I am no longer a race virgin. Tonight I went with my friend to watch her husband race. I had a blast! It was loud. I loved it! He races a 600 which, for someone who has no concept of motors (like me) doesn't mean anything. The only thing I do know is that they go pretty fast. I really enjoyed that each heat went quickly which was great for me since I have the attention span of a gnat.
Aside from the race cars and the actual race, I may have enjoyed the people more. The track is located in a part of New Jersey that isn't known for being high class -- if you catch my drift. Between tight jeans, tight shirts, over bleached hair and women that looked like men, I was quite entertained.
The evening did not end with a win for my friend's husband. He started off 10th and soon moved into 8th place. He was gaining quickly on the lead car. I was enthralled. The engines were roaring and kicking up dust. The mosquitos had finally decided that we were not good eating and were leaving us alone. All was good. UNTIL....................we see him slowing down and pulling off to the side...right in front of where we were sitting. The yellow flag waved. The other drivers slowed down. The quads came flying out on to the track and the next thing you know, he's being towed off. It looked like the rear axle broke. The wheel was dangling -- never a good sign. It was the first race he didn't finish.
I'm going back. Hopefully next time he'll finish and finish in 1st place.