PORT ROYAL, Pa. – Kyle Larson pulled a black beanie over his head, grabbed a marker from the drawer, and stepped out of his trailer toward a growing flock of fans.

Since May, that’s been his common post-race sequence, with the exception of a periodic shift in headgear depending on the weather, which was brisk on this particular October night at Port Royal Speedway. It was just after his 40th dirt-track win of the season.

Even though it had been such a routine process, and though he had just increased his winning rate back to 50 percent, there was no staleness between Larson and the fans.

Larson posed for pictures and signed autographs. Fans smiled, and he smiled with them.

In a world full of hurt in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, Larson has given people something to cling to with his electric brand of racing and friendly nature.

His versatility has woven racing communities together, as he’s collected dirt victories in a sprint car, late model, midget, and a USAC Silver Crown car.

It amounts to one of the more-memorable seasons in motorsports history, with 42 wins, highlighted by victories at the Lucas Oil Chili Bowl Nationals, The One and Only at Knoxville, the Hoosier Hundred, a dozen total World of Outlaws Sprint Car Series victories, and even a Lucas Oil Late Model Dirt Series triumph.

What makes this season truly remarkable, though, is that Larson has helped people smile in a year of so much hurt.

“He’s given us so much joy, so much happiness,” Edward Radesky, a photographer in central Pennsylvania, said after Larson’s 40th win of the season at Port Royal. “I mean, look at this crowd. There’s about 50 people still standing here, half an hour after the race is over, and they’re still waiting for their hero to get an autograph.”

Larson stayed well over 45 minutes, and once everyone got what they came for, he turned back to the trailer. On the edge laid a large, clear bin that contained a photo album made by Radesky spotlighting Larson’s finest moments in central Pennsylvania.

“I just wanted to share his story of the year here in Pennsylvania, so he always has a memory of being here,” Radesky said. “I just hope he remembers his time in Pennsylvania as a great year. It started out with a mistake, and he took some training on it, and he’s gotten better.

“Hopefully he can teach other people how to get back up from a mistake and hard times.”

Larson’s mistake is widely known: he used the N-word over a live stream of a virtual race in April, during the height of the sports shutdown due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Quickly fired from his NASCAR Cup Series ride with Chip Ganassi Racing, Larson was left ashamed and wondering how such mountainous damage would resolve, or if it ever would.

So he looked inward.

He educated himself on issues surrounding racial tension. He served in communities of color, letting his work tell the story. He sought meaningful conversation.

“Words matter,” Larson said. “The way you treat people matters. All of it matters.”

Larson simply focused on doing good for those in front of him. More times than not, they were race fans who craved just a minute of his time, let alone a bit of normalcy.

“I get at least one person a night who comes up and thanks me for making their summer or time enjoyable because they’ve said they lost their job because of COVID,” Larson said. “It makes me feel good inside, that I can bring enjoyment to somebody who may not be getting that enjoyment away from the race track during the week.”

Larson wasn’t all that conscious about how fans would treat him when he was inadvertently shipped back to his roots. What he might’ve not expected, however, is the role his supporters are playing in his own healing process.

For someone who wins at an absurd rate like Larson, all the trips to victory lane don’t seem to get old.

“It’s not that way with him,” Radesky said. “We cheered for him at the Tuscarora 50. That doesn’t happen. This is Lance Dewease’s track. People here are cheering for him.”

Jordan Small, a race fan in central Pennsylvania, was one of the many who greeted Larson after his 40th win of the season at Port Royal. There, Small gifted Larson a hand-drawn picture of Larson’s son, Owen, in his winged outlaw kart.

In return, Larson and car owner Paul Silva gave Small the left rear tire from their winning effort.

“It’s a way for me to connect with him, so if I run into him down the road, he can say, ‘Hey, I remember you,’” said Small, who started attending dirt races in 2020 because of Larson’s frequent appearances in Pennsylvania. “He’s got me for life as a fan.”

Three days after Larson lost his NASCAR ride, he and his family visited the Sweet family at their Grass Valley, Calif., home for a barbecue. Naturally, racing became a topic of discussion, and Larson shared his excitement for exclusively racing dirt this year.

“Kyle, have you not seen what’s going on?” Brad Sweet said, as Larson recalled. “We’ll be lucky to get in 20 races this year.”

Reality struck Larson, who not only wondered how he’d make money, but how he’d ever move forward and be happy again.

“It hit him in that moment,” Mike Larson, Kyle’s father, said. “You could see the look on his face.”

Now, 42 wins and six months worth of smiles later, Larson and his fans have found a way forward.

For Larson, he’s back in the NASCAR Cup Series in 2021, this time with Hendrick Motorsports. For the fans, forward has come in the form of smiles and memories formed, just like that brisk October night at Port Royal Speedway.

“Look at these smiles, it’s awesome,” Radesky said, pointing at the crowd around Larson. “I haven’t been into NASCAR, but I’m going to tune in regularly. I may even go to the races at Pocono.

“And when I’m sitting in the stands, I’ll point down and say, ‘Hey, I knew that guy.’”