Hubby and I finalized our walk around the t-shirt haulers and the track, happily listening to the Busch boys practice this morning. Then we turned towards the stands. We looked at eachother and took a deep breath...
"There's nothing like the smell of burnt rubber in the morning..."
We laughed and started walking towards 'our' Friday seats in the apex of Turn 1 and Turn 2, halfway up where the mezzanine restrooms are easy to get to. Saturday during Happy Hour we usually set up shop at the entrance to the garage area and then move back down to Turn 1 for the races. Sunday we have fought our way up to row 48 near the start/finish line. We're almost under the overhang...that'll probably take a couple more years to achieve.
If any of you are wondering, this is the life of a true racing addict.
We are adorned with headsets, scanners, binoculars, ticket holders, cameras, program, t-shirts, hats and the very latest diecast. (I haven't had a chance to take the Jeff Gordon CoT out of its box yet and the Montoya 1st Cup Win T-shirt won't arrive until tomorrow,) We spit stats and memories in a manner that makes most of the other spectators sputter.
It's bad...very bad
I'll be thinking long and hard about my Tuesday article...afterall, I won't have the benefit of in-car cameras this weekend. Only my own two eyes. And I'll probably be writing Sunday night amidst the post-race revelry. I will try very hard to be coherent...but I really can't promise much.
Thank you to everybody who is still checking in here and over at the Frontstretch. This is an awesome year! At least for the Cup garage. I still don't have much nice to say about the Busch series
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