Things started off badly. Four of us left from Preston Ave at 10 for the 6 mile trip to the race track. We covered the first 2 or 2 1/2 miles in only about 10 minutes. By 10:30 we were on a hill near Colthurst & Barracks. Between 10:30 and 11 we probably moved 200 feet. We stayed on that hill for probably about the next hour. By 11:30 we picked up some momentum and we finally got parked around 12:30.
It was a lovely 2 1/2 hour, 6 mile, 2.4 mile-per-hour drive. Many of our friends rode on a bus. They left at 11 and arrived at a crowd pleasing 2:30.
Maybe it’s a matter of my perception being off this year. Maybe trips have always taken this long. Or maybe someone, somewhere really fucked up. And if that someone exists, that someone deserves a public flogging.
Allegedly, the race track opened its gates an hour later than usual this year. That may explain why everyone’s trips took about an hour longer than what seems normal.
Aside from that, the racing and atmosphere were quite pleasant, for the most part. Apparently there was a problem with people randomly walking up our Jeep and stealing things from the back.
Quite pleasant until about 4 PM. At that point it became obvious that storms were on the way. Our car load loaded up quickly and hoofed it from the Green, through the Orange zone and to the car in the parking lot. Aside from the girls being hassled by the drunk-ass student with a shopping cart (???), we made pretty good time and stayed pretty dry.
After sitting for about 30 minutes in go-nowhere traffic watching soaked and miserable looking attendees, we planned and executed a brilliant parking lot exiting procedure.
All that said, I think I’m about done with Foxfield. As of right now, I’m not looking forward to next year and I don’t expect to be sad to miss it.
