E-Mail This Article to a Friend Into the belly of the GOP beast As Boston prepared to welcome the Democrats, Reggie the Registration Rig hit the NASCAR circuit in Loudon, New Hampshire, to spread the good news about George W. Bush BY ADAM REILLY

IT’S HARD TO DISLIKE Deke and Christine Henderson. Actually, it’s impossible, for the simple reason that the Hendersons are extremely nice people. Deke Henderson is a compact, muscular 49-year-old who wears cowboy boots, smokes Marlboro Menthol Ultra Lights, and speaks with the kind of folksy American drawl George W. Bush affects but can’t get quite right. Christine Henderson, a pretty woman with olive skin, looks a bit younger than her husband; ask her age, and she says only that she’s in her 40s. Both Hendersons are courteous and friendly and have appealing conversational tics. When he’s pensive, Deke absently strokes his walrus mustache. Christine gazes into the distance at similar moments, but then gestures expressively or breaks into easy laughter when something animates or amuses her.

In other words, the Republican National Committee picked the right man and woman for the job. Because the Hendersons aren’t just a friendly couple from Omaha. For the last five months, they’ve been charged with conveying Reggie the Registration Rig — the 79-foot, 20-ton semi the RNC is using to register voters and spread the good news about our nation’s president — from city to city, state to state, NASCAR race to county fair to minor-league baseball game. If all goes according to plan, the Hendersons will have driven tens of thousands of miles and helped the Republicans register three million new voters by the time their journey is complete. And along the way, they’ll have a chance to offer their version of Republicanism — one that is tolerant, optimistic, and more than a little bit vague — to countless Americans whose political identities are still unformed.

ON THE JULY 23 weekend, just before the Democratic National Convention kicks off in Boston, the Hendersons’ travels bring them to Loudon, New Hampshire. Loudon is home to the New Hampshire International Speedway, site of the Siemens 300 — a race in this year’s NASCAR Nextel Cup series — on Sunday afternoon. Smug Yankees who dismiss NASCAR as a bizarre Southern fixation should visit Loudon next time a comparable event comes through town. More than 100,000 spectators pack the grandstands to watch the Siemens 300 on Sunday, but that number doesn’t do justice to the massive turnout. By Saturday morning, a sort of miniature city — like something you’d expect to see at the site of a medieval battleground — has sprung up around the speedway’s scrubby grounds. At 10 a.m., middle-aged men can be seen standing on the side of the road doing shots of Jägermeister while young parents lead toddlers through oceans of RVs. At their temporary homes, campers barbecue, play horseshoes, or just sit around getting shitfaced. American flags and Dale Earnhardt Jr. beach towels float in the breeze on makeshift flagpoles, yellow-ribbon SUPPORT OUR TROOPS bumper stickers are ubiquitous, and New England license plates are the norm.

I find Reggie parked in this miniature city’s de facto downtown, next to the Speed Channel stage and across from another truck selling noise-dampening race headsets, Jeff Gordon pajamas, and checkered-flag bikinis. A collapsible stage on the left side of the truck is dominated by four huge, flat TVs that run the same video loop of President Bush in action again and again, interspersed with text that distills his presidency into easy-to-grasp phrases. See Bush talking to black elementary-school students as a beaming Laura Bush looks on. JOBS AND GROWTH. See Maryland lieutenant governor Michael Steele, who is African-American, praising Bush. LEADERSHIP. See Bush confidently stride to a podium by himself; confidently leave Air Force One with Laura; confidently walk to another podium with Tony Blair by his side. See American troops hanging out with happy kids of indeterminate Middle Eastern extraction, who smile and give the thumbs-up. See Bush, looking determined, hold his hand on his chest during the Pledge of Allegiance. YES! I AM A REPUBLICAN. Back to the black elementary schoolers.

The RNC’s go-to catch phrases for Bush-Cheney ’04 are emblazoned beneath the TVs: STEADY LEADERSHIP IN TIMES OF CHANGE — GREATER SECURITY, GREATER FREEDOM, GREATER COMPASSION, GREATER PROSPERITY. At two long tables, draped with flag-motif tablecloths and covered with Republican swag (A "Racing to Victory" Styrofoam beer-can holder with a jazzed-up Stars and Stripes superimposed over a checkered flag; red-white-and-blue "GOP" hats), local volunteers answer questions and sign up voters. Two X-Boxes — one with a NASCAR game, the other with a baseball game — sit unused in the corner. Speakers mounted on the stage blast music of nonspecific genre while another volunteer shouts to passers-by like a carny barker: "We got all your politics and fun together in the same place! Temporary tattoos for the younger ones. It’s a huge election year. Everyone knows what’s at stake. The races don’t start until this afternoon anyway. Come on by!"