TWELVE MILE, Ind. — When the Troyer boys get to talking about racing lawn mowers — and they talk about racing lawn mowers a lot — they talk about riding down the back roads of Cass County by moonlight, puffing on cigars.
They talk about engines belching smoke, and absurd little two-stroke machines tearing up white gravel driveways on their way down to the plank bridge over Eel Creek, where they take in the darkness and lawn mower fumes.
And they talk about the Twelve Mile 500, held every Fourth of July for 45 years. The Troyer family has dominated the race for so long that to think of themselves as anything but a dynasty would be, well, unthinkable.
With 11 titles among them, the Troyers are the undisputed first family of lawn mower racing in Twelve Mile — an isolated north-central Indiana town that got its name because it is 12 miles from Peru, Logansport and Rochester — and that's the way they like things.
"This is what happens when you throw people out in the middle of cornfields and leave them there for 150 years," said John Troyer, a 35-year-old former engineer and one of the five brothers who live a few miles apart. "They come up with weird things to do to pass the time."
Lawn mower racing was invented here, at Plank Hill Park, otherwise known as "The Twelve Mile 500 International Motor Speedway."
The race has been run since 1963, after the town suffered a handful of road fatalities over the holiday weekend and the Lions Club decided to have an event that would keep people occupied and in town for the day. A Chevy dealer came up with the idea, although he at first was rebuffed.
"Six months later they got back together and said, 'Well, anybody got a better idea? No? OK, we'll try this stupid lawn mower race,'" John Troyer said. "They tried it, and it stuck. It was a hit."
Friday will be the 46th annual running of the race (exactly half the number of times the Indianapolis 500 has been staged). It predates the creation of the U.S. Lawn Mower Racing Association, formed in 1991, by almost two decades.
Steve Dillman won the inaugural race. One year later, qualifying speeds jumped from just under 10 mph to more than 25 mph, as modifications were allowed. And in 1971, the track went from circular to Grand Prix-style, a course that has both challenges and charm.
Complete with the treacherous "pit curve" to the tree-lined backstretch, the track uses the town Little League field as a start/finish line. The 500 is now a 15-mile, 60-lap course on a quarter-mile track, and there are races in two divisions: Briggs, which covers regular lawn mowers, and Modifieds. Blades are removed in both divisions.
They say the ground shakes as the mowers rattle past.
"This is one of the odd things, though," said Mark Lowe, race organizer and former Lions Club president. "Our race actually has a speed limit."
Five decades ago, Lowe said, race organizers didn't have to worry about speed. Now, with mowers so heavily modified, a speed limit of 15 mph is set (although racers often go faster, particularly in qualifying). Some of the Modified-class mowers are more like karts or all-terrain vehicles, with drastic changes to suspension, engine parts and framing allowed.
"You get out there and you can see why they have speed limits," said seven-time winner Randy Troyer, whose mower retains only the seat of the original J.C. Penney design. "If you went out there and ran, somebody would die."
In 1984, Todd Miller flipped his ride in a rut at home plate and had to scale the 10-foot backstop fence to avoid being hit. In 1988, David Troyer's mower burst into flames, though he escaped safely.
The pace of the race suits the tenor of the event and the town itself. Locals estimate no more than 200 people live in the Twelve Mile downtown area, yet the race draws upward of 1,000 spectators.
"We're cut off by a lack of businesses, so we feel blessed to have this around," said Lowe. "Fourth of July in Twelve Mile, I think, embodies what small-town America means."
The race has a $40 entry fee. This year, 18 people will compete in the Modified race, and 36 will vie for 33 positions in the Briggs. (A 10-lap qualifier will determine the final spots on race day). The winner gets his entry fee back, along with a checkered flag and a donated car.
In their time, the Troyers have won a Thunderbird, a minivan, a pickup and a four-wheel-drive.
"I won one car that ran about 60 miles," Randy Troyer said. "It blew up and ended up going to the junkyard."
In 1980, Mel Daniels, the former Indiana Pacers point guard, acted as grand marshal. And at one point in the 1990s, the souped-up Dixie Chopper ridden by Tim Allen's character on the sitcom "Home Improvement" was the pace mower.
There's a foot race for children in which everyone gets a prize. The town benefits through church lunches and lemonade stands. There used to be a Queen of Corn contest and a variety show. And this year, the night after the race, the Veterans of Foreign Wars will stage fireworks.
"It's one of those things — you blink, and you miss Twelve Mile," said Cullen Ulerick, 30, a volunteer firefighter and painter who will start the race in sixth position (behind four Troyers). "For a town of our size to have something like this — it's a big thing."
For a family like the Troyers, it's a huge thing.
Particularly 42-year-old Randy. His brother Gary has won twice and set the qualifying track record. His son Zach also has won twice. But Randy is the undisputed master.
He has "Doin it for Dale" written on the side of his mower. He has a mustache like Earnhardt's. "The Intimidator" is stenciled onto the front of his ride, along with "Live to Mow" and "Mow to Live" on the back.
He smiles widely when he counts his seven victories on his fingers.
"Earnhardt got seven championships. I want Number 8," he said.
Troyer has an entire upstairs room devoted to the race. Checkered flags are pinned to the walls of the shrine, along with framed newspaper clippings, posters of Earnhardt and a wooden plaque with "The Wall of Victory" carved into it. And then there are the Hawaiian shirts.
The first time Troyer won the 500, he did it wearing the last clean item of clothing he had — an ugly mauve Hawaiian shirt. He has worn one every year since.
"And when one wins, it can never be worn again," he said. "It's sacred then. It goes to the wall."
When Troyer is victorious, he does a victory lap in reverse. And when he steps off his 19-horsepower mower — with the five-gear, left-foot shifter and right-thumb throttle — he's not looking for champagne. A warm can of Busch Light will do.
This year, five Troyers will start the race, one in the pole position.
"It's good to come up here to the track and just cast a big shadow," said Randy Troyer, hands on hips, grinning, staring at the locus of his legend.
"Yeah," his son Zach added. "A big shadow of your big head."
"Mmm, this is it," Troyer continued, unperturbed. "Where man and machine become as one."
Distributed by The Associated Press
