Follow by Email

50 States Day 112

Day 112, Indianapolis Motor Speedway and Downtown,   93 Miles
"Everyone is self made; only successful people are willing to admit it."
~Tom Bissmeyer

Okay, sometimes we don't get along. This morning was one of those times. As we rode to the speedway, QG got nervous with the freeway traffic. She made some comments, and I got irritated. Traffic built along the speedway, and she got more tense, so I ratcheted up the anger. Finally I said, "Maybe we should just forget it." She seemed to think it might be a good idea, but we were close to the entrance (we'd been directed to the back area.) Begrudgingly (both of us) we continued into the track.
Then the skies opened up, harps played and angels sang.
We were riding our motorcycle on the track!

That's right, they directed us onto the track surface between three and four and we rode to the backstretch, parking the bike right on the 101 year old Indianapolis Raceway surface!

We got over our tiff immediately.
We did revisit it and talked about and owned what each of us did wrong. Good
The bikes race through one and two, then through chicanes infield. That’s why we parked on the track. We were on row 536, the fourth column. Kidding, but man there were a ton of bikes.

I'm not a big MotoGP guy, in fact I couldn't tell the difference between Ben Spies and Phil the plumber, except for Phil's plumber's bu- I mean, his build. Those racers are the size of jockeys. And their bikes, man. They accelerate to speeds of two hundred, brake into the turns, drag their knee, and have a contact patch the size of two credit cards. When we crossed over the track and they passed beneath us, the deck shook from the horsepower. And the smell of race fuel? Perfume indeed.

We wandered about and I actually bought a shirt at the Honda tent, my first article of clothing since our launch. Socks don't count. Here's something stupid: Every Honda shop I've been to except Dreyer's hasn't carried Honda shirts. Silly.

Yamaha did a great job of providing rides for the kiddies on mini bikes. Get them while they're young! And Ducati featured Ducati Island (where only that brand parks) and a plethora of rabid fans.

Oh! And how clever is this? You buy a ton of crap, more than you could possibly bring home, stop at the FedEx truck, ship it home and it gets there before you do. Keep buying more crap! Those FedEx folks are brilliant.
We visited the museum too, but I'll leave that for a few Special Features, the first entry in the previous blog.

Enough for one day, we headed back to the tent and QG took it easy while I rode back to downtown where thousands of bikers gathered. Because of the race, a plethora of bikes rode and parked; sport bikes, tourers, V Twin Harleys, Gold Wings and crazy bikes like you've never seen before.

Because the Gamer Convention assembled this weekend, too, we were treated to, different people. It made for an eclectic mix!
I'm from Las Vegas, so I have seen awesome street mimes. But this one painted himself silver, played music and held a sign encouraging us to pay him. Pathetic. He doesn't even get his photo in the blog.

The bikes continued to fill the area, and the music got louder, the booze took effect, and I had enough of unburned fuel and exhaust noise. Time to go home.
Tomorrow we Church Surch again, and no MotoGP. Since I'm no MGP expert, it would be a poor report indeed. Today's racing, qualifying and practice was enough. However, I'll get more photos and comments for you. See you then. Don't forget the previous blog for the Museum.

No comments: