I’ll be honest. I used to guess on fuel. I’d splash some in, cross my fingers, and hope the car didn’t cough in a long right-hander. Then I bought a fuel scale. That little square pad changed my pit routine more than new pads or fancy tape ever did. (Here’s the full story of my first race weekend with the scale if you want the nitty-gritty.)
What I Used, Where I Used It
I race a Spec Miata in club events. Small team. Big cooler. Simple plan.
- My main unit: Intercomp digital fuel scale, 0–70 lb capacity. Big, flat, backlit screen. Runs on a 9V.
- A buddy loaned me a Longacre fuel scale at Road Atlanta. Similar size, same idea. That one had a nicer rubber pad.
Both work the same way. You set the jug on the pad, hit zero, and the scale tells you the weight of the fuel you add or burn. No math drama. No guesswork.
After juggling a few containers over the years, I eventually put the VP Racing fuel jug through its own torture test and was pleasantly surprised by how much cleaner the pours felt.
First Weekend It Paid Off
Buttonwillow, CW13. Hot as toast. I’d been cutting it close with fuel and getting tiny stumbles in Riverside when the tank was low. Not full-on fuel cut. Just a hiccup. Enough to make me lift.
On Saturday, I started with 4.0 gallons. I knew my gas weighs about 6.1 lb per gallon. So 4.0 gallons is about 24.4 lb. I wrote that on tape and stuck it on the jug.
- 20-minute practice: burned 1.8 gallons. The scale said I used about 11 lb. My notes said that matched 1.8 gallons. Nice and clean.
- 25-minute qual: burned about 2.1 gallons. Still smooth. No coughs.
- Race: I planned to finish with around 0.8–1.0 gallon in the tank, because that keeps my car happy in long rights.
I added fuel based on the exact burn. Not a guess. I crossed the line with about 0.9 gallon left. Felt light. No stumble. My lap delta dropped a tick. It wasn’t magic. But it was a real, calm change.
You know what? That calm matters.
Road Atlanta Was Even Clearer
Different track. Longer pulls. A lot more load.
I used a borrowed Longacre scale and tracked two sessions:
- 25-minute practice: 2.4 gallons burned.
- 20-minute qual: 1.9 gallons burned.
The scale’s “hold” button saved me when the paddock was busy and the jug wiggled. I ended up adding 2.2 gallons for the race and finished with roughly 0.7 gallon left. No starve through T12, which had bit me once last fall when I eyeballed it. Lesson learned. The weigh-in beat my gut feel by miles.
How I Use It Without Overthinking
Here’s the simple loop that stuck:
- Put empty jug on the scale. Hit zero.
- Pour in the fuel you want. The number on the screen is fuel weight.
- I use 6.1 lb per gallon for pump gas. E85 runs heavier for me, closer to 6.6 lb per gallon.
- After a session, I set the jug back on the pad and see what I burned. Then I write that down. That’s it.
I made a small “burn chart” on tape:
- 15 minutes = about 1.5 gallons
- 20 minutes = about 1.8–2.0 gallons
- 25 minutes = about 2.1–2.4 gallons
Heat and pace move it a bit. Draft helps, too. But the chart keeps me from guessing wild.
Little Setup Tricks That Helped
- The paddock is never flat. I set the scale on a piece of plywood. Then a thin towel on top. That stops the wobble and helps with glare.
- Wind will jiggle the reading. The “hold” button fixes that.
- Cold mornings can fog the screen. I keep the scale in the trailer until I need it.
- I bring a spare 9V. The battery door on my Intercomp is a bit flimsy, and the last thing I want is tape holding it shut. I still taped it. Because race week.
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If you’re comparing containers as hard as you’re comparing scales, you might like the time I hauled, poured, and spilled my way through a batch of racing fuel jugs to see which ones were worth keeping.
What I Loved
- It’s fast. I know my burn before I even get my gloves off.
- The backlight helps when you’re fueling under a canopy at dawn.
- Tare/zero makes funnels and hoses a non-issue.
- Peace of mind. No more “will it stumble out of 9?” talk on grid.
What Bugged Me
- The screen will drift if the pad rocks. You need a steady base.
- Condensation makes buttons cranky at sunrise.
- Not cheap. It’s a race tool, not a kitchen gadget.
- The platform fits a 5-gal jug fine, but those tall narrow cans tip if you bump them. Ask me how I smell after that one.
Real Gains, Not Hype
Weight matters. Fuel is weight. With the scale, I trimmed about 6–10 lb off my usual “safety splash” without risking a hiccup. That’s a little time on every climb and a bit less roll in transitions. It’s not a new motor. But stack small wins, and you feel it.
Also, I got fewer black-flag chats on drips. Clean pours. Clean pit. Small thing, big vibe shift.
Who Needs One
- Club racers who want tight fuel planning
- Endurance teams tracking stints and top-offs
- Kart folks chasing ounces (a simple postal scale can work, but the fuel pad is nicer)
- Anyone switching between pump gas and E85 and trying to keep notes straight
If you’re shopping for your own fuel scale, I found a concise roundup of current models on PdvRacing that’s worth a look before you click “buy.”
A Few Notes I Wish I’d Had Sooner
- Record temp. Hot days bump burn. Wild headwinds do too.
- Mark your jugs with “empty weight.” Saves time on math.
- Gas can foamy fill readings. Let bubbles settle before you lock a number.
- If your car coughs on rights when low, aim to finish with at least 0.8–1.0 gallon. Your number may vary. My Miata is picky.
My Verdict
I’d buy the Intercomp again. I like the display and the simple buttons. The Longacre was great too; it felt a touch sturdier under the jug. Both do the job.
Score? 4.5 out of 5 for me. It’s not flashy, but it’s the calm, steady tool that keeps my race plan clean. Less guessing, less stress, and fewer “did I add enough?” heart flutters on grid.
Funny thing—I thought a fuel scale was overkill. Now, it sits by the jack, right where I can grab it. And the car? It just runs. That’s all I want on race day.