If anyone can build a racing mower from spare parts on short notice, it’s Zach Troyer. He was sure America’s oldest lawnmower race would get postponed, like the rest of the world’s fun. Now he has till July 4 to build a rig to defend his family’s legacy, pandemic or not. So after work, as evening comes on, he drives to his cousin’s farm a mile from the racetrack.
Until last week, it looked like COVID-19 would do what the competition couldn’t — beat the Troyers. “The first family of mowing” has dominated the Twelve Mile 500 for 30 years. But Twelve Mile is a town in Cass County, a COVID-19 hot spot for Indiana, approaching 1,600 cases and seven deaths, so it wasn’t clear it would even happen this year. Now it’s on.
So Zach, with dark full-face stubble and a well-worn baseball cap, walks into the barn-turned-garage and gets to work. His dad, Randy, has won the race at Plank Hill Park 12 times. Zach’s brothers, cousins and uncles have all won it. Last year, Zach grabbed his own fourth title, this time in the modified division, riding his dad’s mower. He’s wanted to build his own modified mower for ages, but kept putting it off. When Randy told him he couldn’t finish one in time, Zach knew he had to prove him wrong.
More than a thousand people show up to watch the race most years, all packed against the track’s edges as the mowers whiz by. It’s a regional event, drawing competitors from nearby states. Nobody wants it to become the epicenter of a COVID-19 outbreak, but it’s not yet clear what precautions will be taken.
Zach isn’t too worried. Many of Cass County’s cases were tied to a Tyson Foods meatpacking plant in Logansport. Zach lives just over the line in Miami County, where they’ve only had 140 cases, and one death. “We’re out in the country,” he says, “so we haven’t really seen much of an impact at all.”
He works in a body shop at a Chrysler dealership that never shut down, so he’s worked right through the pandemic. It’s hard to worry about something abstract like a virus on the Fourth of July, especially given his family’s history. They’ll all be there, either racing or watching. Zach couldn’t imagine not doing it, unless the race were called off.
But when he surveys his mower, he knows there’s a lot of work ahead. Especially as it sits beside his dad’s, silver and painted with “The Intimidator” on the side, and his cousin’s, painted with a reflective dark blue and a pool noodle strapped in beside the seat. Zach’s engine remains incomplete, his hull isn’t painted and he’s short a seat and front wheels. He confesses on Facebook: “Gonna need a lot of Busch Light to make it happen.”
That’s OK, though. Building a racing mower is work — but it also isn’t work. And while a pandemic looms over the race and people all over the country are stuck at home under quarantine or curfew, it feels good to work toward something fun.
“In reality,” he explains, “we are just some mechanically inclined hillbillies building fast mowers because we are bored.”