The photographer and I stumble slightly on the damp, slippery clay as we cross the track and slide toward the Volusia Speedway Park pit area. "Careful," says one of the drivers as he watches us try to find our footing. "It's pretty slick there."

This was my first visit to the half-mile track outside Barberville, but it resurrected a dim memory from my distant past when I would cajole my parents into taking me to watch the races at a reddish-colored clay-and-caliche track in the Texas panhandle.
For me, the highlight of those evenings at the speedway was never the "serious" final race that determined the evening's biggest winner, but the quirkier events the racetrack operators dreamed up. I especially liked the figure eight race. However, the speedway in Barberville has a pit area where the figure eight crossover should be. But, I am pleased to note the theme for the evening - the Wiener Nationals - with free hot dogs and dachshund races at intermission.
Big sports money hasn't taken over the Barberville racing scene. This is the real deal - racecars built at home by regular guys who like to make cars go fast, driven by guys who like to drive fast. One of them leans against a hand-painted racecar, his beard waving in the warm breeze.
"This is probably only my seventh race," says the driver, Butch Jett, a sincere and affable Osteen resident. "But this was just something I'd wanted to do for a long time."
"I love to watch racing," he says. "Growing up I used to watch Dale Earnhardt race on the dirt track in West Virginia. We couldn't afford admission, but we could sit on top of a hill and see the whole track."
Jett is a member of Redneck Racing, a makeshift racing team loosely organized by Anthony Morris, who in old-school fashion can turn a castoff hoopty into a semi-respectable racecar. Each of the team's cars is painted the same shade of crimson. The Rednecks had devised a unique - and not a little quirky - numbering system. The cars were numbered 1.4, 1.5 and 1.6, with each number painstakingly hand-painted.
"He asked me if I wanted to drive one of his cars," says Jett, who would be driving car number 1.5. "So I got the opportunity to race, and I took it."
Morris has been building and racing cars for several years - "off and on for most of my life," he says. "I spend all my free time building cars, then watch these guys tear them up."
"Millions of hours" go into building a car, he jokes. But far fewer dollars are invested.
"A friend of mine donated that one," he says of number 1.5. "We probably put less than $1,000 in a car, and that's mostly the safety equipment they require."
Morris says the Redneck Racing guys are not interested in getting into the NASCAR scene. The prefer the cheaper thrill of racing on the dirt track, where the field is open to just about anyone willing to pay the $25 entry fee.
"And dirt is just a lot more fun than asphalt," he says. "You really have to do some driving here."
Dirt track racing has been around as long as there have been automobiles and drivers wanting to race them. Some of today's tracks, like the half-mile racetrack in Winfield, Kansas, can trace their origins to horse racing in the 19th century. The track at Volusia Speedway Park has been in existence for about 40 years.
"The exact date is unknown," says General Manager Tonya Moschell. "But we know it's been through several transformations over the course of different ownership - it's been dirt, asphalt and dirt again."
According to DIRT Motorsports, a dirt track racing association, there are hundreds of dirt tracks in the United States. Moschell grew up in a racing family before making a career out of track management.
"We raced when I was a kid," she says. "Saturday nights, we raced on a 3/8 mile track, and Sunday on the half-mile. The last track I worked on was 1/5 mile - that's a very little track. But quarters and 3/8 are very common."
"This one is a half-mile track," Moschell says. "That's actually kind of large for this kind of racing, which makes it a very fast track."
The fast track brings drivers from all over the state, Moschell says, although most come from within a 70-mile radius. Most of the drivers are hobbyists.
"But a lot of the bigger names have raced here and gone up through the ranks," she says, among them Tony Stewart and Kasey Kahne. "Richard Childress was just here, working with his grandchildren. And Joey Legano has raced here - he's an up-and-comer."
Racing at Volusia Speedway Park is "year-round, almost," Moschell says. "Our regular point season runs March through September, but we have events in October and November, and one in December and January."
"We get into the DIRTcar nationals in February - that's a really big one," she says. "It coincides with Speedweeks, so it's through the 14th this year - we end up the Saturday night before the Daytona 500."
Standing in the infield with Jett, Morris and their Redneck Racing teammates, the Daytona 500 seems a world away. This infield has no "Fan Zone," no VIP club, no Jumbotrons - just cars, drivers and crews, and the occasional intrepid journalist.
Not all the racing teams are as entry-level as Redneck Racing, however. Not far away, Tommy Roberts, from Ocala, gets his new car ready to run.
"This is our first time on the track here," Roberts says. "So we brought a brand new car - it's never been run before."
Roberts raced for 25 years and racked up more than 100 wins. "But I can't race any more," he says. "I'm getting old, and my eyes got bad. So I just own the cars now and let my sons do the racing."
"I didn't think I'd be able to stand on the side and watch," he says. "And to tell the truth, it was tough the first year. But now it's a heck of a lot of fun."
On this particular evening, son Todd Roberts will drive one of their smaller cars. "We just brought this one along to play with," Tommy Roberts says. "Dean Jarvis is going to be in No. 44," the new car. "I raced against him for about 15 years - that's how I know he's a good driver."
After a short meeting, the drivers take each class of racecars onto the track for a few practice laps. And promptly at 7:30, the races start. I watch the preliminaries standing on a deck atop the weigh-in station, eating free hotdogs and turning in slow circles to watch the cars wind around and around the track.
At intermission we watched the dachshund races from the grandstands. To kill time while things got organized down on the straightaway, the soundboard operator squeezed Aerosmith's "Sweet Emotion" through the tinny metal loudspeakers.
The dog races are, as expected, cute and funny. Between races, the announcer welcomes regulars he spotted in the crowd. One couple is celebrating their wedding anniversary. The official pit area tire guy was married at the track during the previous weekend's races.
After intermission, we get back to the serious business - figuring out which car-and-driver combo is fastest. After each race, the driver returns to the finish line to be awarded his trophy, to say a few words via wireless mike to the crowd, and to draw a raffle ticket.
It is quaint - about as old-school as it gets - but in a fun, endearing way. I'll come back again to watch the races - not every weekend, maybe, but at least once in a while.
After all is said and done, team Redneck Racing doesn't finish all that well. The guys don't seem to notice, though.
"Have fun?" I asked.
"Yes, sir," Morris answers unequivocally. "It was awesome."
"You can't get a ride like this one anywhere - not even Disney World," Jett adds. "At least, not for 25 bucks apiece."
Volusia Speedway Park is on State Road 40 east of Barberville. For information, visit the website at volusiaspeedwaypark.net or phone (386) 985-4402.
Hi my name is Tracy I am looking for a dirt track in my area? I know racers are familier with a tracks from east to west. Can you help me?? I live in Maine (southern part). Thank You for your help in advance. Stay safe and keep on racing. We (fans) love it.