Close Encounter
One time while filming those fabulous jaunty jalopies of Vallejo Dirt fame, I had a close encounter of the third kind. Third, because it had happened before, twice. One would think one would learn not only from the first experience, but for sure from the second. But no, it took three times to learn I must be living a charmed life, as after surviving this close encounter, I continued to film from what I thought was the safest vantage point on the infield. At least I thought it was the safest because I had survived every close call so far. Makes sense. But then anything senseless could make sense to a ignorant teen living in the present with no concern for the future. And I definitely had no vision for the future, but I must have had eyes in the back of my head or a special sense that would tell me that danger was approaching. Actually I do remember this third time, my buddy yelled out to me, "behind you!" and I felt the air pressure on my back increase as I turned around to see that I was about to meet first hand a cow catcher, or in this case, a photographer catcher, which is supposed to protect the radiator in those mud pounding hardtops, which was about to become a person pounder. Somehow I managed to dive out of its path and was once again spared to continue my pursuit of capturing the greatest spectacle of racing on film.
I did learn, or at least acknowledged that there is a remote possibility that these hardtops do lose complete control and do spin around and use part of the infield to find their way back onto the track and that I should maybe consider paying just as much attention to where the cars are that just past me as to those approaching. There is no safe place on the infield, they can lose it coming towards you and they can lose it behind you and come and bite you. I'm sure I'm the one to blame for the modern rule of nobody allowed in the infield anymore. Makes sense.
none in front
I did learn, or at least acknowledged that there is a remote possibility that these hardtops do lose complete control and do spin around and use part of the infield to find their way back onto the track and that I should maybe consider paying just as much attention to where the cars are that just past me as to those approaching. There is no safe place on the infield, they can lose it coming towards you and they can lose it behind you and come and bite you. I'm sure I'm the one to blame for the modern rule of nobody allowed in the infield anymore. Makes sense.
none in front