Part 3: World of Outlaws @ Eldora Speedway, Saturday

Part 1 and Part 2 make this more interesting, but aren't necessary to understand it. 

I left Part 2 with Dano's poor beleaguered car covered in mud after getting towed out of the back forty at Eldora.  Luckily, we are sprint car people.  Sprint car people know how to find a car wash.  Thus, we began Saturday morning of the big racing weekend appropriately, in a Greenville car wash, erasing the memories of the previous evening one quarter at a time.

The manager of the Greenville Holiday Inn Express learned a lot about sprint car racing that morning too.  While I was turning in keys, the manager and cleaning staff were having a little pow wow trying to figure out how the entire front entrance got covered in muddy footprints.  I tiptoed out quietly in my own mud-crusted boots.  Take heed, hotels near dirt tracks.  Rainouts happen.

We got to the track and located my parents, had lunch from Dad's grill, and watched Idiocracy because the satellite was getting manhandled by the wind and I'd brought the DVD.  (Isn't "camping" rough?)

Then I nagged and begged and pleaded until we set out on the next adventure.

Rattling around the back of my head for approximately a decade was the issue of Earl's 1-mile track.  The Eldora Speedway that we all know and love is a 1/2 mile (and a liberally measured half, according to many).  But out in the sticks, not far from the half, I'd always heard rumors that Earl had started building a full mile, banked like its little brother.  He never finished it, no laps were ever turned.

When I first heard about it, I decried the possibility.  "It would be too fast!"  Everyone I talked to about it echoed that sentiment, eyes wide, mouths agape when I told them what I knew about it.  And maybe that's why it never came to exist in anything close to a finished state, maybe that's why I never sat there as a child and watched a winged sprint car push off towards what would have been the most terrifying laps I'd ever witnessed.  Too fast.  Way too fast.

I thought about it on and off for years, my stomach tightening every time.  How badass is it that the mere idea of such a track existing takes people's breath away?

Wags found the mile on a 14 year-old satellite image.  TJ confirmed with some easy driving directions, but warned that it was pretty overgrown. 

And here we are.

I can only assume that the mile would have been the same orientation as the half, so this photo would be from standing at the top of the apex of turn one, looking towards turn two.  The banking is very evident, the outline of the track easy to pick out from the ground, maybe not so easy to see in these pictures, but I tried.

We were all pretty silent.  The clouds drifting over us created these wild fast-moving patches of sun that followed the outlines of the first and second turns.  My heart jumped into my throat as I watched the ghost race.

We headed back to the half mile in time to participate in my first publicly open pit visit prior to the racing.  I am an old pro at visiting the pit area after the races, collecting autographs and photos and hanging out.  I don't know when they started opening up the pits from 3:30 to 5:00 before the races, but I really love it.  The drivers seemed more comfortable, everyone seems less rushed, people certainly smell better.  It was very nice.

This car is driven by Jason Meyers, one of my favorite World of Outlaws drivers.  This is Jason, hanging with the fans and signing autographs.  He signed the sleeve of my sweatshirt for me (and yes, by "my sweatshirt", I mean the one that I stole from somebody else, because that's what I do, and I'm okay with that).

Mom and Dano and I walked around quite a bit, showing Dano the various unique features of Eldora Speedway.  Dad caught up with Danny Schatz, setting up my favorite photo of the entire weekend:

When these two get together and start bench racing in their NoDak accents?  Indeed, the greatest show on dirt.

And here's the water truck.

What a difference a day makes, huh?  That's dirt track racing for you. 

We went back to the bus for a little bit, where Dad took a nap and Mom kicked our asses at Sequence like 12 times in a row.  When we went back to the track, we sat low in Section I this time.  Here's a video of a heat race's first pass through turns one and two:

It was a great night of racing, in my opinion, and not just because Donny Schatz (my favorite) won and Sammy Swindell (Dano's favorite) finished second.  I thought that the track was in decent shape, definitely much better than I expected.  It was also a nice safe night - no rollovers, maybe one or two spins, if that.  Always something I'm happy to see.

Dano and I had been debating all weekend whether we were going to bunk in the bus on Saturday night or head back to Indy.  When the World of Outlaws A main wrapped up way earlier than we expected, we made the call to skip the modified feature and get on the road.  Our goal was to meet a friend at a bar, but the only thing we could remember about the bar's name was that it was (Adjective) Beaver.  We mused all weekend long about it, the angry, hungry, hot, violent, reluctant, crazy, sad, or potentially smelly possibilities, totally unable to remember the proper adjective.  A text message confirmed that it was actually "Wild" and we headed out for Indy with directions.

On the two hour trip back to Indianapolis, my Blackberry was lit up constantly with messages, and I had what I can only describe as a "moment".  The moon was full and orange and floating just over the horizon, Dano opened the sun roof, the radio was blasting "Spirit in the Sky" and as we traveled down I70, I was texting with three different people in Indianapolis, two of them that I'd never met before, trying to work out the details to meet up the next day.  Then I got messages from both my blogging/racing friend Amy and Marc, who had just randomly met each other at a bar in Lansing, MI.  And I fell back onto the phrase that everyone got sick of hearing this weekend . . . I love my life.  There was just something so sweet and surreal about it all, how the stars were lining up and all of these people that the internet brought into my life were now becoming real to me, becoming parts of each other's lives through me, and it made me get that feeling *right here*, you know?  My life is occasionally weird, but it is beautiful, and I love you guys.  I love when I update my status with a city name and I get those "Are you here?  Let's meet up!" messages.  When I win the lottery, I'm going to spend the rest of my life driving from city to city to city, meeting all of you.

We drove into downtown Indianapolis, parked, and found the Wild Beaver, where we had a beer and watched a bunch of suits make fools of themselves and watched hockey and results from Indy 500 qualifying on the televisions.  Dano said "Let's go to the track tomorrow instead of going home early."  I responded "Okay."  And it was settled.  Another race track, another adventure, added to the agenda.

This was really my first trip to downtown Indianapolis.  I've spent a lot of time in Indy, but always in the vicinity of the Speedway or the race track at the Fairgrounds.  Or the furnace factory.  So we left the Beav and walked around, somewhat drunk.  I can't remember our conversation word for word, but I think this is pretty close:

Dano:  This is where we used to go when we were here for PRI.  I wish PRI was still in Indy.  I hate Orlando.

Me:  Wait, which direction did we go?  Did we walk down this block already?

Dano:  We're right here.  Where I used to go for PRI.  Orlando sucks.

Me:  I need to get pictures of that fountain. 

Dano:  The whole state of Florida sucks.  God.  There's nothing to do in Orlando.  I miss Indy.  PRI should be in Indy.  Look at this place!  This is where PRI belongs.

Me:  So, I'm going to go over here and take pictures of this statue.

Dano:  Why bother.  There's no reason to go on with life.  I hate Orlando.

Yep, that's pretty close to word for word, as I remember.  Then we decided we wanted french fries, and we went to the Steak & Shake, which was filled with kids who appeared to be on their prom night, including a couple dressed like the Phantom of the Opera guy and what I would have guessed was Marie Antoinette, but I could be wrong.  It was cute.  And the fries hit the spot.

Then it was back to Mindy's house to rest up for the trip to Indianapolis Motor Speedway for the 2nd day of qualifying, where we met up with a dear girl who reads this site, drank some beer, and took 285 photos from seats that are so good they aren't even real seats.

More later, my friends.