Too Close
We always stood in the infield as close to the track as possible. I can think of several reasons, but the one that makes the most sense now is the one we would never admit, stupidity. No matter how often we about got run over, it never seemed to sink into our teen-aged minds that we once again had a near death experience. One reason that made sense to us then was that we could communicate with the drivers better and let them know of danger around the turn they were about to negotiate. We also found ourselves letting them know their fiercest competitor was approaching fast and that they had better step on it or suffer the consequence of seeing another rumble seat in front of them.
Another reason was we wanted to make sure we were the first to arrive on the scene of an accident because almost always somebody would get upside down. We would be the hero by helping roll the car back onto its feet and the driver could then continue on. After all, without us there so quickly they might not have been able to finish the race.
And the closer to the roar of all that horsepower, the rumble of those twelve inch Firestones pounding the mud, the odor of the exhaust, burning oil, grinding metal and burnt clutches and witnessing the man-handling of those ever out of control jalopies through the clay trenches was all reason enough to risk life or limb by standing as close as we could without becoming part of that clay.
My best reason that seemed to always convince those that were lacking the guts to get as close as we did, was that I had this little camera with no zoom, so I had to get close to get the best shots as possible. After all, some day, some how, those photos may just be enjoyed by millions on some website somewhere. And if those millions get close enough, they just may see those photos right here at Vallejo Hardtops, without getting run over.
Enjoy the mud......
none in front
Another reason was we wanted to make sure we were the first to arrive on the scene of an accident because almost always somebody would get upside down. We would be the hero by helping roll the car back onto its feet and the driver could then continue on. After all, without us there so quickly they might not have been able to finish the race.
And the closer to the roar of all that horsepower, the rumble of those twelve inch Firestones pounding the mud, the odor of the exhaust, burning oil, grinding metal and burnt clutches and witnessing the man-handling of those ever out of control jalopies through the clay trenches was all reason enough to risk life or limb by standing as close as we could without becoming part of that clay.
My best reason that seemed to always convince those that were lacking the guts to get as close as we did, was that I had this little camera with no zoom, so I had to get close to get the best shots as possible. After all, some day, some how, those photos may just be enjoyed by millions on some website somewhere. And if those millions get close enough, they just may see those photos right here at Vallejo Hardtops, without getting run over.
Enjoy the mud......
none in front