Mud races bring old, new fans to annual Benton Neighbor Days

When the announcer called his name, Matthew Jenkins’s ’85 Chevy Scottsdale died before it could even reach the mudpit.

As the 14-year-old tried to coax the engine back to life, his father, Rick, could only watch from the sideline. They’d spent the last year getting the rusty pickup track-worthy, so when it sputtered back to life with a jolt, Rick hollered with excitement. Behind the wheel, Matthew gave his dad a thumbs-up through the thick cast on his left arm. He’d broken it the day before playing dodgeball but neither that nor the recalcitrant motor was going to keep the boy from running his first-ever mud race at the annual Benton Neighbor Days festival. Finally, he rumbled to the starting line.

While in many ways, the Benton Neighbor Days resembles any number of other small-town carnivals, the mud races are the premier draw. Racers from around the area compete for the fastest time down a straight track about the length of a football field, which is, of course, made of deep, sucking mud. Some racers are staples of the event, such as Randy Cox and his white, open-air ride.

But usually there are also first-timers, such as Rodney Benson of Scott City. Waiting for his turn to race, Benson said he’s a longtime racer, just not on a mud track.

“I like to keep my ride clean,” he said. “But I bought this three or four years ago to fix it up, so I figured I would take it out here once and get it muddy.”

Benson said he started drag racing in ’86, and the mud reminds him of the type of racing he dabbled in as a young man.

“When I was a kid, everybody done it,” he said. “Everybody that had a four-wheel-drive.”

He said he was confident his street skills would translate to mud.

“It’s got a motor and wheels, so it kind of goes hand-in-hand,” he said, watching his youngest grandson, Drew, play in the cab of his truck. “And I’m thinking I might pass it along.”

He said for better or worse, the 6-year-old had shown he might have what it takes to make a hobby of racing.

“Ain’t nothing fast enough for him,” Benson said with a smile. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a lawn mower in the yard, even. I’ll make a racer out of him.”

Back on the mud track, Matthew Jenkins wasn’t primarily concerned with going fast. He figured for his first run, the main objective was just to not stall out.

On the sidelines, some spectators expressed their doubts. Matthew’s 20-inch wheels weren’t quite as big or as tready as most of the other mudders’. But the kid pulled it off.

It wasn’t especially fast, and two thirds of the way down, it looked as though he might stall out.

“Stay in it!” Rick yelled, almost jumping up and down with excitement. “Give it hell!”

Rocking the wheel left and right, Matthew was able to maintain his momentum and push across the finish line. Rick didn’t hear the time called. It didn’t matter. He was already running through the parking lot toward the finish line. He hugged his son through the window of the mud-spattered truck.

“You did it!” he said. “I’m so proud of you! They were talking trash on the tires, you shoulda heard ’em. But how do you like those 20-inch rockstars now?”

Grinning and sweaty, Matthew was already thinking about next year’s race.

“I’d like to have no worries,” he said.

“Yeah, we could probably get at least a couple hundred more horsepower in it.” Rick said. “We spend all the time we can working on it. But we wouldn’t have it any different, would we bub?”

“That’s right,” his son agreed.