From moonshine running to land speed records: The unlikely history of NASCAR

Tune into a NASCAR Cup Series race today, and you’ll be greeted by what is effectively the Formula 1 of the stock car world: High-powered race cars compete all-out for hundreds of miles as strategy algorithms and technology continue to evolve.

Yet NASCAR’s roots lie in two very different places: In Prohibition-era moonshine running in the South, and in Florida’s brief history as a coveted land-speed record locale. Today, we’ll break down how those two very different disciplines combined to create the Cup Series we know to day.

NASCAR vs. The Law: Southern moonshine running

Chances are, if you’ve heard of NASCAR, then you’ve heard that it got its start as a bunch of good ol’ boys down in the southern United States souping up their jalopies to outrun police trying to tamp down the rampant Prohibition-era moonshine business that sprung up the moment alcohol was banned. But how did that turn into an organized race series?

First, let’s back up. Between 1920 and 1933, the United States amended its Constitution to outlaw the manufacture, sale, and transportation of alcoholic beverages. Despite that, there were still plenty of people out there who wanted to drink, and drink they did. Bootleggers produced and sold alcohol while speakeasies — secret, underground drinking establishments — popped up in big cities. In more metropolitan areas, this illegal activity allowed criminal gangs to gain a strong foothold in America.

But down in the southern and Appalachian states of America, where communities were spread out in rural areas, the unsanctioned manufacture and sale of alcohol had been going on since the late 1700s, as locals rebelled against the idea that they should have to pay government tax on their drinks.

A large part of the rural alcohol trade relied on transportation: It didn’t really matter how much moonshine you made if you weren’t able to transport it from your still to your customer. The automobile had made its way down into those rural communities and became the de facto mode of transport for bootleggers and moonshine runners.

But to be truly effective, those cars needed to be modified. They needed to be faster than the police cars and needed to be able to maintain those high speeds on rough mountain roads without damaging the product. When Henry Ford introduced his V8 engine, there was finally enough power for these moonshine runners to evade the police — though they still relied on absurd distraction tactics like smoke screens, oil slicks, or buckets of tacks they could be deployed in the event of a big chase.

The result was that a lot of folks got really good at modifying their cars to make them faster, and, used to hunting for every possible way to make a buck, those ‘shine runners started bringing their high-speed cars out to local race tracks in hopes of competing for a cash prize.

The tracks of the day were nothing special; they were generally short dirt ovals originally used for horse racing at the local county fair. Compared to outrunning the cops, a race was pretty simple.

The repeal of Prohibition didn’t completely wipe out the illegal alcohol trade — after all, there was still a strong desire to avoid high government taxes on liquor — but it did signal a shift in fortunes for the former runners. They needed to diversify, and racing was a great option.

But the early stock car racing scene in America was chaotic and disorganized. Former bootleggers were barred from some of the more “legitimate” race tracks due to their criminal record; as a result, they turned to sketchier events that could easily end up with a race promoter running off with the purse money before the checkered flag.

These drivers had their cars. They had a vague idea of the kind of racing they wanted to do. They just didn’t have the organization.

To find it, they’d have to turn to Florida.

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NASCAR vs. nature: Daytona Beach’s land-speed record history

Many fans know about NASCAR’s moonshine-running roots, but fewer are familiar with the sport’s deep ties to Daytona Beach, Florida — and the town’s long history in the world of land-speed records.

All the way back in 1903, two friends set out to see whose horseless carriage was the fastest by organizing a race on the flattest, straightest bit of land they could find: The hard-packed sand at Daytona Beach, Florida. It would change American motorsport history forever.

Remember, cars weren’t going too fast back then, which meant that a stretch of beach was more than enough to accommodate a car picking up speed, maintaining speed, and the decelerating. Record-setters of the time didn’t need the vast expanse of the Bonneville Salt Flats quite yet, and were more than content with what Daytona had to offer.

The first proper record attempt at Daytona came on January 26, 1906 when a man named Fred H. Marchriott powered his steam-powered Stanley to 121.57 miles per hour — faster than anything that had run before by over 10 miles per hour.

Another early attempts were made at Daytona by Indy 500 winner Ralph DePalma in 1919, but in the late 1920s, a fierce battle for the title of fastest man alive came down to Henry Segrave and Malcolm Campbell. It was Segrave who made Daytona Beach his home, breaking first the 200-mph barrier, then the 230-mph barrier, the 250-mph barrier, the 275-mph barrier, and the 300-mph barrier over the course of a decade.

By 1935, though, it was clear that a change of scenery was necessary considering the rapidly increasing speeds of these record-setters, and off those racers went to Bonneville. For the folks at Daytona, who had reaped the benefits of international tourism thanks to its association with the glamorous land-speed record scene, that was something of a disaster.

Desperate to maintain a steady stream of visitors and aspiring racers, Daytona Beach officials approached the best local racer they knew: Sig Haugdahl. Please, they begged him — please design a race course. If you can, we have a $5,000 purse ready for the competitors, and we anticipate some huge crowds.

Haugdahl, who was born in Norway before moving to Minnesota and falling in love with motorsport, quickly dreamed up a 3.2-mile course that took advantage of both the beach and the A1 highway.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be a total disaster. Ticket sellers turned up just before the race kicked off to find that locals had flocked to the best viewpoints around the track hours before. Then, to make things even worse the race had to be ended early because the sandy road course turns had become virtually impassable.

After losing a whopping $22,000, the city of Daytona Beach swore off race promotion in the immediate aftermath, but Haugdahl felt he was onto something. He was prepared to organize and promote a race himself… he just needed a little help. Enter Bill France.

France was born in Washington D.C. and had gotten a start competing on local oval tracks before he left for Daytona Beach in 1935 with just $100 in his pocket. He was hoping to take advantage of the international land-speed record scene by opening a race shop but found that he was just a little too late — though, not too late to start hashing out the details of a 1937 Daytona Beach race with Sig Haugdahl.

That event was also a mess. Despite a measly $100 purse, they still managed to lose money, and Haugdahl called it quits. Bill France, though, was determined that he was onto something, and he began scheduling multiple events at the track per year. By the time World War II came and went, France had taken over a handful of local Florida race tracks.

Drivers and teams loved turning up to France’s tracks because they knew they were actually going to get paid. At we mentioned above, it was pretty common for drivers to show up to a race track and compete, only to find out afterward that the promoter had taken off with all the purse and ticket money.

That kind of behavior kept motorsport firmly in the amateur ranks — but France was convinced that, with a little honesty and some organization, racing could be a profitable enterprise for everyone involved: teams, drivers, and race promoters.

So, on February 21, 1948, Bill France invited a group of drivers, mechanics, car owners, and race promoters to the Ebony Bar at the Streamline Hotel in Daytona Beach.

Together, they hashed out the rules of a little race series that became known as the National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing, NASCAR. All NASCAR races would be run according to the same set of rules, and drivers would be guaranteed a certain amount of money for showing up to race.

It was a hugely transformative move for American motorsport, and it led to the rapid explosion of stock car racing.

Gone were the days of unscrupulous moonshine runners trying to find a new way to use their modified cars. In its place was a fast-growing series that soon justified construction of a stunning 2.5-mile superspeedway in place of that old Daytona beach course.

In 1956, the first race was held at Daytona International Speedway and three years later, the Daytona 500 was born. So, while moonshine running might have given NASCAR its cars, it was the Daytona Beach land-speed records that soon brought it its organization.

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