Flannel Was My Camouflage

So there we were.  Finally.  And under the cover of the night.

Talladega.

After a lengthy detour for educational purposes we reached our destination.  It was impossible to understand exactly the scale of our new landscape.  But there we were, in the midst of it.  Hungry.  For food and adventure, but appetite for food took hold.  We decided that after setting up the tent we would eat and make it an early night and reserve ourselves for the next day.

As the sun woke so did we.  To the sound of a generator roaring next to our heads fueling the party needs of some of those around us, and off in the distance, you could make out the sound of cars humming past this barbaric scene.  The air also held the smell of the fires that raged the night before keeping those around them warm.  Once we opened the door to the tent, we were confronted with the enormity of everything around us; everything the night tried to hide from us.

This photo does little to describe the conditions to which we awoke, the sun burned off the fog and a breeze blew from the north to help clear the air, but it does begin to show what we inserted ourselves into.  As Saturday continued on, and the hours since my last shower grew greater, we did what our instincts directed us to, eat.  The festivities during the day were only there as a placeholder for what was to come that night.

Sunday was the main draw for most of those in attendance, but Saturday night had to pass first.  It tried relentlessly to not let Sunday morning arrive, but the fatigue from the work week before and the partying that day eventually washed over the masses.

Sunday morning came in much like Saturday.  The same noises and smells as the previous morning.  But Sunday also brought with it more.  More people.  More traffic.  Just more.  But it was why we were there, wasn't it?  NASCAR.  And where else to better experience it than in the heart of the South?  I couldn't think of a better place so there we were.  Despite the energy expelled the night before, the air still rang with energy. Or was that ringing still the generators?  Either way the morning was buzzing, along with my head.

So I began my day of observation by recording that panoramic above of our campsite.  It stretched nearly a mile and a half from end to end.  And as I would come to find out that afternoon, the smart ones had left earlier in the morning.  But around us were still people and sights worth noticing.  Many buses converted into RVs or something of that nature, but used primarily for partying, I assume both on the way to an event like this and of course throughout the durration of their stay.

And the people.  It's hard to find the words to describe them, and I don't mean that in an insulting way.  It's just that there isn't a single type of person there.   Sure, most of them are probably drinking, heavily, but there is more to it.  They work hard throughout the entire year, and this is their vacation.  I guess what sets it apart from a family vacation to a more scenic area (say a beach, or something more people would consider "normal") is just the location.  Modest.