Oilpressure

By Susan Phillips

I’m so happy to be back at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway—I can’t say the temperatures here are not a lot different than being here in May. I’m still trying to be fully hydrated from last weekend—it was so much fun in our hometown, but there was a lot of walking. My legs are much shorter than George’s, so I have to take two steps for every one step he takes. He is very patient with me and has to wait for me to catch up, but I can feel my stamina coming back every day—or every track that we go to.

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Good morning from a very sunny Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The rain that was promised overnight barely showed up. We left the track at around 9:15 last night, and it sprinkled a little bit on us as we drove to the hotel. That appears to be all we got. It’s currently 70°, with a projected high of 83°. I would like to say that we enjoyed dinner at one of our usual spots, but we didn’t. Instead, we went got take-out at the Arby’s next to our hotel.

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For the second time in five days, I was at a race track as darkness began to fall with cars still on track. It was not near as dark at IMS as it was in Nashville this past Sunday night, but a few dark clouds crept over as the final round was being run.

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Welcome to the hallowed grounds of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. As I type, I am having to do so while doing something I haven’t done since attending the 105th Indianapolis Motor Speedway in May – I am wearing a mask. This is a NASCAR mandate, something they instituted about ten days ago. That only applies to inside the media center. The paddock and pits do not require masks.

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As you read this on Friday morning, Susan and I are on our way to Indianapolis for the Big Machine Spiked Coolers Grand Prix. What is that, you ask? It is the long and awkward title sponsor name for the IndyCar race on the IMS road course for the Brickyard Weekend.

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Most of my childhood heroes are gone now. That’s one of the problems with growing old; all of the people you looked up to as a child are no longer around. AJ, Mario and Big Al are still with us, but Father Time spares no one. I consider my adulthood to have started when I went off to college in the fall of 1976. Many of those that I have looked up to as an adult are still with us, although even some of them have been taken from us, far too soon. One of those left us on Monday, when Bob Jenkins passed away at the age of seventy-three.

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Based on what I’ve read on social media, there were not a lot of kind things said about the racing that took place in yesterday’s (last night’s) Big Machine Music City Grand Prix. When I first heard the 4:30 pm starting time, I figured the race would be over well before dark. When I learned that there would only be eighty laps run over the 2.17 mile circuit, I feared in might only take an hour and a half to run the race. Silly me.

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