STEPPING INTO THE BIG LEAGUES: OUR FIRST YEAR IN THE 4400 UNLIMITED CLASS

There’s a moment in every racer’s life when you decide it’s time to step up—not someday, not eventually, but right now. For our team, that moment came late last fall, just a couple months before King of the Hammers 2025. After a few years of running the 4800 Legends class and proudly finishing each year, we felt it in our bones: it was time to run with the big dogs. Time to take on the unlimited 4400 class.

So when a 4400 car popped up for sale—the kind of machine you stop and stare at—we jumped. My dad and I booked the most covert, under-the-radar trip you can imagine, flew out to see it, and quickly knew this was it. No hesitation, no second-guessing. The following week, we hauled a trailer across state lines, loaded up our new weapon, and drove it home grinning like kids on Christmas.

Then came the hardest part: keeping it secret from the team until the scheduled “normal meeting.” That week felt like a month. But the look on everyone’s faces when they walked into the shop with it just parked there? Worth every second. Shock. Excitement. Pure adrenaline. We weren’t just talking about racing the unlimited class—we were doing it.

And the clock was already ticking...

The new 4400 race car parked in the shop ready for unveiling to the team.

PREP MODE: FULL SEND, ZERO SLEEP

The ad said “race ready,” but anyone who’s ever bought a used race car knows those words only mean: it's an assembled race car. To win, you put in the wrench time—many hours of it. And we had less than two months before the lakebed.

We tore into everything we could:

• Ryan dove into all eight shocks, rebuilding them like a mad scientist.

• We sent the rear 3rd member to Gearworks—which took longer than expected and required more patience than we had planned, but eventually came through just in time.

• We installed new seats and dialed them perfectly for Eric and me.

• Rebuilt the dash so Eric could navigate cleanly.

• Wired in Starlink, which was its own puzzle.

• Tested the motor compression and leakdown—which prompted me to pull the driver-side head to fix a leaky valve and buttoned the motor back up.

This list would go on forever, but you get the gist. Late in prep—dangerously late—Will and I inspected the front CVs. What we found looked like they had survived a small war. So I ordered new ones from RCV. That’s where things got stressful.

When the CVs arrived, the box felt too light. Sure enough—only half the order made it. I spent over a week trying to get it sorted. They eventually helped resolve it, but we were now on the lakebed still missing the front axles. Not ideal. Gearworks shipped the 3rd member literally the day before we left. That was our prep vibe: solving problems right down to the minute. Back home, I look at photos from that week and laugh—because the car was half disassembled with just days left on the countdown. But the team dug in, put in ridiculous hours, and got it together enough to strap to the trailer. We’d finish the rest at KOH.

The day we were originally planning to leave for the lakebed…yes, the car really looked like this.

THE LAKEBED: WHERE THE CHAOS FEELS LIKE HOME

Eric, Brian, and Jason arrived first to claim camp. Dad and I rolled in that afternoon, and man… there’s no better feeling than seeing the lakebed appear on the horizon. Stress or not, once you’re there—it’s magic.

We parked the trailers, unloaded the car, and began setting up the garage space. We got things situated in preparation for the rest of the team to show up a few days later.

Then eventually came the CV saga, part two.

We finally got the parts, started assembly, and something felt wrong. Ryan and Brian were fighting with a midshaft that simply did not fit. Wrong size. Heart-sinking, stomach-dropping wrong. Panic mode activated.

More calls. RCV had three of the four we needed and sent them out. The fourth? I managed to hunt one down on the lakebed like it was a mythical artifact. Then we found out the shipment wasn’t actually sent overnight like we requested, but by some miracle, the parts showed up in the nick of time—the day before qualifying.

The team quickly worked on assembling the new front shafts and CVs while Scott and I looked for the nuts and bolts to hold them on the car. Long story short...I forgot the outer stub shaft nuts at home, you know, the ones that hold the alxe to the spindle? Thankfully Faith was about to head out, and she stopped by the shop to find them and bring them to the lakebed.

The team working hard to make the car 4wd the day before qualifying.

We squeezed in some desert prerunning, then at dusk, finally hit the qualifying course for a couple practice runs. It was dark, rough, and far from ideal, but we made it work. We got eyes and tires on the qualifying course, studied it, and preparred for the next day.

The lakebed at dusk — last chance to dial in before qualifying the next day.

QUALIFYING: FOUR MINUTES OF PURE FOCUS

The next morning, everything felt right. Eric and I sat silently in the car, helmets on, listening to the engine rumble beneath us. This was our first official run in the unlimited class. Years of hard work… and months of chaos led to this moment.

Creeping toward the start line, I felt my nerves go eerily calm. It was time.

Green flag. Go.

Driving up the front side of the qualifying course, letting the BFG tires eat and the motor sing.

The next four minutes were pure tunnel vision—speed, dust, instinct, teamwork. No hesitation, no mistakes. When that car launched over the final jump, Eric and I whooped inside our helmets. We nailed it. A clean, solid run. Mid-pack qualifying in our first 4400 attempt.

Back at camp, the team cheered. For the first time all week, we relaxed. And man, we needed the break.

Crossing the last jump of qualifying — the moment we knew we had a shot.

THE NIGHT BEFORE RACE DAY: LIFE HAPPENS

Just when we thought the surprises were done, life threw us a curveball in the best possible way: Brooke went into labor!

A month early I might add. There was also this other thing with betting on when her due date was going to be...thanks Scott for choosing race day.

Eric grabbed his gear and left the lakebed immediately. The man was about to become a dad.

That left one big question: who’s co-driving?

Brian stepped up—just like he joked he would months earlier. Except now it wasn’t a joke. With no practice, no prep together, and less than 12 hours before the green flag, he jumped into the pressure cooker without hesitation.

Go4Broke style.

Brian stepping up to suit up and navigate on race day — no hesitation.

RACE DAY: THROW THE PLAN OUT THE WINDOW

Race morning. Cold air, engines firing, the smell of race fuel and dust mixing into the world’s most intoxicating smell. Brian looked nervous—I don’t blame him. I told him the truth: “We made it to the start line. After the month we’ve had? That’s already a win.” But we weren’t done.

Green flag. Hammer down.

We ripped through the short course, and just a couple miles in, Brian’s window net catapulted off the car. Gone. We slammed on the brakes, bailed out, ran back to grab it, reshaped it with pure force, and jammed it back on.

Breathing hard. Laughing a little. Focus returning.

The desert opened up, and we found a rhythm. Slowly at first. Trust isn’t instant, especially between a driver and a brand-new co-driver. But halfway into the loop, we started to find our groove. And the pace jumped. The car felt incredible. Smooth. Fast. Confident.

Hit the main pit. Fuel. Quick inspection. Then straight into Lap 2: the first rock lap.

This is where our lack of prerunning began to show. Picking lines in real time, climbing Volkswagen-sized boulders, sliding off edges, winching around traffic jams—it was chaos. Beautiful, stressful chaos.

We kept moving. Kept fighting.

Racing up Her Problems.

Finding that alternate line at Jackhammer, racing through the rocks in front of all the spectators.

Three-quarters into Lap 2, we rolled into the remote pit, and there were some bumps and bruises on the car including a pretty leaky rear 3rd member. Brian was hurting. The rocks, the hits, the winching—it had pushed him past his limit. And safety always wins.

Making the call to pull out was crushing. But it was the right call. And it was one of the hardest choices I’ve ever made.

Driving back to camp in silence… that one stung deep.

Our first KOH we didn't finish.

Once back, we collected ourselves and ultimately smiled and celebrated all the hard work put down. In the end, that's racing! Sometimes...maybe most times, everything doesn't go in your favor. What really matters at the end of the day is are you still having fun? We did!

Back at camp celebrating all the hard work and even making it to the starting line and getting to race.

AFTER THE DUST SETTLES

A few days later, after decompressing, I reached out to Brian. I told him the truth:

There was nothing to feel bad about. He stepped into an impossible situation and gave everything. We made the start line. We made half the course. And we did it under the most chaotic prep year we’ve ever had. That’s something to be proud of.

I think back to last year and all the adversity we continue to overcome. It was wild, and to be honest, I think I blacked out some of it purely from all the stress. But it's all worth it. You don't do this because you like it. You do it because you love it. It has to be a part of you. Every minute in the shop or on the lakebed with the team is a minute I would never trade. I love spending time with them and sharing the crazy experience racing brings. I can't thank my team enough for all the memories we have made, and will continue making. The ultimate one being a podium celebration.

2025 tested us more than any season before. But through the challenges, one thing became undeniable:

We don’t quit. We don’t fold. We don’t break.

And we sure as hell don’t stop showing up.

2026: THE COMEBACK

The year rolled on with more personal hardships, but we kept moving forward. And as prep season hit, we did it the right way, the Go4Broke Racing way. The car has come down to bare chassis — every bolt, every bracket, every inch being inspected, improved, and perfected. No scramble. No chaos. Just disciplined, focused prep.

Because 2026 isn’t just another race. It’s the 20th anniversary of King of the Hammers. And we’re showing up with something to prove. We’re putting everything we have into this year. Everything we learned. Every hour, every mistake, every victory, every frustration. We’re building a machine worthy of the Hammers. We’re building a team worthy of the podium. We’re building a legacy.

Go4Broke Racing is coming back stronger, sharper, and hungrier than ever.

We will be the team to watch.

We will be the team to beat.

And this time—we’re gunning for the podium with everything we’ve got.

See you at the start line. KOH 2026 — here we come.