Aug 07 2007
A Day at the Races
The plan was that we would get on the road by 8:30 a.m - we live 34.3 miles away (seriously, there’s a sign at the end of our road that says “Michigan International Speedway - 33 miles”. Add the mile and a bit to get to the sign? 34.3 miles.) With traffic, we should be able to be there within an hour, park and take the tram to the track and be in the pits by 10 a.m. That gives us an hour to roam around and ogle the cars (Mr. Hot and Shortman) and drivers (me) before the pits closed at 11 and the race started at Noon.
Well, that was the freakin’ plan.
Mr. Hot was nice enough to let us sleep in because, you know, of the rain. The pouring rain that comes the one day we actually have expensive tickets to something that can’t happen in. the. rain. So, we slept in, got up, had breakfast - and wandered around the house for a while. Mr. Hot sat glued in front of the Weather Channel watching the radar to see if maybe, just maybe, there would be a break in the sheets, (sheets!) of rain that were drenching us.
Suddenly, there was a “Hot! Come here.” With dread (because I knew I was going to have to ‘give my opinion on the weather’), I stood next to him in front of the television.
“So, look at the end of the rain there. No, wait, let me back it up (the wonders of DVR), there, see there?”
“Yes, Mr. Hot, I see. Looks like the end of the rain for a while.”
“When do you think we should leave? It looks like it’s going to go right over the track.”
“Um, I don’t know.” (Don’t commit too quickly, then you’re solely to blame if, you know, it decides to keep raining).
“No, really, what do you think? Should we start packing up to go?”
“Shortman is still in bed.”
“What time do you think?”
–now, I’m wondering how I get out of actually making a decision here–
“Um, about an hour?”
“Yea, that’s what I was thinking - between 11 and 11:30 - so 11:15 it is.”
For the next hour, we woke up Shortman, packed lunches, got rain gear, and drove (in the rain) to the track. By the time we got there and got parked, the rain had stopped. We stopped by our seats, admired the view, and then walked over to the Pits, knowing that the cars were still under tarp and the drivers were most likely napping (like I should have been) in their mobile homes.
They were.
And then the rain started again. The skies opened up, and the rain jacket I was wearing was no match at all for the sheer volume of water that was pouring down on me. So, we pondered our next move.
And decided to take the tram back to the truck and eat some lunch. And then we drove home the 34.3 miles to change and watch the Weather Channel some more.
Forty-five minutes later (including the drive), while we were still drying off, Mr. Hot is glued to the radar. He yells, “Hurry up and finish changing, we’re going to leave in 10 minutes. It’s clearing up.”
Well, this time, it did clear up, and we got to watch the race. It started with 20 cars, but by the end, there were only 7 in the chase. Two single car wrecks, 4 broken cars, two more in a single wreck that happened right in front of us (which we missed) and 5 in the biggest crash - it took out the first five cars. There were, I think, about 8 cautions, and the race that was supposed to start at noon, didn’t start until 5, ended at 8 pm.
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Can you guys buy tickets to an outdoor event near me in North Carolina? We really need a lot of rain, and we’d be most grateful. The Pro wants to keep his grass green, you see.
I feel for the Pro, I really do. Here, Mr. Hot is praying that no more rain comes by, because since that storm on Sunday, the grass has grown about 3 inches. And we have an acre, and no riding mower [hee hee hee]
We had gone pretty much all of July without rain, too. Now, it’s raining again as I write this, so it’s probably on the way to NC.