At the track, it's easy to find Martha Nemecheck. She's the woman strolling the Winston Cup garage wearing a colorful one-of-a-kind, hand-crafted blouse proudly displaying her son Joe's number and name across the shoulder blades. She's NASCAR's equivalent to a soccer mom and she rarely misses a race.

While many mothers cringe at the thought of their children being involved in motorsports, Martha embraced it. Perhaps because of her own background as a 'Powder Puff' racer. Admittedly, she had little success behind the wheel but fondly remembers how much fun it was.

"I was young and I was pretty. I'm not bragging, that's what everybody said," Nemechek recalls with a chuckle. "Then I'd always go to the track and the boys would always say, 'Hey Martha, come drive my car. You don't have to pay me if you wreck it.' They just wanted a date with me, that's all."

One driver, Joe Nemechek Sr., did get that coveted date. They eventually married and had four children -- Marty, Joe, Mark and John.

During their school days, each of the Nemechek children was very active and Martha was incredibly supportive.

"I was their room mother and car pooler," Nemechek said. "I even had a sign on my car that read 'Mom's Taxi.'"

That taxi traveled all over their home state of Florida, especially when the boys began racing motorcycles in their early teens.

Joe started when he was 13, but made the transition to stock cars in less than three years.

"When (Joe) was almost 16 he kind of lied about his age and got into a mini-stock. That started his (auto) racing," Martha said.

Notice she said, "kind of lied." Like most mothers she discouraged lying. But this fib, at least in her mind, was justified.

"I was so happy when he got off of the motorcycles. Because all three of my boys raced motorcycles and to me motorcycles are much more dangerous than cars," she said.

Unfortunately, there is an element of danger in all forms of motorsports. In 1997 Martha realized a mother's worse fear when her son John was tragically killed in a NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series race in Homestead, Fla.

"After I lost John it was the hardest thing for me to go through," Nemechek said. "I was to the highest point in my life with my family then when I lost John I went to the bottom."

At the time, Joe was quickly climbing the NASCAR ladder. He won the 1992 Busch Series championship and was developing into a competitive Winston Cup driver with Felix Sabates Racing.

Nonetheless, Martha was heartbroken and her motherly instincts compelled her to make a passionate appeal.

"I told Joe I wanted him to quit and he said, 'Momma you always told us in our lives you wanted us to be happy. He said, 'Momma, this is why I'm happy. This is what I love to do,'" she said. "(Joe) said, 'please don't ask me to quit. I can't Momma it's what I live for. My family, my children and I love to race.' So I had to accept what he wants and I back whatever my children do."

It took some time before Martha returned to the track, but once she did she found support throughout the NASCAR community. Since then, her dedication has been unwavering.

There is no doubt Martha Nemechek's legacy will be her photographs. She carries three cameras to the track and shoots several rolls of film per weekend. But it's this lifelong hobby that nearly got her kicked out of several events during Joe's high school athletic days.

"Joe played baseball and soccer and people would say, 'Miss Nemechek, if you don't sit down we're gonna have to make you go," she said with a laugh. "Our kids would get so embarrassed. When I went to take pictures I'd be right on the line, my kids would always say, 'Mom did you have to take those pictures?'

But now, thousands of snap shots later, Martha knows that her efforts are appreciated.

"Joe, he'll say 'do you remember when?' and I'll go to that (photo album) and I'll pick it out," she said. "I'll say Joe, 'look at these pictures.' And He'll give me a kiss on the cheek and he says, 'Mom I'm so happy now that you took these pictures.' Back then (the children) would always give me static.' But I'd say, 'shut up and sit down and just stand there and you smile.'"

If you're like me, I'm sure you're reading this and saying, 'Wow, that reminds me of someone.' Which may explain why so many people in the Winston Cup garage, other than Joe, affectionately call Martha Nemechek, 'Mom.'