The Summit Speedway Go-Karts
In 1994 and in 1995 the Camp Summit go-kart circuit was run by me and a chap called Steve Parker. Mr Parker, who remains a friend to this day was (and still is) a muscular Kiwi with a unique outlook on life. Steve earned his living operating earth moving machinery and driving articulated trucks when my background was office work. He was into Chicago and Pete Cetera, I was into Iron Maiden and Metallica, his education was from the school of life, I was doing a degree at university – we were like chalk and cheese in many regards but we got along famously.
The go-karts were very popular with the kids and they were in use for most of the day every day, weather permitting. Given that they had the potential to be dangerous, Steve Parker and I had to be sure that the riders knew what they were doing and were safe. Helmets were a prerequisite and I instigated an accompanied driving test for the children and gave them a driving licence when they passed.
The karts were single or twin-seaters powered by five or eight horsepower Briggs and Stratton engines. Steve and I had to build, fuel and maintain the karts and we had a small workshop to facilitate that. The karts were fairly resilient but track rods got bent, track rod ends got broken, tires needed replacing, oil changes needed doing and occasionally engines or carburettors would need attention.
The karts could be governed to slow them down and Steve and I would adjust the mechanical restrictors particularly when the younger kids were riding. Of course when Steve and I were riding the karts ourselves, we ran them without restriction and had a ball. We constructed tracks into the woods for our own amusement and we raced each other on the rain soaked track when the kids weren’t allowed up. When the track was wet the karts could easily be induced to slide and spin and that was hugely entertaining.
Sometimes when the children asked nicely, Steve or I would take them out for hot laps in the twin-seat karts and that always went down well.
Once Steve and I were racing each other and I misjudged a turn, clipped a tyre and flipped my kart over. I hit the tarmac on my hands and knees, slid along the floor and then the kart fell upside down on my back. The kart was smoking badly because the oil and fuel was mixing and dripping out onto the exhaust, I was scuffed up and bleeding, my watch got torn off my wrist and Steve was laughing so much he was crying. To his credit he didn’t laugh until he could see I wasn’t really hurt – there was this short hiatus that lasted until I started moving! Aside from some abrasions, and feeling like a berk, I was okay and the kart was fine once turned the right way up and cleaned up a bit.
Unsurprisingly, we didn’t tolerate such tomfoolery from the children we were responsible for.
The track was at the top of the camp on the fringes of the woods that surrounded the site. The track was tarmac in a classical figure of eight shape with a bridge and a small tunnel. All around the edges were tires to stop the occasional run offs. On one occasion a new twin-seat kart needed a complete re-build after an older lad called Adam Rausch (I think) wedged it sideways in our tunnel. Boy I was cross that day.
The fact that the track was at the top of the camp was great in some regards in that we got left to get on with our jobs and didn’t get much grief from the management. In one particular respect though it was grim – mosquitos. In both years at Camp Summit, my first few weeks were a torment of insect bites and itchiness. If you joined the dots on my body I’d have ended up the colour of the pen being used, I am amazed I didn’t end up needing a blood transfusion after the bloody insects sucked me dry.
Grouchiness aside, all in all, I reckon that managing the go-karts was one of the best specialist councillor roles going, it was good fun, all the kids knew who you were and from their perspective, the activity was one of the most popular things on camp.
Back to Camp America intro
Home
The go-karts were very popular with the kids and they were in use for most of the day every day, weather permitting. Given that they had the potential to be dangerous, Steve Parker and I had to be sure that the riders knew what they were doing and were safe. Helmets were a prerequisite and I instigated an accompanied driving test for the children and gave them a driving licence when they passed.
The karts were single or twin-seaters powered by five or eight horsepower Briggs and Stratton engines. Steve and I had to build, fuel and maintain the karts and we had a small workshop to facilitate that. The karts were fairly resilient but track rods got bent, track rod ends got broken, tires needed replacing, oil changes needed doing and occasionally engines or carburettors would need attention.
The karts could be governed to slow them down and Steve and I would adjust the mechanical restrictors particularly when the younger kids were riding. Of course when Steve and I were riding the karts ourselves, we ran them without restriction and had a ball. We constructed tracks into the woods for our own amusement and we raced each other on the rain soaked track when the kids weren’t allowed up. When the track was wet the karts could easily be induced to slide and spin and that was hugely entertaining.
Sometimes when the children asked nicely, Steve or I would take them out for hot laps in the twin-seat karts and that always went down well.
Once Steve and I were racing each other and I misjudged a turn, clipped a tyre and flipped my kart over. I hit the tarmac on my hands and knees, slid along the floor and then the kart fell upside down on my back. The kart was smoking badly because the oil and fuel was mixing and dripping out onto the exhaust, I was scuffed up and bleeding, my watch got torn off my wrist and Steve was laughing so much he was crying. To his credit he didn’t laugh until he could see I wasn’t really hurt – there was this short hiatus that lasted until I started moving! Aside from some abrasions, and feeling like a berk, I was okay and the kart was fine once turned the right way up and cleaned up a bit.
Unsurprisingly, we didn’t tolerate such tomfoolery from the children we were responsible for.
The track was at the top of the camp on the fringes of the woods that surrounded the site. The track was tarmac in a classical figure of eight shape with a bridge and a small tunnel. All around the edges were tires to stop the occasional run offs. On one occasion a new twin-seat kart needed a complete re-build after an older lad called Adam Rausch (I think) wedged it sideways in our tunnel. Boy I was cross that day.
The fact that the track was at the top of the camp was great in some regards in that we got left to get on with our jobs and didn’t get much grief from the management. In one particular respect though it was grim – mosquitos. In both years at Camp Summit, my first few weeks were a torment of insect bites and itchiness. If you joined the dots on my body I’d have ended up the colour of the pen being used, I am amazed I didn’t end up needing a blood transfusion after the bloody insects sucked me dry.
Grouchiness aside, all in all, I reckon that managing the go-karts was one of the best specialist councillor roles going, it was good fun, all the kids knew who you were and from their perspective, the activity was one of the most popular things on camp.
Back to Camp America intro
Home