Pat Gerber, 21-Year-Old Monster Truck Driver
By Skylaire Alfvegren
Transformed for the weekend, Del Mar Raceway plays host to a typical motorsport extravaganza featuring tractor pulls, drag racing, demolition derbies, and those kingly icons of the white trash world, monster trucks. Children and Neanderthals crowd the bleachers, running rampant in a hurricane of pot bellies, red-to-white tan lines and denim. Tarty, buxom women fan themselves in the heat or dispense promotional beef jerky.
"Are there any Dodge fans out there?" The announcer screams, veins bulging from the collar of his grey work shirt. Half a dozen heavily modified American trucks gun their monsterous (575 cubic inch) engines and circle the arena in ritual anticipation. Ghoulish graphics or feats of manliness are airbrushed onto fiberglass bodies christened The Gravedigger, The Terminator, Monster Patrol or Nitemare, and are festooned with regulation five-and-a-half foot tires. Particularly popular with children, the larger-than-life vehicles overwhelm their simple sensory needs with blinding paint jobs and the instant Tinnitus created by 1,500 horsepowered engines. The primal desire to crush, maim and conquer is satisfied as the parade of junked '70s sedans is obliterated in timed 'trials', half-minute automotive orgasms.
This Independence Day, Pat Gerber has dyed his cropped hair fire engine red and his goatee, turquoise, which are a striking contrast to the canary yellow of his truck, The Shocker. But it's more than just a creative flair that sets Gerber apart from his more down home competitors. At 21, Gerber is the youngest professional monster truck driver in the short but fiery history of the sport.
Gerber is known on the circuit as the token upstart. "It's the hair. Last June I dyed it red, then two shades of green, blue and then blonde, and finally purple for Altamont." Once you get past the glamour of the arena, you find Gerber to be an achingly typical 21-year-old, non-plussed by his profession. Like children born on farms or to globetrotting missionaries, he sees his monster truck simply as the tool of his trade. He professes a love of 'alternative' music and if you ask nicely, will show you the maniacal clown tattooed on his right bicep. An only child, his truck has helped him get the attention he requires.
Bob Chandler created monster trucks when he built the original Bigfoot in 1974 by grafting industrial sized tires onto his Ford pick-up to promote his repair shop. "I was just a little older than Pat when I opened my 4by4 repair shop in 1968," Says Pat's amicable father, Ed, who raced 'mud boggers', early versions of monster trucks equipped with tractor tires, when the concept first came to the West Coast. To this day, most drivers who race for a living subsidize their competitions by being owner-operators like Chandler or Ed. "The majority of the drivers are my age, in their late 40s, early 50s," says Ed. "Some of them get mad at Pat because he makes them look bad! It's hard to be daring when you have to go back to the shop Monday." Pat doesn't have their responsibilities. He shrugs "I can have more fun."
