Greased Lightening
I found a new thing that I am really no good at the other day; go-cart racing. I had managed to go 31 years with out learning about that weakness, but it was made all too clear last Thursday.
I had never even thought about go-carts before, let alone paying to race around in one, but I decided to go with some coworkers while I was out of town on business. Go-carts are not made for adults. At least, go-carts are not made for 6’6” tall adults. I did actually manage to get myself into the thing, actually “onto” is a better description. I imagine that I must have looked quite a bit like a spider crouched over its latest kill as I puttered down the track.
I think there were several factors that contributed to my overall lack of speed. Number one, I weigh somewhere around 215 pounds. The engine hated me. Number two, I have very large feet. They stuck up into the air in the front of the cart like giant baffles. The friction caused by my size 13 New Balances pushing through the air caused my feet to glow like the space shuttle’s nose cone on reentry. Number three, I do not watch NASCAR. I have never watched NASCAR, and I for one have come to regret it. I had no idea how to take a turn in the thing. My fellow racers were sliding sideways through the turns, carving perfect lines and barely losing speed. I was coming in at odd angles that defied all geometry and reaching a near standstill as I came out the other side.
As I pulled into the pit to park my cart at the end of the race, I learned the fourth and probably most significant reason that I was such a pathetic, snail paced racer. I got out of my car and noticed that the brakes were smoking. They looked to be just this side of bursting into flames. I realized that my massive frame crammed into the cart had left my heel no place to go but the brake. I had been lightly riding the break with my left heel on and off the entire time! The supervisor walked over to my car and pointed at the smoke. “It’s smoking” he said in a disgusted tone. I agreed. “I believe”, I added, “that it was smoking when I got it.” I didn’t wait around to see who won the race.
Comments
Maybe you should start with something a bit less intimidating. Mark came home from the L.A. area on Sunday with a swap meet treasure! He found a Mexican man selling a reasonable facsimile to the cart in the movie Nacho Libre. There was no way he could pass it up. My kids are taking turns driviing it up and down our street. Michael(14) has plans to drive it to his friend's house after school. He is hoping that the batteries will last long enough to get there. Mark told him to put the battery charger in a brown paper bag and put it in the cart. Why the brown bag? Is someone going to spy it as Michael flies by at 3 miles an hour, then trot over and scoop it out of the cart? You never know. Mark seems to be wise in the way of unusual things so we do as we are told.
Posted by: sue | October 10, 2006 02:37 PM