Every once in a while, a father will have one of those moments where everything falls into place, and he looks like he knows what he's doing — and suddenly, he feels like Dad of the Year.
It happened to Zane Rettew.
He was so intent on building his monster truck — an extremely technical and expensive undertaking — that he realized he hadn't actually designed the truck's body. He had no idea what it should look like. And it was only a month before the truck's first show.
Then, he had a brilliant idea. He asked his 4-year-old son to draw some ideas for him. His son drew a scorpion-shaped truck with a tail poised to strike, and “Stinger” was born.
“He drew it, and we ran with it,” says Rettew, 29, of Lancaster. “And we had someone make the body for us.”
Stinger is coming to Pittsburgh from Feb. 12 through 14 to compete in Monster Jam along with Grave Digger and six other giant trucks.
It took Rettew only a short time to figure out that having a regular job wasn't really for him. Like many young men, he lacked direction.
“I've only had a normal job six months of my life,” Rettew says. “I was raised on a dairy farm. After high school, I lasted six months and knew it wasn't for me. I started as a crew member for another Monster Jam team. That's when we started saving, thinking about owning our own truck. I'd never go back to a 9-to-5 (job).”
Building a monster truck — if you do it right, and you want to do it right, because shortcuts aren't safe — can cost a lot of money.
“Start saving,” Rettew advises. “We have probably have about $250,000 invested now. We just built a new truck. It's a huge risk, but it's paying off.
“The cool thing about monster trucks is that we get paid to show up. We have to do a good job for Monster Jam for them to keep using us, but we have a pretty huge fan base, and, thankfully, it keeps growing. I have a huge passion for it.”
Another thing about monster trucks — sometimes they can hurt.
“I guess your body gets immune to it,” Rettew says. “Even with the best shocks, seats, cage, you're still taking a 10,000-pound truck and throwing it up in to the air, and you're strapped into it and landing. Your body takes a lot of abuse. Your head and neck really can't move. It's like being in a car accident every day.
“I don't think they're dangerous. I don't know anybody who's been seriously injured. (But) I know when I come back into the pit area, I might be a little sore. We tried a backflip last summer and didn't rotate enough, and landed on the cage. From 20 feet (in the air) down, 10,000 pounds on the cage, and (I) was completely unharmed. If you can do that and walk away, you're not scared of anything.”
Not unlike dairy farming, monster trucking seems like it could become a family business for the Rettews. Rettew already has a decade in the business.
“I want to do this another 10 to 15 years, and then my oldest boy will be ready, and I can sit on the sidelines and fix it for him,” he says. “All three of my kids are (interested in driving monster trucks).
“They better start saving.”
Michael Machosky is a Tribune-Review staff writer. Reach him at machosky@tribweb.com or 412-320-7901.
