It is Friday night at Charlotte Motor Speedway and Danica Patrick is making her way to the starting grid the way she always does, with punctuated speed. All athletes who reach the top level of their sport learn quickly that they must stay in perpetual motion. The more famous, the more speed they must carry. Smile, speak, sign autographs, but do it all on the move, lest you never arrive at your destination.

Patrick is seemingly always surrounded. On days like this, the impact she's had at big tracks is obvious. The less visible -- but perhaps more important -- effect of Patrick's popularity can be seen at smaller tracks and in youth racing. Girls and young women have a bigger presence than ever at the grassroots level, with much of that attributed to Patrick's popularity.

The crowd is particularly large on this night, despite its being merely a race-in event for the next night's NASCAR All-Star Race. Tonight, though, there is a buzz around Patrick. She is just six days removed from a seventh-place run at Kansas Speedway, the best finish of her two-year Sprint Cup career. Still, she can't help but pause, as she almost always does, when she hears one particular sound: the voices of little girls.

There are two, both around 9 years old and dressed in matching pink GoDaddy.com T-shirts. "Danica! Danica!"

She can't stop. There's no time. But she does slow down to turn and wave. "Hey, girls!" she shouted. "Nice shirts!" The girls squeal, they high-five and Patrick disappears toward pit road.

When Carl Edwards' daughter turned 3, she said what she wanted was to meet Danica Patrick. Same for Jimmie Johnson's daughter. When Jeff Gordon qualified on the outside front row for the 2013 Daytona 500, Patrick was the pole-sitter. As they accepted congratulations in Victory Lane, Gordon's daughter Ella, then 5 years old, tugged on her father's fire suit and asked if she could have her picture taken -- with Danica.

What began as a bit of an annoyance for Patrick as a 20-something Indy 500 sensation has become an enjoyment during this second career stanza as a 32-year-old full-time stock car racer.

"I'm getting a little bit older now and recognizing what an honor it is to be in that position, to be looked up to," she had explained earlier that same day. "It's a responsibility to have them cheer for me, or even more, if they want to grow up to be like me."

Kenzie Ruston, who competes in NASCAR's K&N Pro East, is one of the few graduates of NASCAR's Drive For Diversity program who has a regular ride. Justin Edmonds/NASCAR/Getty Images

It's not just Danica, either. Similar scenes and stories unfold wherever women are racing at the highest levels. On Sunday afternoon, Pippa Mann qualified for her third Indianapolis 500, chased throughout the Indianapolis Motor Speedway by girls with die-cast versions of her pink Susan G. Komen Foundation Dallara. Nearly 600 miles to the south, at the Atlanta Dragway, Alexis DeJoria raced as the top qualifier in the NHRA's Top Fuel division while Erica Enders-Stevens did the same in Pro Stock. Their autograph lines were beaten only by those of the Force sisters, Courtney and Brittany.

There is no doubt that the army of little girls that surround each of them want to be like their racing heroes. But is it happening? Are they working toward that goal? More important, are they being given the opportunities to do so? What exactly has been the effect of Danica and her kindred racing spirits on the present and future of women behind the wheel?

"I don't think there's any question about it," a South Carolina short track owner/operator said via telephone this week. "I can't give you hard numbers, but I know what I see. The eyeball test and the entry lists for our weekend shows proves it."

That's a common refrain among those throughout the racing community. Multiple sales outlets of entry-level karts, quarter midgets and Legends/Bandalero machines all claim that more families are shopping for racing equipment for their daughters, but none is willing to produce sales data.

The NASCAR licensing process doesn't require that the applicant self-identify gender or race, so there isn't the data to track a marked increase in female participation. However, the sanctioning body also cites anecdotal evidence, pointing toward an increase in applications to its Drive For Diversity program (D4D), and a shift in the quality of applications. They aren't just hoping to be a race car driver, they have already been doing it. NASCAR also points to D4D graduates who are currently racing in NASCAR Touring and Regional Series, including Kenzie Ruston and MacKena Bell, both of whom race in NASCAR's K&N Pro East (think Double-A baseball), and Annabeth Barnes, who runs one rung lower, but on some of the sport's classic old Carolina tracks in the Whelen All-American Late Model Series.

"I've been doing this a long time and I've never seen women and girls like I've seen now," NASCAR Nationwide Series champion-turned-short track safety advocate Randy LaJoie said earlier this year. As part of his Safer Racer program, he visits dozens of lower-level tracks and divisions throughout the year. "And we get calls from parents wanting to purchase our Joie of Seating youth racing seats that are asking questions about not just their sons, but their daughters, too."