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I got off work at 7AM today - pretty quiet night at work, and unfortunately not too productive due to a long slew of things. Anyway - get out of uniform, get some Burger King (#3 w/ OJ) for breakfast, and talk to Mom. She mentions that there's something going on later in the day that I would probably be interested - and she was right.
I go home and get 4 hours of sleep, waking up at 1PM and onto the road I go. I ask Dad to come with me and go for a drive.
"Where are we going?"
Some place south that you'll enjoy. Along the way we go "WOW" at the back up on I71, and Dad keeps asking where we're going. You'll like it, and you've been there before was all that he was told. He was slightly confused when we pulled off at Sparta, KY and started heading to the Speedway. I got him and Mom tickets years ago to a truck race there, but there was no traffic today, nor was there the sweet, sweet music of V8's screaming.
Inside we go to the gift shop as Dad verifies that the facility's indoor plumbing is properly functional, and buy a way-overpriced sweatshirt for $47 after tax, get a blue ticket, and wait for Dad in the lobby. We go back to the car, and he's getting pretty bummed at making this ride for no reason.
Until I pull into entrance #3 and we both sign a waiver at the guard shack.
I know it doesn't sound too exciting - considering their rules are to follow the pace vehicle, obey their speeds, and don't pass - and our pace vehicle was a F150 4x4 with a light rack, tow bar, and equipment to mount a fan to dry the track. Well....our pace vehicle was going over 110mph into the turns, dad was grabbing for a handhold (non-existent in my car for the passenger), and I was grinning like a school girl. 4.5 miles and my car had sucked over 1/8th of a tank of fuel, all while spinning a 4.6L V8 at over 4.5K RPM's with the air conditioning pumping and keeping us cool.
My father, who poo-pooed a V8 mustang previously as being unneeded, was quickly won over at how well it rode at over 110mph, and how it drove on the highway - let alone how well it's built for a 9 year old vehicle at 75K on the clock. He is now considering getting newer one than mine, with 55-150 more horsepower than my car (260 horses - plenty for me).
The surprise for him wasn't over though. As I was putting my driver's license back into my wallet, I asked Dad to open to glove box. In there was a sheet of paper, with an invoice code on it to the Nascar Driving Experiance, where he's going to learn how to drive a Nascar and will be put behind the wheel, flying over 160mph. He was floored - especially when I explained to him that he'll be company with just 600 of his closest friends, no instructors in the passenger seat. I couldn't think of a better way to deliver him his father's day / birthday present than to get him on the track, and let him know right about it while his blood is still pumping from the 3 laps on the track.
Awesome day - and there's still 5 hours left in it
I go home and get 4 hours of sleep, waking up at 1PM and onto the road I go. I ask Dad to come with me and go for a drive.
"Where are we going?"
Some place south that you'll enjoy. Along the way we go "WOW" at the back up on I71, and Dad keeps asking where we're going. You'll like it, and you've been there before was all that he was told. He was slightly confused when we pulled off at Sparta, KY and started heading to the Speedway. I got him and Mom tickets years ago to a truck race there, but there was no traffic today, nor was there the sweet, sweet music of V8's screaming.
Inside we go to the gift shop as Dad verifies that the facility's indoor plumbing is properly functional, and buy a way-overpriced sweatshirt for $47 after tax, get a blue ticket, and wait for Dad in the lobby. We go back to the car, and he's getting pretty bummed at making this ride for no reason.
Until I pull into entrance #3 and we both sign a waiver at the guard shack.
I know it doesn't sound too exciting - considering their rules are to follow the pace vehicle, obey their speeds, and don't pass - and our pace vehicle was a F150 4x4 with a light rack, tow bar, and equipment to mount a fan to dry the track. Well....our pace vehicle was going over 110mph into the turns, dad was grabbing for a handhold (non-existent in my car for the passenger), and I was grinning like a school girl. 4.5 miles and my car had sucked over 1/8th of a tank of fuel, all while spinning a 4.6L V8 at over 4.5K RPM's with the air conditioning pumping and keeping us cool.
My father, who poo-pooed a V8 mustang previously as being unneeded, was quickly won over at how well it rode at over 110mph, and how it drove on the highway - let alone how well it's built for a 9 year old vehicle at 75K on the clock. He is now considering getting newer one than mine, with 55-150 more horsepower than my car (260 horses - plenty for me).
The surprise for him wasn't over though. As I was putting my driver's license back into my wallet, I asked Dad to open to glove box. In there was a sheet of paper, with an invoice code on it to the Nascar Driving Experiance, where he's going to learn how to drive a Nascar and will be put behind the wheel, flying over 160mph. He was floored - especially when I explained to him that he'll be company with just 600 of his closest friends, no instructors in the passenger seat. I couldn't think of a better way to deliver him his father's day / birthday present than to get him on the track, and let him know right about it while his blood is still pumping from the 3 laps on the track.
Awesome day - and there's still 5 hours left in it
The speedlimit in the States was 55 then. I slowed down to about 110 when I returned to the States in '86, driving from D.C. to California and back... one ticket in Nevada on the way and none coming back... Passport Radar Detector, and now Valentine Ones since '93. I like getting where I'm going as fast... and safely... as possible.
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