Life in the Pit Lane

Imagine success at your job was measured in eight-second increments. The amount of time it takes a person to step into a pair of pants in the morning—that's how long you've got to prove to your boss you're worth keeping around. Several times a day, another human's well-being is in your hands as you tune up their multi-million dollar speed machine, and in the blink of an eye, push them back out onto a twisting and turning road course or oval track in what is essentially a fighter jet on wheels.

Welcome to IndyCar's pit lane, where every second matters, where even a single dropped wheel nut can botch the entire operation and at best be the difference between winning and losing. At worst, it can be the difference between life or death.

"It's a bang-bang thing," says 41-year-old Corey Odenbrett, a pit crew veteran who was changing the inside rear tire for A.J. Foyt's Takuma Sato at the recent Honda Indy race in Toronto. "It all happens pretty fast."

Odenbrett, who has been on pit crews for two Indy 500 winners, is actually understating the speed at which six over-the-wall members and five other pit workers jack up the car, replace its four tires and refuel its tank before sending their driver back on his or her way. Fast doesn't begin to do it justice—blink and you'll miss it.

Most pit crews practice daily and adhere to fitness and workout regiments in order to grab even the slightest advantage in a sport where fractions of seconds separate winners and losers. The goal of a pit stop is pretty straightforward from a crew's point of view. They at minimum want to send the driver back out in the same position he or she came in with, and at best send them back out ahead of the pack.

"The philosophy is that it's easier to make up spots in the pit lane than it is on the race track," Odenbrett says. "Any time you can get your driver out ahead of the others, you're giving him a huge advantage."

Working in IndyCar since 1997, he's felt triumph and tragedy around the track. He's driven team trucks, worked as a mechanic and been a part of some prime pit crews, including the powerhouse Penske team of 2009 that helped Helio Castroneves capture the Indy 500 pole position and championship. That year's crew also won the pit stop competition, giving them a mini-triple crown for the weekend.

Two years later, while spending some time away from IndyCar, Odenbrett was called in for spot duty to work on Dan Wheldon's underdog Bryan Herta Autosport pit crew and helped the British driver to his second Indy 500 championship. No one saw it coming. That win was especially important for Odenbrett, as Wheldon died in a crash five months later at Las Vegas Motor Speedway.

"That one felt more special. It was like David vs. Goliath," Odenbrett says. "The team that wasn't supposed to win and did. You took a little more satisfaction out of that one. No one thought you could do it. With Dan's death later that year, it makes it a special memory to be a part of it."

Odenbrett, married with three kids, has unexpectedly led an exciting life, especially when he considers his small-town origins in the corn belt of Iowa. He grew up thinking his career options were limited to either being a farmer or truck driver. Odenbrett chose the latter, and like many of his peers began hauling grain when he graduated high school in the early 1990s. After about four years on the job, a friend who worked in racing tipped him off to a trucking job that would see him hauling slightly more precious cargo, in the form of $3 million race cars.

After spending several years behind the wheel of big rigs, he worked his way up to a mechanic's role, and eventually found his way to pit work. The rest is history.

Odenbrett's job has taken him around the world, to Japan, Brazil and Australia. He's worked with some of racing's most legendary figures, brushed elbows with celebrities, and been a part of some of the most accomplished teams in motorsport. Looking back on it all, he can't help but be grateful.

"Until I went to work in racing I'd barely driven on the interstate," said Odenbrett, who recently went back to his old truck-driving duties for Honda, and does pit work on the side. "It was all county roads and highways. I've had a lot of opportunities and doors opened for me that I probably wouldn't have had if I stayed living in Iowa.

"This job keeps its 'wow' factor."