside against the wall and hear a his motor and he wasn't gaining on me. I ran harder, but he stayed right there. We ran the rest of the race with me holding that guy off and feeling pretty good about my accomplishment. After the race I was asking who I'd had the great race with and everyone looked kind of funny at me. Ends up I'd ran most of the race all by myself, a fair distance back from the front cars, and about an equal distance ahead of the back of the pack cars finishing about 8th. I'd ended up running the entire race, racing my own shadow and motor echo.
But at least I held him off! 

Rick started right out in the Limited Modified without any other racing experience. It was his 3rd night of driving and he had been improving each night out but he still hadn't had a lot of close wheel to wheel action, so I decided I would help him along. We were in the same heat, Rick starting near the front and me starting last. Rick got out to the lead and after a couple of laps I caught him on the outside. We had distanced ourselves from the rest of the pack so I just stayed there on his outside, getting as close as I could. It didn't seem to be phasing Rick, in fact he was picking up the pace. My plan was to pass heading into 3 on the final lap since I knew I could get into the corner harder, but Rick got to feeling pretty confident and boiled it in harder than he ever had. He pushed up a little, we banged wheels, and away he went for his first victory of any kind. After the race Rick just smiled and said thanks for the help. He knew exactly what I'd been up to. That was the last time I ever gave the kid an inch.

In 1971, we were running for points at both Elma and Skagit. So, we were making the trip to Skagit every Friday night  and occasionally hitting Sky Valley on Saturday nights (this was before Skagit and Sky Valley switched days). Elma ran about twice a month on Sunday afternoons. Memorial Weekend and Labor Day Weekend, Skagit would also run a special Sunday night show and of course Elma raced on those Sundays. So, before Memorial Weekend, we talked to the Elma officials and they agreed to run the modifieds first and give any cars that wanted to head to Skagit a chance to get out of the pits before starting the jalopy main. The plan was set, we would run Skagit on Friday, Elma Sunday afternoon, and Skagit Sunday night. We headed to Skagit as usual on Friday, raced and stayed at Bub Beck's, but somewhere along the line we got talked into racing Sky Valley on Saturday and staying at Jerry McGrew's. Sunday, we made it to Elma, and everything worked out and we headed back to Skagit, pulled in just in time to qualify and run our 4th race in 3 days. We had a pretty good weekend finishing in the top 5 every race. It went so well, we decided to repeat the scenario on Labor Day weekend.

We used to flat tow the cars to the track when I first started. We had a tow bar that bolted onto the car and when we got home we would loosen the bolts and swing the tow bar up in front of the car and tighten the bolts so it didn't swing back down. Now we had a logging road that ran not far from our house and we would use that logging road in the evenings after the log trucks were done to try out the car. We didn't bother to take that tow bar off the car, it wasn't bothering anything. Well, one night we're flying along on this dusty gravel road and all the rattling must have loosened the bolts because that tow bar flops down and pokes into the ground. That old car stops almost on a dime the rear end raises way up in the air and luckily slams back to the ground. Somehow we didn't go end over end. That was the last time we practiced with that tow bar attached. 

My first main event win came on a Sunday afternoon in Shelton, Washington. It was extremely dusty and try as they might they couldn't improve the conditions. In between each race they would water, but it only helped for a couple of laps. We had won our heat race but we would be starting about mid pack in the main. I knew whatever we got on the first few laps was going to be about where we finished, so I was hoping for a good start. As luck would have it things opened up and I found myself third after the first lap and and I passed for second on lap two. It was so dusty now that I could hardly make out the leader and then I lost total site of him. I just kept going until I saw what I thought was the checkered flag. I didn't find out until getting back to the pits that I had won. It seems that the leader had missed the entry into a corner and went way wide. I had passed him and never knew it. Looking back now, it wasn't much of a way to win, but at the time it still meant a lot. I had finally arrived as a racer. In fact it meant so much to my confidence, that the next time out at Elma, I won again. This time without any help from the dust.

I think it was during the 1970 IDC race at Skagit that I got the honor of push starting an Offy. We were running the B Main and had a pretty good run going. About 3/4 of the way through the race I'm battling for third, not that far behind the leader. Bud Beavert was running second in an old USAC sprint car powered by an Offy. Like I said I was having a good battle for third and had the outside working. Going into one and two I was right up against the fence when all of a sudden here sits Beavert. He had looped it and was stopping square in front of me. There wasn't anywhere for me to go except plow into his rear bumper. As soon as I hit him, I heard that Offy come to life and away Beavert went. Me, I practically came to a stop and about half the field passed me before I got back up to speed. I worked my way back to about 8th or 9th and Beavert finished 4th. After the race, I'm looking over the damage when her comes Beavert. I figured he was mad and going to chew me out. Instead he sticks out his hand and thanks me for push starting him. He said as soon as he felt the hit, he mashed the gas and it took off. Not many people can boast that they push started an Offy in the middle of a race!