When I first sat down at my computer to rough out an initial design for the car I was envisioning, it wasn’t long before the computer prompted me to “save”. I had no name in mind, so I saved the file under the first thing that popped into my head: I called the file “Modern Midget”.

Midgets still exist, and in some ways they are thoroughly modernized, especially the engines. But in other ways they are not very different from how they were more than three quarters of a century ago. I was thinking about the role that midget racing played in the sport of auto racing when I first started racing. For the benefit of those under 80, allow me to ruminate for a moment.

In the years immediately surrounding WW II and up until the early sixties, things were very different from the present. Indy car racing—Championship racing as it was then known—and especially the Indianapolis 500, was the pinnacle of American motorsport. Back then “Champ” car racing was much more closely related to short (oval) track racing than to road racing. The Champ cars were very much like the midgets and sprint cars, just bigger. And they ran on similar tracks: both dirt and pavement, just bigger. Right after WW2 Indianapolis was the only paved track on the “Championship Trail”; all the rest were dirt. That changed as more and more of the original horse tracks were paved. The Champ cars became more specialized as the “Indy roadsters” took over on the pavement, but the nexus between midgets and sprints, and Champ cars still existed because they were all front-engine cars with non-independent suspension front and rear, and an upright seating position.

The midgets were very important in the whole scheme of things because they were the primary source of new talent for Championship racing. Right after the war the KurtisKraft-Offenhauser (Offy) became the premier car, and to compete at the top level, especially on the larger tracks, you pretty much had to have an Offy. But there were also non-Offy clubs, and they typically ran on the smaller tracks, both dirt and pavement. There were always plenty of talented drivers even there, but in today’s lingo those clubs might be called “entry level”. At the other end of the midget spectrum, although it was not officially “big time racing”, it wasn’t far from. Some of the most revered racecar drivers in the country were midget drivers, and many Indy car drivers continued to race midgets. At that level there was great depth of talent, and the midgets ran not only the small 1/5 to 1/2-mile tracks, but they also ran both paved and dirt mile tracks. As far back as 1947, midgets lapped Langhorne Speedway, a circular dirt mile track in Pennsylvania, at over 100 mph, sideways the whole way! They even occasionally ran road courses. Two-time Indy winner and national champion Roger Ward defeated the absolute cream of the crop of American road racers in an open comp race at Lime Rock Park in Connecticut in 1959 with an Offy midget. (Lime Rock was uniquely suited to a “one gear” midget because it had a relatively short straightaway and no really tight turns.)

In the immediate post-war years, midget racing was the biggest paid attendance sport in America, bigger than baseball. There were plenty of midget race cars! You could get an older non-Offy midget for today’s equivalent of a few thousand dollars. You didn’t have to be rich to get into the sport; you didn’t even have to be rich to own an Offy. I knew Offy owners who weren’t even close to being wealthy. They worked ordinary 8 to 5 jobs. They worked on their race cars in a single car garage, towed them on an open single axle trailer pulled behind their family passenger car. The typical trailers of the day had two tire posts, one for pavement tires and one for dirt tires, because they often ran a pavement race one day, and a dirt race the next.

In those days midget drivers with ambition and talent knew that if they worked their way into the top ranks of midget racing and excelled, they had a shot at going to the Champ cars, often, but not always, preceded by a stint in the sprint cars.

But in the early sixties all that changed as rear engine designs from Europe proved superior at Indy and the other paved tracks. By the end of the decade, the “upright dirt cars” and the Indy roadsters were long gone, and all the dirt races on the Championship Trail had been replaced by road races. The nexus between the midgets and sprints, and the Indy cars, was gone.

Road racing eventually replaced short track racing as the primary source of talent for Indy car racing. And therein was a problem.

At the top levels of the sport road racing can attract a large spectator turn-out, as well as TV coverage. TV allows viewers to see what’s going on all around the track, and nowadays Jumbotron TVs let grandstand spectators see what’s going on around the rest of the track as well. But at lower levels of the sport road racing isn’t very “fan friendly”, and it’s inherently expensive, if for no other reason than it takes up a lot of real estate. And road courses are not suitable for “Saturday night” racing under the lights. As a result, at the lower level of the sport road races are essentially amateur, non-spectator, events. If there are no spectators, drivers get no fan recognition, and sponsors don’t sell anything. If there is no “front gate” revenue, typically there is no purse. But something must pay for the inherent costs of road courses, and that something is sizable entry fees.

Once the nexus between Indy racing and short track racing was gone, short track racing classes gradually evolved largely into separate dirt track and pave track divisions. Today we have god only knows how many different classes of race cars if you include both open wheel and stock cars. But despite all those classes there’s something missing, especially on the open wheel side.

That missing something is an affordable racing class that would enable an aspiring driver to work toward Indy car racing without going through the “ladder system” (née Mazda Ladder System) that consists of USF2000, Indy Pro2000, and Indy Lights. The system can develop the needed skills, and it does get its participants some recognition within the road racing world. But it is prohibitively expensive for all but a small percentage of aspiring racers. The same holds true for SCCA’s relatively new Formula 4 and Formula 3 classes, which afford an alternative route to Indy or IMSA (professional sports car racing).

That’s obviously a problem for drivers who don’t come from wealthy families. But it’s a problem for the sport as well. Drivers graduating to IndyCar through road racing, while they may be well known within the road race community, have little or no following among short track fans, whose numbers are huge. I think that’s why Indy car racing doesn’t have nearly the fan base it deserves given the quality of the racing.

Additionally, these drivers, unlike many of their counterparts in NASCAR or their predecessors in Championship racing, rarely if ever show up at short tracks because they have no roots in short track racing. This is not good for the drivers or the sport. There is plenty of evidence that racking up “seat time” by competing in different types of racing, makes for great race drivers. Versatility was one of the attributes that made drivers like Mario Andretti and A.J. Foyt household names. They won at Indy, they won at Daytona, they won at Le Mans and all over the world; they won on the dirt tracks and on road courses and super speedways; they won in midgets, sprint cars, Championship cars, sports cars, stock cars, Formula One cars. Today, Kyle Larson and Christopher Bell are two of the most exciting drivers in the country because they win on Saturday night in midgets and sprint cars on dirt, and on Sunday in NASCAR stock cars on super speedways. Versatility is not everything, but it sure creates excitement in the sport.

My objective is to create a class that would be to the modern era of open wheel racing what the midgets were to open wheel racing seventy years ago.

What, specifically, are the requirements for such a class?

Requirement 1: A small open wheel race car that is relevant to contemporary Indy cars.

To provide experience that would be applicable to Indy car racing the car must be similar to an Indy car, not only in the way it feels and responds to the driver, but in the way it responds to chassis adjustments (which are quite different from what front engine oval track racecars typically use).  Obviously, the car must be road-raceable, so it must be symmetrical (i.e., not off-set). It must be rear engine (i.e., engine behind driver), with independent suspension front and rear, adjustable wings front and rear, with the driver in a narrow cockpit with a seating position similar to Indy cars—a reclining position where his feet are level with or actually higher than his butt.  It must have a multispeed transmission and some sort of limited slip differential. Nowadays it probably needs to have a data acquisition system too.

Additionally, to attract young people—both drivers and spectators—it must look contemporary as well.

Requirement 2:  A race car that that is suitable to run on paved ovals and dirt ovals as well as the road courses.

It’s important that up-and-coming drivers be able to get lots of “seat time”, so they must be able to race pretty much every week during racing season. For a sanctioning body to be able to book a full season of races within a reasonable geographic area (to limit the amount of travel required) it’s essential that the cars be able to race on all the available venues, dirt tracks included. Furthermore, most top drivers I’ve talked to agree that competing on different types of tracks makes for good race drivers.

Short track racing requires a cage, not just for driver safety, but usually to meet track insurance requirements for open wheel racecars.

In oval track racing there is a certain amount of contact with other cars and crash walls, so the cars must be tougher—especially on rough dirt tracks—and they need bumpers and nerf bars.

Dirt track racing requires much faster steering than road racing so the steering ratio must be easily adjustable. And dirt cars need lots of “steering lock”—aka turning radius or cross-up—something most formula type cars are lacking.

On many existing small, paved ovals, the “groove” is narrow, and the wider the cars are the less outside passing and side-by-side racing you get. Dirt track racing favors a shorter wheelbase than most formula type cars have. Suffice it to say I think this class needs to be somewhat shorter and narrower than formula cars of similar weight and power, and the rules must be fairly confining in this regard to maintain reasonable parity on all three venues.

Requirement 3: A racecar that is fast enough and powerful enough. . . . .

Racing is not automatically more difficult as speed increases, but both the costs and the consequences do increase exponentially with speed, which is why the fastest venues are—or should be—the purview of the top tier of racing classes. I think there is sort of a sweet spot in the spectrum of speed and power where the racing can be very challenging even to the most skilled drivers, especially when contested on a variety of venues, yet not unreasonable in term of coast and risk. That’s where this car wants to be.

I think that sweet spot is somewhere in the range of 5:1 lb./hp (driver’s weight included), with an attainable top speed (a function of power and aerodynamics) of around 160 mph.

The two road racing classes I look at for comparison are SCCA’s Formula 3 Americas, and the Indy Pro 2000, the middle step of the IndyCar ladder system. They are both squarely in this range.

Based on my own experience, on the typical short tracks, ¼ to ½ mile, both paved and dirt, a 5:1 weight-to horsepower ratio will make great racing.

Requirement 4: A race car that is economical to run because the factors that contribute to prohibitive (for most people) costs of racing have been considered and minimized as much as possible.

What are the factors that make racing unnecessarily expensive?

Cost factor #1 one is tires. That’s not something the design or specifications of the car alone can solve. I discuss that issue below under Basic Concept of Rules.

Cost factor #2 is engine costs. Next to tires, engines are the biggest cost drivers. My concept is based on using Japanese motorcycle engines (my prototype uses a Kawasaki ZX14 engine, the largest of all the Japanese sport bike engines.)  These engines are a godsend to small car racing. They are readily available out of cycle salvage yards for not much money, they tend to not blow up, and they are so sophisticated that spending a whole pile of money to modify them doesn’t get you much. The specific rules pertaining to the engine would be the purview of the sanctioning body, but the very fact that these are very sophisticated to begin with tends to minimize the problem. My suggestions on engine rules are outlined below under Basic Concept of Rules.

Speaking of engines, I might mention gearboxes and clutches, two very expensive items in most racecars. But with the motorcycle engines, they’re part and parcel with the engine, all for about $4000 to $5000 from cycle salvage!

Cost factor #3 is travel expenses. I’ve already explained why a car that can run ovals, both paved and dirt, and road courses enables a sanctioning body to schedule most of the races within a relatively small geographic area. Obviously, that would differ in different parts of the country, but limiting travel without confining the class to one or two tracks is essential to the concept.

Cost factor #4 is support people and equipment required. I have owned a lot of different kinds of race cars, and one thing I have discovered is that small race cars are a lot less expensive to run than big ones. Small race cars require less shop space, can be transported on a less expensive trailer, towed by a less expensive vehicle, that use less fuel getting to the track. The race car uses less fuel, and wears out fewer tires (which typically cost less).  And they don’t require a big pit crew. It’s almost impossible for just two people, let alone one person, to handle a stock at the track.  Typically, short track stock cars require a crew of three or four people, or more. Even if they are all volunteers the car owner usually has to cover pit passes and overnight lodging if necessary.

Cost factor #5 is stupid rules and specifications, and just plain bad engineering.  Certain aspects of car design can have a big effect on operating costs and repair costs. Many racing classes have evolved in such a way that there are design features and rules that make absolutely no sense whatsoever. That discussion usually becomes contentious, so I’ll avoid the specifics. But below are some of the ways I’ve sought to control costs by virtue of good design in the first place.

- I’ve opted for tube frame design as opposed to monocoque construction. It can be argued that a monocoque is safer, and that’s true when you’re crashing at 240 mph. But the class I’m proposing won’t go 240 mph. The typical crash will be at a far lower speed. The tube frame with cage will be plenty adequate, less expensive to build, less vulnerable to localized damage, and more easily repaired.

- The car is designed so that a minor crash will usually at most knock a “corner” off the car without doing major damage. That is, the damage will usually be confined to the suspension arms, not the frame, uprights, spindles, or other more expensive components.

- Shock absorbers have become very important and very expensive. On most front engine open-wheel racecars, they are vulnerable in even a minor crash. On this car they are inboard in a much-protected position. Additionally, the actuating rockers are unique, allowing longer stroke, typically less expensive, shocks and springs.

- The car as currently designed uses a Quaife limited slip differential. That’s partially because a locked rear is difficult to deal with on a road course. But in oval track racing any class that uses a one piece live rear axle (e.g., midgets, sprints, etc.), or any class that does not allow lockers or limited slip differentials, rear wheel stagger (difference in rear tire circumference) is critical. That means teams must have a big range of rear tires sizes mounted and ready to go. That gets expensive. By the end of the season, you usually wind up throwing away a lot of tires you never got to use.

- Wings are typically labor intensive to make and are easily damaged (especially the front ones). I’ve gone to the expense of making an aluminum extrusion that greatly simplifies the wing manufacturing so that a wing replacement will be inexpensive.

- The fiberglass body panels have been designed to be modular to the greatest extent possible so that replacements can be shipped economically. Once the design has been finalized, I’ll make many of these parts in more durable high impact plastic.

- The steering gear is designed especially for this car because I couldn’t find an existing center steer rack and pinion that was up to the rigors of short track racing. The gear is designed so that the ratio can be changed easily, eliminating the need for a steering quickener, or a time consuming “bump steering” process as would be required by changing the length of the steering arms when changing from pavement to dirt setup or vice versa.

Requirement 5:  A rules package that prevents the use electronic traction control.

Electronic traction control takes driving skill out of the equation to a considerable extent; it’s a threat to all forms of the sport. I’m planning to supply the car with a mandated, purpose made, ECU (Engine Control Unit) that allows competitors to adjust ignition timing and fuel mapping with their PC or laptop computer but has no traction control capabilities; and with a tidy wiring harness that will make it hard to hide any device that could (functionally) get between the ECU and the engine.

Basic Concept of Rules

The design of the car alone is not enough to define the class. There must be rules. It is in vogue to have a totally “spec” class that regulates absolutely everything. That’s supposed to “level the playing field”. But it doesn’t do that; it levels the drivers instead. Car set-up has always been a part of the game. Experienced drivers understand car set-up and use it to advantage. If the rules prohibit them from changing anything, they can’t take advantage of their experience. That dumbs down the sport. I hate that. Furthermore, strictly spec classes are usually very difficult to police, resulting in wholesale cheating and escalating costs. In my view, the fewer rules the better.

But here are a few areas that do have to be controlled:

- The foremost problem is tires. There’s no way to design a race car such that putting fresh tires on every time the car rolls out isn’t an advantage. The problem with allowing that sort of thing is that people with unlimited funds can and do corrupt the sport. Many associations and racetracks have devised solutions to this problem. In any case, there must be a spec tire, and it should be a relatively hard compound just so that it will last longer. The tire sizes I have designed around for my prototype are essentially midget tires, but I haven’t selected a spec tire, nor have I formed an opinion as to specifically what the tire rules should be. I need to do some testing before I can make an informed recommendation.

- Engines rules are always a problem, because they are hard to enforce, and horsepower is a money spending thing. I’m tentatively planning to allow any modification of the cylinder head, which would include cams, valves, valve springs, ports, and combustion chamber. This would eliminate the “hard to enforce” part of the engine problem. The rest of the engine would remain stock. This requirement would be effectively enforced by an RPM limit, the theory being that there’s not much point in building an engine that can turn 15,000 RPM if it’s electronically limited by the ECU to 11,000 RPM. (Yes, they could try to increase the displacement, but we have an easy way to detect that without tearing down the engine.) These rules would effectively limit the cost of a top-of-the-line engine to about $8500, while a $4500 engine straight out of cycle salvage would be competitive much of the time. (Compare that with about $60,000 to $80,000 for a Toyota midget engine.)  Under these rules a 2012 or later ZX14 will make about 230 HP on gasoline, or about250 hp on methanol, at the rear wheels. (I haven’t made a final decision as to what fuel the class will run.) 

- With small engine racecars a minimum weight limit with driver is essential to avoid light drivers having an insurmountable advantage. I am tentatively proposing a minimum weight of 200 lbs. over the base weight of the car. The prototype, without fuel, but including fire system, power steering, wings front and rear weighs 935 lbs. That would indicate a minimum weight including driver of 1135 lbs.  (Very light drivers present a problem because of the need to add so much weight.  The early version of the ZX14 is 89 cc smaller than the current version, so we may be able to determine a parity with a lighter weight limit using the earlier engine.)

- Shock absorbers may be something that will need to be controlled because shock technology has progressed to the point that in the upper echelons of racing, they are costing thousands of dollars per wheel.  I’m not convinced that for races of short duration very expensive shocks will prove to be a significant advantage over modern but not so hi-tech shocks. I’m going to wait and see on this subject.

Initial Cost of the Car

I think the initial cost of a new car less engine and tires will be about $65,000. That’s a lot of money to most people, but not compared to most racecars. And, of course, once the class has been around for a couple of seasons there will be older cars for sale for a lot less, so entry into the class will not be prohibitive.

(I should point out that the initial cost of the car is closely related to the capital invested in tooling. If, at some point, I can attract more capital, this price could be substantially reduced.)

A final thought about this class, which for convenience I am going to call Formula RPD (for Road courses, Paved ovals, and Dirt ovals) until I get a better name:

I have been pitching Formula RPD as a way for drivers to work toward Indy car racing. Looking at it as a development class, I believe it would be an excellent and affordable way for a driver to develop the basic skills necessary for Indy car racing. However, driver development is not the only reason to build Formula RPD. In fact, I don’t think of it as primarily a development class. I think of it as a great racing class that should exist, and for some crazy reason doesn’t.  There is no class anything like this. For young drivers coming out of karting or other grass-roots racing with ambition but not a lot of money, there’s no place else to go where at least you have a shot.  For the 25 to 45 yr. old crowd who always wanted to race but as kids had no family help but now have a good job and some money, where else could you go to race a real race car and experience such a wide spectrum of the sport? For successful racers who want to step back from the pressures of full-time professional racing but still race for fun, what better place to go where you could still race with serious racers, and experience other forms of the sport that maybe you never had a chance to try before?