A trio of local drivers, despite their age, are already eyeing
the next level when it comes to racing
Editor’s Note: This is part two in a three-part series about racing in the South County area.
GILROY
When a hobby becomes an obsession, it’s only natural to consider making it a career.
“That’s my goal,” says Devon Ostheimer, a 15-year-old driver out of Morgan Hill. “It all started with I wanted a go-kart when I was little. I just started driving up and down the street and I couldn’t stop really. I just wanted to keep on doing it and doing it.”
Ostheimer is just one of several South County teenagers who chose racing over stick-and-ball sports and has the highest aspirations when it comes to getting behind the wheel. Like Hollister’s Ryan Bernal, 15, Ostheimer wants to brush bumpers in NASCAR.
“That’s where the money is, and the fame, and just doing what I love,” says Ostheimer, who has been driving since he was 8.
Moving from quarter-midgets to winged and wingless sprint cars, which can reach speeds of nearly 100 miles per hour, Ostheimer is currently atop the point standings heading into the Spec Sprint Nationals being held in Chico in October. He often finds himself pitted against men as old as twice his age. Other times, he’ll be side-by-side with Bernal, who, like Ostheimer, has already compiled an extensive collection of race-related trophies and accolades despite not even owning a driver’s license.
“You can say we’re rivals. We’re both young, we’re both trying to make our career out of what we’re doing,” says Bernal, who spent time driving Micros in between quarter-midgets and sprints.
“We don’t really talk. It’s a rivalry. When we talk, we have small talk.”
Both drivers idolize the fiercely competitive and outspoken Tony Stewart, who, like some of NASCAR’s best, saw his career take off following successful stints in several different styles of racing, including sprint cars on dusty and muddy tracks. Due to the terrain, sprint cars are far harder to handle than the souped-up monsters taking left turns on varying forms of concrete ovals.
But dirt isn’t the ideal final destination.
“Eventually, we need to get back on the pavement,” says Don Ostheimer, Devon’s father and crew chief, “but pavement is just so expensive.”
Quarter-midgets can cost several thousand dollars to purchase and sprint cars can reach tens of thousands. The fuel, tires and engine maintenance, along with race entry fees and transportation costs just to attend events are hefty – sometimes making year-round expenditures come close to six figures if poor results and wrecks occur. The cost of pavement racing is event steeper, costing anywhere from hundreds of thousands of dollars to millions depending on the level.
A lack of financial backing from sponsors can make a flat tire the least of a driver’s concerns.
Gilroy’s Mike Hill, 19, knows all too well about the seemingly permanent pit-stops that come with a lack of money. Getting his start in quarter-midgets before eventually moving over to open-wheel racing for Formula Ford, BMW and Mazda, Hill’s career in the Indy Lights Series, a developmental series for IndyCar, stalled last year when his sponsorship dollars ran out mid-season. He was in seventh place at the time.
“Right now, it’s a lot harder than it should be. In the past it was difficult (to get sponsors) even when the timing was good, but now, the market, it’s really tough. That’s why we didn’t do the series.”
Working as an instructor at the Jim Russell Racing Drivers School at Infineon Raceway in Sonoma, Hill is hoping to collect enough sponsorships to return to Indiana in the fall, where he will test cars with his team for the upcoming season. He has tried to stay sharp at work by hopping in the school’s simulator, which can replicate almost any race track and car in the world, but it’s not quite the same.
“I drive a lot by feel and obviously the simulator doesn’t give you the feel you get through the seat of your pants and your hands and your feet,” Hill says.
Getting true laps under their belts, in real racing conditions, is the only way Hill, Bernal and Devon Ostheimer will continue to progress. Nerves are no longer an issue for each of the three; it’s knowing how to react to different scenarios.
“You have to really take your preparations seriously and sometimes it’s really hard because stuff will fall off the car and there’s nothing you can do,” Devon Ostheimer says.
The Morgan Hill native added that the cars he owns both teach invaluable lessons. His winged sprint car allows for more speed and control because of the downforce from the top, while the wingless sprint car offers lessons on how to “control the throttle, more brakes, manhandle the wheel … It really teaches you how to handle the race car.”
In the end, though, talent and experience can only take a driver so far. Racing always comes back to time and money. An average of 10-20 hours a week goes into getting a sprint car ready to race. The costs are the ultimate variable.
“It’s hard. You just have to have the right sponsors,” says Bernal, who is looking to add a winged sprint car to his garage, which currently features two wingless sprints. He adds that “you have to finish in top to keep going.”
Race payouts at the sprint car level often cover expenses if a driver places in the top three and doesn’t crash. But after that it’s all about sponsors and how much money a driver is willing to put into it.
“That’s what it takes in this sport: a lot of hard work,” Devon Ostheimer says. “I’m pretty fortunate, too, because my dad is willing to spend that much time and that much money. But it’s not all for me. He has a hell of a time, too.”
Bernal’s father, Rick, also acts as a mechanic, crew chief and founding sponsor for his son’s racing, while Hill’s parents have been instrumental in getting his career rolling.
The hope is that all that time and energy pays off in the end, says Devon Ostheimer.
“They say for 10 hours of work means 10 minutes of glory.”
Multiply that time spent per week by nearly 10 years, and it’s just paying dues.
