Before going on a Cub Scout campout–literally the last thing I did before we walked out the door–I bought tickets for my dad, my son, and I to attend the Coca-Cola 600 NASCAR race in Charlotte. My dad has trouble walking and on stairs, so I first tried to get “mobility-impaired seating,” but a Ticketmaster agent with a foreign accent said the only seating of that type available was for 1) people in wheelchairs and 2) with only one companion. Since we had three people and no wheelchair, I just ordered regular tickets and figured I could help my dad get in and out. Six hours later, I stumbled in the dark and broke my knee, ending up on crutches for the next 8 weeks.
I called Lowes Motor Speedway, whose agents were helpful, and Ticketmaster, whose agents were not despite their $15 “service” charge, trying to figure out the logistics of getting two mobility-impaired adults and one child to some seats. After several calls back and forth, I established where to park and that our tickets were only 4 rows down from a level accessible by elevator, which seemed acceptable.
We met my parents at my brother’s house in Rock Hill Saturday. After church and lunch on Sunday, my dad, my son, and I headed to the track for the race. Pleasantly, we did not hit any traffic until we got off I-485 at the exit for the Lowes Motor Speedway–and even then the backed-up traffic was only for the two miles on US 29, not even on the exit ramp. We were able to park directly across from the pedestrian bridge over US 29 nearest our gate, and a shuttle golf cart gave us a ride over that. Inside the track, we discovered that we had to climb one flight of stairs down from the elevator’s stop to the top of grandstands. Handrails on that flight made it more manageable than the grandstand stairs though.
We watched the pre-race activities, including several military helicopters flying into the track in honor of Memorial Day. One had troops rappel down from a hovering copter onto the infield grass. Another transport helicopter brought a pace car into the track for the day’s race. Usually after the national anthem, there’s a commercial break in the TV coverage, and then they have a race marshal or someone say, “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Sunday, the cars were not yet on the track during the national anthem. Apparently someone was looking at the weather radar: The teams started rolling the cars out after the anthem, but before the last 4-5 got from behind the wall onto pit road, it started raining hard, about 6:00 pm.
Sunday it rained off and on, with the blowers out trying to dry the track during the breaks. Apparently after a good soaking it takes about two hours to dry it, and when more rain started in about 8:30, they called the race off until noon on Monday.
We left the stands made our way back to the car, taking the elevator back down but having to walk across the bridge. The hardest part was Dad getting his walker the four rows up out of the grandstand, but he managed. We pulled out and into the nearest line leaving the parking lot, moving about 100 feet. In the next 2-1/2 hours, we moved another 3 car lengths–and 2/3 of that only because two cars in front of us left the line. Thankfully and at our urging, Pete went to sleep in the back seat around 11:00 pm. Three hours after getting to the car, we finally were 2.5 miles away, but back on I-485 and zipping along in light traffic. We got back to my brother’s house at 12:45 am.
The next morning, I packed, ate breakfast, went to church, and went to lunch with the rest of the family. My dad decided not to attempt another assault on Chrysler Grandstand B, Row 47, so I drove back to the race with Pete. Again, traffic was moving steadily until we got to US 29, and then it still flowed faster than Sunday–we made it to the track in about 15 minutes instead of 45. We were able to park again near the pedestrian bridge, and again catch a ride over it.
The weather forecast had looked promising for at least a couple hours of racing until more rain moved in. I had decided we should leave around 5pm–ideally while they were either racing or drying the track–to get back on the road to Chapel Hill with a chance a getting home at a decent hour, since Pete had school the next day. We got to our seats around 11:30 am, the weather looked good, and the cars were out and ready to be fired up. Pete and I were grinning at each other in eager anticipation. Around noon, they had another invocation and national anthem, then the engines roared to life, and we all cheered. The race was soon underway. There was one competition caution at lap 40 and a few debris cautions–including after Kevin Harvick brushed the wall–but no crashes. A short downpour brought out a long, 1.5-2-hour red-flagged rain delay around lap 80. Another stop at lap 176 followed a brief sprinkle, and it only took 30 minutes to dry the track then. By that time, I thought we should leave after lap 200 and arbitrarily picked lap 210. Jeff Gordon had been setting up to pass Denny Hamlin from lap 207 or so, so we stayed to watch the pass on lap 212, then left. As we were going to the elevator, we heard a caution come out. By the time we were walking across the bridge, we could feel it starting to drizzle and knew the caution was for rain.
We got out of the parking lot in good time this time around, but plenty of people had left during earlier rain delays, and traffic was stop-and-go up Speedway Blvd and for the first few miles on I-85. Although my good left leg worked the clutch, my right knee was starting to twinge a bit just going back between the brake and accelerator. Sunday, Dad had driven Mom’s Camry to avoid either of us working a clutch in heavy traffic, but Sunday it was just Pete and me in my standard-shift Honda. However, we got moving steadily before the twinges got any worse, and I got off the interstate before Greensboro to take US 64, on which traffic was very light and allowed cruise control.
Normally, I’d first head west on 64 over to I-85 Business and Lexington #1 BBQ, but a) I didn’t know if it was open Memorial Day, and b) I was tired and ready to get home. And we got home, uneventfully, around 7:15pm Monday night. This was my third time at this race. The first time I went to the Coca-Cola 600, it also rained (but not postponed), and I was also under an awning and avoided getting wet.
Pete was fantastically patient throughout the whole ordeal–driving down and back, tolerating his younger cousin’s need to watch “Tigger and Pooh” episodes at their house, sitting in traffic, sitting through rain delays, and sitting for 3 hours barely moving after sitting at the track Sunday. He even offered an unbidden “thank you for taking me to the race” while waiting for the start Sunday. I also got to spend a lot of time with my Dad, and we got to talk–instead of the nudge-and-point communication typical at races. All in all, it was a great time.
