Speedway events across the country are seeing a rise in women drivers

The 27-year-old has been raising the dust on some of Australia's biggest speedways since she was 14. For the past five years, she's hit the big leagues.

"I was about seven when I first went to the speedway. My stepdad was into it, and my sister got it into it," Ms O'Hehir said.

"I remember heaps of dirt flicking at me. I loved it. I used to really look up to the drivers."

"When you haven't got a helmet on, you're talking to everyone but then the helmet comes on and you're focusing completely on the drive.

Over the years, Ms O'Hehir has grown accustomed to being the only woman behind the wheel.

"It's intimidating, but the guys don't see me as any different to any racer," she said.

"Once the helmet goes on, no-one takes any notice that I'm a woman. Out there, I'm one of the guys."

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It's a feeling Barbralea Smith has become acquainted with as well. Though the 53-year-old racer is relatively new to the sport.

"I've always wanted to race but I wasn't allowed to go to the speedway when I was a kid," Ms Smith said.

"Mum didn't want me to go to the speedway. She wanted me to be a dancer. I wanted matchbox cars, I got barbies. I wanted jeans, I got dresses. I just wanted to have fun."

At the age of 25 in 1994, she finally had the chance to drive. But, she recalls, a horror accident "finished my career before it'd started".

"I didn't even complete one lap [before] I was thrown from the car and then thrown back in," she said.

"I had massive bruises on my rear end and my ego, and a bit of pain in my ankle. My ego was damaged even more when my husband took the engine out of my car and won his race with it."

Following the accident, in 2016, Ms Smith returned to the track with her husband and 19-year-old son Andrew. But the experience had left her overly cautious.

"My first drive was at Illabo (in NSW's South West Slopes). It was the first of the day and I was as slow as buggery," Ms Smith said.

"Then someone told me, 'you get in the car, you put your foot down, you keep your foot down until you're scared and then you put your foot down even further. Then you're driving.' So that's what I did. There's nothing like that adrenaline rush.

"I feel like I'm alive behind the wheel. You're a different person when you're on the track," Ms Smith said.

Living near Lithgow, in NSW's Central Tablelands, Ms Smith's nearest track is at Cullen Bullen, where she's noticed, there are not too many faces that look like hers.

"I'm the only woman driver in our club. We need more," she said.

"It's predominately a male sport, but women can do it. If they can run the country, they can drive a race car."

Just like Ms O'Hehir, when Ms Smith is on the track, she's usually one of the only women out there.

"The guys like me on the track because they think they're going faster because they're passing me," she jokes.

"The more I hear there's a woman on the track, the more I get excited."

Among the younger racers, the gender gap is closing.

"When we look at our juniors - so that's aged between six and 16 - there's actually 28 per cent that is female," said Adam Brook, sport development officer with Speedway Australia.

Across the senior events, female competitors now make up 13 per cent.

"We don't segregate, we're all in. We have the girls up against the boys, and in most cases, beating the boys," Mr Brook said.

"It's a unique sport in that sense. We have people with physical disabilities and low-range mental disabilities, they're all racing together."

The inclusivity of the sport, Mr Brook concludes safeguards it from the sort of "tribalism" that often exists in other competitions.

"The rivalry doesn't come off the track," he said. "Everyone is there to have fun."

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The national body issues licences for a thousand events a year across 97 venues in every state and territory.

Two tracks that Mr Brook described as "bucket list" drives are located in the NSW Riverina.

While Illabo's speedway has carved a niche and set the national standard for vintage events, Leeton's track is among the nation's favourites, he said.

"It's encouraging the number [of drivers] are going up as the racers get older," Mr Brook said.

Describing the sport as going through its "purple patch" at the moment, Mr Brook said there has been a huge influx in funding and interest in speedway events.

"An average event in NSW would have upwards of a hundred competitors turning up," Mr Brook said.

A big part of its longevity, he believes, is that intangible feeling of collegiality among its competitors and champions.

"Everyone in this sport is a lifer," he said.

"Whether you're a competitor or official or just a spectator, you're here for life. No-one seems to be able to leave the sport, and it's because of the family feeling.

"We all feel like we know each other."

President of the Australian Vintage and Classic Speedway body, Leigh Drennan has been a part of the speedway family for 50 years.

Now travelling the country as a sprint car demonstration driver, Mr Drennan describes the feeling behind the wheel as being "the most exhilarating thing outside an airforce jet".

"The thrill of the g-force when you're going 150km/hr, it's massive," he said.

Having started in motocross, at the age of 17, he turned to the speedway. The instant acceptance and belonging he felt in the sport has kept him coming back.

"It's the camaraderie on the track, you drive against each other then off the track you're social with each other," the 71-year-old said.

"Some of these people, we've grown up together and now we're bringing our families and getting the next generation into it.

"When you haven't got a helmet on, you're talking to everyone but then the helmet comes on and you're focusing completely on the drive.

"It doesn't matter who you are - rich or poor, male or female - in this sport, it's all about the driving ability."