Friday:

We're on the road *early*! So, our first stop, that officially starts any race weekend, is at the Newport McDonald's for breakfast. While picking up the food, we see lots of lightning, far away.  Which brings us to the next official event of all race weekends.  Rain.  We run into it about 10 miles south of Newport, and it soon becomes a torrent. Brent is trying to track the semi ahead of us, but his taillights keep disappearing...However, after about ten minutes, the rain stops, the sky clears, and we are in sunshine the rest of the way.  Before we reach Concord we stop at a rest area. Coming out of the building, we hear someone yell "Hey, Brent!" It's his friend Nancy &  her family, who've stopped for a quick picnic before heading into the track. After intros and small talk, I get right to the point: "Have you talked to Andy lately?" (She and her husband are close friends with Andy Santerre & his wife).  They had spoken with him earlier in the week. He's worn out, and frustrated with his season so far. The engine program isn't as strong as he'd like; he can't seem to get the setups he wants (not being used to delelgating that task - until he entered Busch, he did his own); and he's *really* struggling to get used to running on radials.  It's frustrating for all of us, too, that have watched him race up here over the years. We know Andy has the talent, and the dedication,

and the desire. He just needs some time, and some breaks.  We hit the track, and settle into row 31 in the main grandstand. (We have to work up to the 45 row climb on Sunday). The mods start qualifying at 1 - whih agrees with *none* of the schedules I have... Anyway, there's not much variance in lap times, and Tom Bolles sets the pole speed.  Next comes WC practice, and I start clocking times for the hell of it...around 2:40, clouds start rolling in..uh-huh.  Practice ends at 3...followed by about an hour of totally empty track and screwing around. First they line un the Busch North cars along the back of pit road, nose to tail, like they're going to practice. After they have about half the field like this, they decide  to start lining them up on the front of pit road, diagonally... Time is being wasted...  And clouds are forming.  By 4, the BGNN cars are lined up, and they're getting the Cup cars lined up.  4:05 I feel a raindrop. I shove all the electronics in the new, improved, this sucker better be more waterproof than the last one, backpack, pull out the poncho, and wait.  4:06 Brent returns with the food he waited in line for...  4:07 The sky opens up.  Yes, folks, we *have* seen this movie before. For five minutes the rain pours down in exponentially increasing intensity. Then stops.  The track is now soaked. By 4:20, every track vehicle - pace car, tow trucks, flatbeds, jet dryers, sweepers, ambulances - is out doing laps. At 5:17, we're ready to go.  The first dozen or so cars are slipping badly in turns 1 and 4. Most drivers have a c'est la vie attitude, but Geoff Bodine - out second, after asking his cc to walk out and inspect the track - is bitching. "It's those jet dryers, they throw down a lot of oil." Mark Martin calls his 30.311 a "slick bitch lap". Ken Schrader's car drops weights in turn two, and his 30.205 is thrown out. With 9 cars to go, there's a quick shower.

A quick pass by the dryers gets it ready to go, but TL waits for his cc to take a lap with Buster (in the pace car) before going out. Then it showers again. More drying time. Bill is next in line. Mike Beam suddenly starts yelling for someone to hustle a recirculator out to pit road... by the time they get halfway, the track is declared ready. Bill wants to take a ride with Buster. Off they go, stopping frequently so Bill can get out & look closer. Meanwhile, his crew is hooking up the car. Is Bill stalling?...The pace car comes around...and they take another lap ;-)
When they get back, Jeff Burton wants a ride...and off *they* go...  Finally, everyone's happy, and qualifying resumes.  I had the stopwatch going for Craven's lap. From the other times, I figured I was off about .1 from the official time...So, when I hit the stop, and looked down, I knew...I screamed, and stared at Brent in awe. He was shaking his head - and then they announced that Craven had the pole.  The. Place. Went. Nuts.  And, BTW, the track estimate for attendance was 25-30,000 - "about what we'd have for a big bike weekend". Not bad for Friday afternoon.

Saturday:
 Cloudy, windy, breezy. We get parked, as always, in the middle lot, near the birch tree, and trudge off to do some souvenir shopping before racing begins. After returning our loot to the car, we go back to the track - me being grateful for having stepped up my workouts in the weeks prior. All hiking with a heavy backpack is hard work! We settle in as far left in the main grandstand as possible, 38 rows up.  The mods race was, as usual, awesome. Mike Stefanik has really nailed this series - I was very impressed with his driving, and his car.  The BGNN race also had a lot of action. (Pardon me for saying what others have already said, but Saturday's racing is much better than Sunday's). We had the scanner on, listening to the TNN feed. During one of their breaks, while Brent was off getting food, (Hey, wait a minute.. I see a pattern here), I heard this: "Chopper pilot just reported there's rain coming right for us, about 15 minutes away. A *lot* of rain."  <sigh>  I pull out the ponchos and the trash bag, and get ready to chuck the electronics when it hits. Brent gets back & I fill him in. We've put the headsets back on, looking frequently over our left shoulders at the coming stporm, making hand signals to each other, arranging raingear... after about ten minutes of this, the guy behind us taps me on the shoulder. "Uh, is something going on?" I give him the report. Now, we're *all* checking the sky ;-) But this cloud passes off to the North, and the race continues.  It's the next cloud that gets us.  Since the race ran late - and happy hour was also delayed - we headed out so we could go back to the hotel before meeting up with some of the rasners at 6:30 for dinner.  As we approached the restaurant, we saw a black GMC Suburban headed towards us do a U-Turn around the pylons...We laughed about another drunken race fan being lost...then we closed up behind it as we both entered the parking lot...and I saw the Ontario plates...I looked at Brent..."you don't suppose...?"  Yup. It's John May, and son Derek. After lots of hugs & kisses, we head inside. "Reservations for Greenleaf?" I ask.  "Uh, no, nothing in that name. What time? How many?"  I tell her, 6:30, for 12.  She looks. "I've got a 12 at 8:30 for Stub Fadden. Is that your party?" I crack up, and ask John if he wants to wait & join Stubby. The hostess quickly sees her mistake, and just as quickly hustles us outside to the deck.  Like the place we went to the night before, this deck is covered with Miller Lite stuff. And, there's a half-car set up next tot he volleyball for the Over-the-Wall pit crew challenge. We pass on that, in favor of food, drink, and the charming musical entertainment. (John particularly enjoyed the Loggins & Messina number...) After a bit, one of the crowd of Miller corporate guys started handing out raffle tickets, for your choice of a Rusty hat or T. Woo. After a couple of no-repsonses, he finally pulled out a winner...one of the other Miller guys...He was shamed into giving his prize away (I quite subtly pointed towards Derek). And just to p*ss off the old man, Derek wore the shirt the rest of the night. Since the ticket drawing wasn't working, the Miller guy started a trivia contest. I was on my feet at the second question, "Name 5 WC tracks". Duh. John was coming back from the restroom, and only heard part of the question..."What was that, name all the tracks Rusty hasn't won at?" That led to, "Name all the tracks Rusty has wrecked at", and, "Name all the tracks Rusty's gotten p*ssed and grenaded the engine", followed by, "Name all the tracks Rusty's gotten p*ssed off at", etc...  Even though we were the only four to show, we had a ball. (Thanks, John.)
 

Sunday:
 Began with a *major* tactical error. For the first time, we were staying in Concord, about 15 miles from the track. Last year, when we stayed an hour away, we were on the road at 5:45, and parked in the lot at NHIS at 7:15...well, hell, we don't need to leave *that* early... even though we can clearly see the traffic on 93 from our hotel room window, and can see it crawling by 6:15...  So, we're off at 7:15, a little bogged down on 395, but at the track entrance before 8...and parked near the Vermont border at 9. Traffic this year is un-be-lievable. Because of beign so far gone, we just pack everything for the day - instead of the usual trip back from the reunion - and head out.  Already at the reunion spot at 9:30 is Rich "Bam-bam" Bemben, sittin' all alone at the top of the bleachers. I zip up to him, and see a very sad face...His buddy Mark bailed on him the night before, so he'd made the trip all alone...coming on the heels of my bailing on the NC trip probably didn't help...but after some hugs & kisses, and the sight of a Ken (Slater) on the horizon, he was ready to make a day of it.  We were soon joined by Alan "Free Stuff" Claffie, Karen "Cookie" Jensen, "Shut Up" Ken Piel and son Greg, Liz Burke & Dave Haverly (who sat in line for 3 1/2 hours Thursday night trying to get their camper parked...yikes!), and they kept coming! Our biggest reunion yet! Last to show was John May - who, like a good gunfighter, whips out a barrage of Molson Missiles of Death. But wait! Bam-bam counters with his Labatts Large Cans of Chaos! (Having already subdued me with shots of Jack Daniels, Rich won this duel). Anyway, we had a great, great time, and finally folded up the banner at 11:45. It was great to see everyone, and meet some new folks.

 Race highlights:  None of us were really surprised at Ricky's early fade. For all his experience at this track, they never seem to get the setup right for the Cup race.  JB showed his muscle early, and it seemed likely to be doen to him, JG, or MM.  Mike Skinner was certainly the biggest surprise of the day. By far, the best race I've seen Mike run.  Hot. Hot hot hot hot. It's never bothered me this much before - and we had hand fans, spray bottles, quarts of water...At 3:00, I knew, I just knew, I had to get out of the sun. So, I wandered down under the stands, grabbed a slice of pizza and a huge iced tea, and watched the action from there for half an hour.  Scanner bites:  #7 (after his early wreck):"Who the f*ck hit me??!!!"  #31CC:" "Keep digging, Mike. You gotta work hard to be the top guy." (Larry was on more as the race wound down - my guess that the heat & concentration were wearing on MS, who still does not appear to be at 100% physically.)  #99CC: "How's the cool box working?" JB: "No comment." CC:"Well, they say they should have it figured out by Indy." JB: "They'd better!"  When I saw the #23 come flying down pit road, I flipped over to his frequency: (JS)"Water! Water! Water!" I'm thinking, jeez, Jimmy must be *really* thirsty ;-) It wasn't till later that MRN reported the tach fire.  #99CC (during a late caution, with JB in the lead, approaching one of the sweepers that's in the center of the track): "Ok, go high around the sweeper." JB: (incredulously) "Go *high*???" CC: "Right, go high."...The pace car goes high, JB goes low, followed by the rest of the field. CC:"Well, Buster's bitchin', but you're ok, everyone followed you." JB:" You can't *go* high there - whether it's marbles, or  the track's comin' up, I dunno, but you can't go up there."

 Alan Bestwick (MRN, during a break): "Do you have a gelatinous tongue?"  2nd voice:"Huh?"  AB:"Do you have a gelatinous tongue?"  2nd voice: <pause> "No, but I can get you someone that does."  Voice of Authority:"Ok, boys, take it easy."

 After the race, the entertainment was the Joey Chitwood Auto Thrill Show...unfortunately, after watching 40+ cars go 130+ mph for 3+ hours, dodging and weaving and sliding and wrecking...well, watching a Bronco doing a 180 at 60mph doesn't have much of a thrill.  So we made the long trek back, tracked down Bam-Bam Bemben, pulled up the chairs next to the grill and waited out the traffic.  Not.  At 8:00 we figured, what the hey, and headed north on 106 - since they were turning *all* traffic that way - an accident on the southbound, perhaps - and by 9:30 were back at the hotel. Whetherit was from the increased attendance, or the new parking plan that backfired, I don't know: but the traffic situation this year was the worst we'd encountered. And, as we discovered in Monday's Concord paper, one of the short cuts may get bypassed, as the next town has filed an injunction against the track to halt expansion until traffic problems are adequately addressed. (They are also requesting more police presence on Shaker Road to divert race traffic).

 Hey, we still had a blast. If I could go to these races all the time, I'd do it.

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