Drag racing tracks aren't just spinning their wheels.

A 1970 red Chevrolet El Camino and a 1969 white Chevy Nova pull up to the starting line at the Brotherhood Raceway Park on Terminal Island in San Pedro. From a booth above the track, volunteer official Curtis Tigges pushes a button and the light at the starting line turns green. Off go the two cars zooming down the eighth-of-a-mile stretch.

The El Camino finishes first. "The El Camino runs a six-forty-five, six-forty-five, a six-forty-five," clamors announcer Tomiko Robinson.

Any time under seven seconds is considered a respectable time for a drag race, notes mechanic Chester Austin, speaking above the din of revving engines as he leans against the cement barriers to watch the races.

In the sport of drag racing, two vehicles begin side-by-side at the starting line, wait for a green light and then "put the pedal to the metal," says Tomiko's husband, Willie Robinson III, president of the National & International Brotherhood of Street Racers Inc., based out of his Inglewood home. The racers try to beat each other to the finish line and "leave the other car sitting in the dust," Robinson says.

Brotherhood Raceway Park, one of only two legal drag race tracks in Los Angeles County, opened in November. The other track is in Palmdale.

This is actually the Brotherhood Raceway Park's re-opening. Drag racers vied legally on Terminal Island from 1974 to 1984, but the Los Angeles Harbor Commission closed it down and dug up the dirt there to mix it with dirt being dredged from the harbor for landfill, Robinson says.

For the ensuing nine years, he lobbied the City of L.A. for a new site, at one time almost securing acreage on Los Angeles International Airport land, but to no avail.

Robinson touts drag racing as a sport that brings the community together, crossing racial, gender and generation gaps. When Rodney King was beaten in 1991, Robinson's drag racing was seen by politicians as a way to bring the city together, he says. With the help of L.A. Mayor Richard Riordan and the new Los Angeles Harbor Commission, Robinson was eventually able to secure the track's original site, Robinson says.

The track is open every Saturday and Sunday and draws a crowd of about 1,000 each day -- a combination of both drivers and onlookers. Each entrant is charged $10 to get in but nothing extra to race. The $10 pays for insurance, overhead, the $1-per-month rent the Brotherhood pays to the city, two fire inspectors and the Los Angeles Port Police, who like to look on as the racers zoom by. Despite the police presence, or possibly because of it, there have been no criminal incidents at the track so far, Robinson says.

"Run what you brung," is the track's motto, Tomiko Robinson says.

This motto is taken very literally. Even this reporter was asked when she pulled up to the entrance if she planned to race her 1985 Nissan 200 SX. No thanks. Even without the participation of the speed-resistant Nissan, the races on one recent Saturday afternoon were a bit bizarre.

Two kids, one on an off-road bike and one on a miniature motor bike, raced each other, with the bicyclist letting go of a small parachute from the rear of his vehicle at the race's conclusion.

One man raced his truck backwards, while everything from Volkswagen bugs to a brand-new Cadillac Seville also took their turns speeding down the track that day.

Drag racers say the sport is exhilarating, and they love the thrill of competition. "It's hard to explain unless you try it yourself," says Torrance resident Vince Jamora. "It's like jumping off a cliff with a parachute."

"I like being able to win the race with less of a car," says Austin, referring to a cars that doesn't have as powerful an engine or as many features as opponents' cars.

The sport is very socially oriented because the racers often have to wait in line for a couple of hours before their turn to race comes up. Many racers get out of their cars and schmooze while they're waiting.

"It's like going to the same church. We all have something in common," says Will, a guy in his teens, as he hangs out with his friends from Cerritos. (Will didn't want his last name used for fear his mom would find out he was drag racing.)

Dan Foley, who builds engines for drag racers, says he has been around the sport for 30 years. He used to drag race himself, but doesn't do it anymore, he says. Thing is, he's blind, and used to drive with someone riding "shotgun" beside him, he says.

Another clean-cut, yuppie-looking gentleman was in line to race a brand-new, four-door, white 530i BMW that he was test driving. "What better way to test-drive a car," he says. He didn't want his name used either for fear the dealership would find out.

There are few prizes for the winners -- the racing is done strictly for fun. But sometimes a business gives a cash prize to the fastest car of the day. On this particular Saturday, Chet Herbert Race Cars of Anaheim was giving away $100. Gregg Suyenaga, who was driving a 1976 purple and green Chevrolet Vega, won that day.

The only other legal drag racing track in L.A. County is in Palmdale. This Los Angeles County Raceway has facilities for both drag racing and motorcross, says owner Bernie Longjohn.

The Palmdale track raked in about $1 million in gross revenues during the fiscal year ended Feb. 28, 1993, but about 85 percent of that was given away in purses, Longjohn says.

Drag race tracks are not particularly profitable, he says, noting insurance is costly and he is sued a dozen times a year by spectators who suffer minor injuries watching the sport.

Far less dramatic than one might suspect, the Palmdale track's legal hassles typically arise when "Johnnie trips and hurts his toe," rather than as a result of injuries to the racers themselves, he says.