Vancil is a man who laughs and smiles a lot, and his soft-spoken Albuquerque twang makes him sound like the guy next door with whom you wouldn't mind sharing a beer. At 33, he stands just under six feet tall, weighs around 150 pounds, and has a good-looking wife who works as a hairdresser. You only start to get suspicious when you learn that Julie Vancil is also, literally, half the team's crew, and spends her time on race weekends changing the bike's oil, swapping its plugs, and mixing its deadly brew of nitromethane. (Doug is the other half-head rider, head wrench-and has put most of the bike together himself.) Then it doesn't take long to realize that Doug's easy manner has lured you into a false sense of security, letting you think that any Nice Guy could ride a fast bike for a living. Because as Doug starts to wander around his bike, pointing out various go-fast bits, admitting that nitromethane "smells good" and telling stories about "the time I hit the timing lights at 175 mph and had to get stitched up right away so I could make my fourth pass and get paid," you begin to understand that only a madman could ever conceivably control (another relative term) one of these things.