Stalled by Speedway Traffic

If you’re thinking about going to next year’s NASCAR race at the Kentucky Speedway, then you ought to be leaving right about now. That’s the lesson I learned yesterday as I crawled in traffic for more than four hours.

Sure, the racing was good for the inaugural race at Kentucky … at least for the half I saw. The track looked great, too.

But getting there was a nightmare.

I know for an event like this that you better leave early and expect to park far away and walk a lot. But Kentucky Speedway obviously has problems other tracks don’t. For starters, it simply doesn’t have enough roads or parking lots. That problem won’t be solved overnight, but other problems can be fixed through better management.

Having been to many of these races all across the country, here are a few of the random thoughts that occurred to me between four-wheeling through gullies and dodging wayward canines … and a lot of waiting.

· Lack of direction. I never saw anyone directing traffic anywhere until I was almost directly upon the track. By then, it was too little, too late. Far before that, people began fending for themselves, leading to absolute confusion and chaos. To restore order, there should have been people along the route providing critical information, such as distance remaining to the track, lots, etc.

· Looking for a sign. There was a lack of signs both inside and outside the track, making everything from finding a parking lot to finding your seat absolute guesswork. If I were track owner Bruton Smith, I would name the grandstands something other than “5C” and have them marked with big signs, like other venues.

· Capitalism in the countryside. One of the most frustrating things about getting to the track is there seemed to be fields everywhere suitable for parking, but unoccupied. For every track I’ve visited, “unsanctioned” lots are as important as the sanctioned ones. I’ve parked at churches, elementary schools, golf ranges and many front yards. Maybe the speedway’s neighbors didn’t realize how willing and how much people would pay to park in proximity to the track. To paraphrase President Reagan – the king of capitalism – “Mr. Landowner, Open up Those Fields!”

· There’s bound to be another way. Actually, there is. Lanes coming from the speedway were deserted. They should have been converted to one way before and after the race, like they do in Darlington. Some people did this anyway, driving the wrong way in the emergency lanes. I’m far too law-abiding for that, even though the likelihood of getting caught would have been nil (see my first point).

I will tip my hat, however, to the many shuttles to and from the track. If not for them, I wouldn’t have seen any of the race. And I did see enough to know that Kyle Busch won. He negotiated the traffic far better than I could.

Johnson's Success Part of NASCAR's Ills

I’ve gotten a lot of enjoyment out of NASCAR racing over the years. I’ve been to races at six different tracks, eaten bologna sandwiches with Jeff Gordon and ran into Dale Earnhardt coming out of a bathroom. In other words, Sundays were pretty much devoted to racing. However, over the last few years, I’ve begun to lose interest. I can’t put my finger on exactly why, but I’ve got some ideas. Following are a few of them.

No more overweight drivers. The overweight driver is Everyman. People complained that race car drivers weren’t “real athletes.” Drivers responded with a commitment to fitness, making big drivers a thing of the past. The last one I remember is Jimmy Spencer. Sure, Tony Stewart flirts with it, but won’t fully commit.

No real characters. Drivers today are entirely too polished. I think it started with Gordon, who was trained as much as a pitchman as a driver. Guys like Dale Earnhardt would tell you like it was. Today, every accident is simply “a racin’ thing.” The only time I got passionate last season is when Gordon and Johnson got a little chippy with each other, which leads me to my next point.

Too much Jimmy Johnson. Sports get boring when the same person or team always wins. Parity is one of the reasons the NFL is so exciting. In contrast, look at women’s basketball. UConn won another title? Yawn. Johnson isn’t doing NASCAR any favors by winning five straight championships.

Not enough Dale Earnhardt Jr. There is an army of people eager for Dale Earnhardt to assume his father’s crown, including me. Unfortunately, he hasn’t been able to do it, even after moving to NASCAR’s most successful team.

Races are too long. I can mow and trim the lawn, wash and wax two cars, shop for groceries, grill hamburgers, take a nap and still wake up in time for the last 111 laps.

Too many races. In addition to Sprint Cup races, there are truck races and Nationwide races competing for racing fans’ attention. It dilutes the sport. Think about it. There’s a reason networks aren’t scurrying to televise minor league baseball and developmental basketball. No wonder I lose interest in racing as soon as football season starts. By that time, Johnson is usually picking up his billionth trophy anyway.

“If the race were to end right now” graphic. I know this one is petty, but the race ISN’T going to end right now. It never does. See above.

The Chase. It takes a mathematician to figure out the many subtleties of the NASCAR points system, now marketed as “The Chase.” Here’s a tip: Simplify it. If math were entertaining, it wouldn’t take so long for me to balance my checkbook.

So these are the reasons I’ve begun to lose interest in NASCAR, leaving only one last question to be answered. If I go cold turkey, what will I do with my Sundays? I’m thinking PGA Golf. Sure, it’s long, but at least there are some overweight guys.

Moving Mountains

I just returned from Bristol Motor Speedway in Bristol, Tenn. Returning from Bristol is the easy part. Getting there is another matter.

Bristol is in the mountains of eastern Tennessee. You won’t find much parking near the track. Even if there was more, you wouldn’t want to park there. You’d be trapped for days, snowed in behind more than 100,000 NASCAR fans.

As a result, the only way to get to the track is to walk … and walk … and walk some more. The countryside is rugged. The best thing I can compare it to is being a horse in a steeplechase. My friend Kenny and I walked across fields, over mountains, through barbed wire fences and over gates. There was a creek, too, but we didn’t have to jump it … at least not this time.

The whole way the track is on the horizon, but never gets any closer, no matter how far you walk. Tickets to the event should be printed with the following admonishment: Warning, track is further than it appears.

Perhaps appropriately, considering you’re trekking to a half-mile bullring, it’s a circuitous route. I sometimes thought I should drop a trail of breadcrumbs (or Fritos), just in case I got lost and couldn’t find my way back.

Of course, if you enjoy short track racing like I do, then Bristol is the place to be … even if you have to move mountains to get there.