Bobby Cleveland's home on the road was parked along Woodward recently, and seated inside the comfortable living quarters of his semitrailer truck, the 48-year-old Georgia native was busy signing another autograph.
On a miniature poster that featured Cleveland in racing gear, he took his Sharpie pen and scribbled his familiar catchphrase, "Live To Mow, Mow To Live!"
And then he smiled, because, yes, even he sees the humor in his celebrity status. "I wouldn't say I've dedicated my life to lawn mower racing," laughed Cleveland, who was in town for the Woodward Dream Cruise, promoting his sponsor, Gold Eagle Co., and its STA-BIL fuel products. "But I've done just about everything there is to do in this sport, and I still love to do it."
It's spreading like crabgrass, this sport, and Cleveland will be in the thick of it, racing in this weekend's finals in Ohio. Lawn mower racing traces its roots back to the early 1970s, when a few grumbling gearheads at a pub in West Sussex, England, dreamed up the idea as a less-expensive alternative to auto racing.
The U.S. Lawn Mower Racing Association (USLMRA) was founded in the spring of 1992, announced with a press release -- on April Fools' Day, no less -- from the folks at Gold Eagle as a promotional stunt for their new fuel stabilizer.
"And we've been rockin' and mowin' ever since," said Bruce Kaufman, the association's president. "Truth be told, the response we got when we started this, no one could have expected that."
Labor Day tradition
Or this: There are now 20 local chapters of the USLMRA across the country, with 540 registered members and more than 100 sanctioned races each year, culminating with the annual STA-BIL nationals every Labor Day weekend. NASCAR has Daytona; the mowers have Mansfield, Ohio.
"It's like a weekend-long party, really," said Jayson Mikula, 29, of Sparta, Mich. "We're there to race, but it's a social event, too."
Mikula, the 2005 driver of the year on the mower circuit, is the odds-on favorite to win the points title this season, after a pair of recent near-misses. Last summer, he let the title slip away when he crashed while trying an ill-advised pass against Bobby Cleveland -- the eight-time national champ -- in Mansfield.
"This time, I'll be smarter about it," said Mikula, who got his first glimpse of the sport on TV back in 1999 and knew -- "instantly," he says -- that he wanted to try it. "I knew I wanted to race something. I just didn't know what I could afford. When I saw this, I thought, 'Well, that's about as cheap as you can get.' "
Cheaper still because his father owns the Four Seasons Yard & Sport Equipment store in Comstock Park, Mich., where he works as a mechanic.
"I just eyeballed all the trade-ins we had at the store and picked the smallest, lightest mower I could find and went from there," said Mikula, whose dad, Jim, and father-in-law, James Keech, both have started racing in recent years.
Mikula and his wife, Jodi, actually held a special wedding ceremony at nationals a few years ago, complete with a lawn-green jacket and a custom-made faux grass wedding dress. As the crowd cheered, they rode off on Cleveland's latest creation, the big-wheeled "Monster Mower."
Sport with a sense of humor
Asked to explain the sport's wacky mow-mentum, Kaufman cites "America's fascination with the lawn" -- there are an estimated 50 million acres of cultivated grass in the United States.
But it's also the need for speed, and a competitive drive that knows no bounds, turning a chore into a challenge.
"A lot of the lawn mower racers are good ol' country boys who can't afford to go car racing, so they race lawn mowers," said Cleveland, who took his mower to the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah and set a heretofore nonexistent land-speed record (81 mph) on July 4. "But we've had a lot of people that used to race go-carts or sprint cars that come to lawn mower racing because it's less expensive, just as much fun, and they actually get more publicity doing this because it's unique."
It is that. At almost weekly races across the country -- mostly in the South and the Midwest -- crowds of 1,000 or more will gather at fairgrounds or parks to gawk and giggle at the spectacle. A dozen racers begin LeMans style, lining up for the starter's call -- "Ready, set, mow!" -- and then sprinting to their tractors, turning the ignition and flooring the gas pedal.
There are races in a half-dozen mower classifications but Mikula & Co. typically reach speeds of 40-45 mph on 200-meter dirt and grass oval tracks. It's mostly men, but a half-dozen or more women will be among the 100 or so racers competing in Mansfield this weekend.
"Some people, when they hear about it, they first envision a push mower," Mikula said, laughing. "So you've got to explain to them, 'No, no. It's a ridingmower.' "
Once they stop scratching their heads, they start laughing. And that's the idea, after all. Many racers -- and their mowers -- have nicknames, like the Lawn Ranger, Turfinator, Sodzilla and Mr. Mowjangles. There's an MTV feature on the show "Sports Blender" next month -- with footage shot at last month's race in Sparta -- a CD released by The Mower Men and even an Xbox video game ("Mower Racing Mania 2007") due out in the fall.
"Obviously, we're really proud of our sense of humor," said Kaufman, who routinely refers to himself as Mr. Mow-It-All. "But I'm not sitting there in my office in Chicago telling 'em, 'Be funny, would ya?' I mean, it's contrived. But it's not thatcontrived."
Safety on the course
There's certainly no money at stake, either, though Cleveland, for one, has parlayed his success into a year-round gig with Gold Eagle after years as a design engineer at Snapper, the lawn mower manufacturer.
"The only thing we're getting at the end of the day is a trophy," Mikula said. "And bragging rights."
That's due in part to the fact the Outdoor Power Equipment Institute, a trade association that represents the mower manufacturers, won't sign off on the shenanigans, mostly for liability reasons. According to a statement on its Web site, the OPEI "on behalf of its membership, does not support the concept of lawnmower racing and opposes the sponsorship of all types of such events."
"That has remained consistent -- it hasn't changed for 15 years," Kaufman said.
The racers don't take safety for granted, though. Cutting blades are removed from the mowers and kill switches are installed to shut off the power if the driver falls. Other safety requirements include helmets, neck guards and boots, and drivers have mandatory pre-racing inspections.
Still, while NASCAR-style bumping is illegal, this is no Sunday morning drive in the backyard. And that might explain why Cleveland says he's no longer allowed to mow his own lawn back in Georgia, on the orders of his live-in girlfriend, Diletta Wiggins.
"She says I go too fast," he said, smiling.