Chasing Cars: Houston/Talladega (and the Deep South/Texas)

[UKCraig]

Day 9

Today was all about Talladega. Left Birmingham and headed off down the I-20, picked up my tickets at will call, then headed into the parking lot. Where I ran into one of the parking attendants - literally!!!! He just appeared from no where, right in front of my car, so I ran into him. Ooops. No broken bones and, just as important, no damage to the rental car LOL

It was just as exciting on-track, a fantastic race, and several large wrecks. Most of them caused by Tony Stewart. When I commented to the woman next to me, 'you gotta love Tony!' I thought she was gonna punch me. Thankfully the woman to my right (who'd won her tickets in a competition) was a whole lot more friendly and we started cheering for each others drivers - my driver was Montoya and hers was some guy called Huffman. They both ran okay but both finished pretty average. Which is far worse than the Navy band playing in the trade area outside, surprisingly for these sorts of things, they were fantastic and I stood for over 1/2 hour watching and listening to their show. Fantastic!

I'm now in yet another state - Georgia. Although Microsoft tried to liven up the journey, by sending me round what seemed like every street in one little town, there's no getting away from the fact that it's a pretty boring drive from the track to my hotel. I even tried to liven it up myself, by stopping in Anniston to check out the Worlds Largest Chair, but in the end gave up and just put the pedal to the metal to get to the hotel.

From the comfort of my armchair 5,000 miles away, I got myself into a minor panic about a room as everywhere I looked was fully booked. I had a choice of Birmingham, 50 miles to the west, or Cedartown, 75 miles to the west... in the middle of nowhere. I'd have chosen Birmingham but it was 3 times the price. Now, if I'd thought about it, I'd have realised the 50 miles were interstate door to door and the 75 miles most definately not. Lesson learned!

Anyway, I stayed in Birmingham last night, and they didn't bring me hot cookies and milk when I arrived. That was VERY cool - more hotels should do that - went down a treat!! Shame their internet doesn't work but, thankfully, it's back to the usual lax wi-fi security in this area and I have a choice of three networks to hook into.

Up early tomorrow, so should try and sleep, I guess.

[lhuff]

Oops - that was you who ran into the track official this time and not Kurt Busch. :)

I'm quite miffed that I didn't get to see the end of the race today, but there's nothing stopping my from tommorow's race. I plan on sitting in my living room watching the race while drinking a beer and dare anyone to interrupt me.

Ooh - the Navy band. The US Armed Forces, oddly enough, have the best orchestras and bands in the States. I would have given my eye-teeth to hear them.

Eh - about Streets and Maps. I've yet to see a mapping software that doesn't send me down (I kid you not) Billy Bob Road when leaving Keithville. It doesn't matter whether I'm headed east, west or north. They all lead to Billy Bob. Sad thing - I've lived in Keithville off and on since I was two. I have never heard of freaking Billy Bob road anywhere else but the internet. Even following the directions I can't find the stupid road. LOL

Laura

[UKCraig]

It wasn't so much that the guys were talented (they were) but they had real charisma and did their job (making the military seem attractive) very well indeed. They played a real mix of music, and played it well, unliked the dreadful 'Fab Five' at Houston!

[UKCraig]

Day 10 (dear god, already?!)

I was supposed to be meeting four friends from London for breakfast this morning but they weren't going to be at the agreed meeting point until later than planned, so I left the hotel at 5am and headed straight back to Talladega, making sure that I took a better route back to the interstate than I had last night!

I'd signed up for the 'Pit Lane Experience' which, the name suggested to me, meant I got to have a quick look round the pitlane. Now I've been in plenty of pitlanes in my time, mostly in Europe, and I was keen to see the differences otherwise I'd not have bothered. When I collected my race tickets I was surprised to discover that it actually came with full hospitality, driver talks and infield parking. I was impressed. Not as impressed as I was this morning when, whilst walking down pitlane, I got to meet Dale Earnhardt Jr!

I've never been one for 'celebrity', especially with racecar drivers. We work for so-called big names on a regular basis and I never understand how some of the people who I work with get so excited about it. But Jr is just a HUGE name and it was really cool to actually have a conversation with him, albeit brief. And, yes, he did ask if I'd 'come all the way from Scotland (!!) for the race?' I got a couple of photos and even got him to sign my pitlane pass. It may be sad, but that really made my day!

I think it must have made my friends jealous or something, cos I never heard from them all day after sending them a message to tell them! Haha, their loss, I spent the day chilling out in hostility, eating and drinking (soda, sadly, I was driving after all) and chatting with dozens more people who wanted to know what it was like to be British!

This is my third Nascar race visit and, on the previous two visits, the locals have generally been pretty out of control and a little worrying. This time, maybe because I treated myself to some real good seats, the guys around me were a real pleasure to be sat near. A couple of guys to my left had flown don from New York and a group of five bikers to my right had ridden down from Indianapolis. They were all impressed that I 'had come all the way from Scotland' (!!) and one of the bikers suggested I should go to the Brickyard 400 at Indy and 'come stay at my place' - I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or scared. I went with grateful, but I managed to sneak off at the end without taking their contact details anyway - phew! LOL

Talladega is renowned as being 'Earnhardt central' - Jeff Gordon isn't welcome - especially after the controvesy he last weekend. After winning his 76th Nextel Cup race, equalling Dale Seniors number of victories, he'd flown the number 3 flag from his car on his victory lap. This had angered some of the rednecks who took it to be some sort of insult and started pelting his car with trash and beer cans.

Initially I presumed that they must have been unable to understand the tribute as they were probably drunk but all week they'd been phoning in to Nascar Radio on Sirius (fabulous service incidently) whining and bitching about it. The idea that he could surpass Dale Seniors tally of victories at Talladega was something that must have been giving the organisers sleepless nights as a repeat of the post-race hooliganism was very much on the cards. Before the race the Chief of Police (I think) was shown repeatedly on the big screen pretty much telling people that, should they choose to misbehave in his town, they'd be lucky to escape getting shot. It would have intimidated me into behaving, but would it work out that way for the more volatile spectators?

It all looked reasonably safe that it'd be a peaceful end to the race. Jeff Gordon was way back in 20th place and Dale Jr was running fifth. It was even possible that Dale could take the victory. But, somehow, the number 24 car sped through the field and took the chequered flag. The locals went nuts and started hurling trash onto the track, followed by beer cans, full ones. Some of the cans didn't even make it over the catch fencing and were starting to rain down on the innocent spectators at the front of the grandstand.

Being British, we have an unfortunate reputation for being hooligans, due to our football fans going on the rampage over the years, and I've seen it in person on occasion, but that is nothing compared to these morons. Thankfully, as I decided to get the hell out of there, the local police started wading in and clubbing a few of them over the head. Which caused a round of applause to break out!

Getting out of the track was a breeze and I found myself in Montgomery a couple of hours earlier than expected. I was down to visit the Civil Rights Museum but it was sadly closed by the time that I did roll into town, so I spent twenty minutes admiring the fantastic Civil Rights Memorial which is a moving tribute to those killed in the movement. When you compare the way people handled themselves in the face of such unbelievable treatment, it really showed the rednecks back at the track up for what they are - utter morons.

Montgomery itself was a nice looking town which I would have liked to have stopped and explored but, with it getting dark it meant staying overnight, and I was keen to press on in order to give me more time for the last few days of my trip. So I pressed on until I finally pulled off the interstate at a Days Inn down on the Florida state line.

Another eventful day!

[Mark Sedenquist]

But, somehow, the number 24 car sped through the field and took the chequered flag. The locals went nuts and started hurling trash onto the track, followed by beer cans, full ones

Yeah, I saw some of the aftermath of Jeff Gordon's victory -- but I sure enjoyed your telling of the tale.

When you compare the way people handled themselves in the face of such unbelievable treatment, it really showed the rednecks back at the track up for what they are - utter morons.

I agree, but I hope you have the wisdom to keep those opinions to yourself when in their midst....

Another eventful day!

Yep, I would say!

Mark

[lhuff]

Pictures?!?! I want to see Jr.!!

Why the heck did everyone think you were Scottish? That's bizarre.

Eh - the carnage at Talledega was nothing compared to what I saw at the US Grand Prix at Indianapolis a few years ago. The idiots started throwing things on the track during the race and it had turned into a full-fledged riot by the time Schumacher took to the podium. Lianne had to drag me out by my collar. Sadly that was the third time that weekend I had managed to get myself in the midst of a mob. I kept running (literally once) into Schumi all weekend and would get stomped when the other idiots figured out who it was. :)

Laura

[lhuff]

I don't think I ever told you about the cool road from Baton Rouge to Opelousas that will bypass a huge amount of I-10 and goes through the heart of Cajun Country. You can buy real boudain and gator in several restaurants along the way.

Get off I-10 in Baton Rouge onto I-110 (it's a big huge bizarre interchange near where I-10 goes over the Mississippi. Do not cross the Mississippi there). Take I-110 (there's only one way to go from there - I think it's North but it could also be West). From I-110 look for Highway 190 west.

You'll eventually come to I-49 around Opelousas. Take 49 south and you'll run back into I-10 at Lafayette, which is one of your stops, I believe. Hard to believe but this shortcut used to cut over an hour off of my trip from Shreveport to New Orleans. Mainly because they kept having road construction over the Atchafalaya River Basin bridge. So not a good place to get stuck.

Sorry about telling you this so late.

Laura

[UKCraig]

Thanks for the tip... I picked it up when I stopped for groceries... in Lafayette! :) LOL

I'm at San Jacinto right now, just going to head back to Houston to try and pick up that baseball I didn't manage to buy last week! Then sadly it's back to the airport :( I'll try and bring this page up to date when I'm waiting for my flight.

[lhuff]

Maybe next time you go through Louisiana you can explore Cajun Country a little more.

Laura

[UKCraig]

Back home now, bloody knackered, only another ten hours to stay awake before I can sleep (the only way to overcome the jetlag quickly - go without sleep for 36 hours, go to bed your normal weeknight time, then up for work the next day at 6am - it works but it sucks!)

I did start to bring the diaries up to date at the airport but there wasn't a free wi-fi access point so I gave up! Here's what I did do though, the last couple of days will follow when I've recovered!! Thanks for all your suggestions guys, they all went to make a great break.

Day 11

The day started off well, if a little late, after a fantastic nights sleep - always a nice way to start a Monday morning! After a couple of days of being woken by my alarm clock I finally woke up at 9am. By the time I’d showered and repacked the car I was the last person to check out of the motel. I really should have left earlier as I was on a reasonably tight schedule to get down to New Orleans and have a good look around but my heart wasn’t really in it, maybe because of all the horror stories that I had heard of the aftermath left when Katrina blew through.

I’m not sure why but, when I realised how close I was to Florida, I decided to head over there… just because, I guess. Pensacola was the nearest town, and somewhere I’d never even heard of, so off I set to find out what was there. I hasn’t looked at the map properly, so didn’t realise just how far it actually was and the drive took quite a lot longer than I was expecting. Why is it that the signs off the interstate don‘t actually inform you how far a destination is until you‘ve turned off and driven ten miles across county? It certainly noticeable the way that the scenery changed in such a short distance, after I’d headed into Florida. After a brief look at Pensacola I headed off in the direction of where I should have been all along: New Orleans.

On my previous visits to the US I’d always ended up taking home armfuls of cheap clothes so this time I deliberately packed light. But the pre-planned visit to the designer outlet center in Dallas was a total washout - and I’m not just talking about the weather. Without a plentiful supply of new clothes I’d started to run out of fresh ones and had started to keep an eye out for another shopping mall. Passing Gulfport I spotted another outlet center and quickly spun the car around. It proved to be another total waste of time but I end up talking to a local for twenty minutes about Katrina and, predictably, England.

As I headed on towards Louisiana I started to notice increasing amounts of storm damage. Not anything huge but things such as those huge advertising towers alongside the road having been torn down by the storm and large lines of trees having been totally upended. But I’d been assured, both by the guy at the outlet center and the lady at the Louisiana visitor center, that all the reports were exaggerated and New Orleans itself had been fixed up and was now better than ever.

It had been suggested that I entered the city via the Lake Pontchartain Causeway and I thought, hey why not but, to force my mapping software to take me that route I had to enter a waypoint to the north of the causeway. Looking at the map I noticed that the Fairview-Riverside State Park was the perfect place to detour via and, as I was passing, it made sense to pop in to ask about camping. “Yes, sir, we have camping plots, $12 a night, hot showers and a good nights sleep guaranteed” - I couldn’t lose - and paid up there and then.

Having put up the tent I decided to face my demons and head into New Orleans to see if it was any better than the image that I’d picked up somewhere.

As I drove onto the causeway I couldn’t see the other side and thought to myself, oh my god those guys were lying to me, it HAS sunk into the sea, but looking over at my laptop explained the situation, “Continue on Causeway Boulevard South for 24 miles” Holy hell… that’s pretty much the same distance as crossing from England to France! It has to be said, after the novelty wore off, it was actually quite a tedious drive, even if the surroundings were pretty impressive. I wonder how many people manage fall asleep on that stretch of road, I know I almost did!

The road system on the other side of the lake was like a bowl of spaghetti, and forced me to wake up fast, but I managed to find myself passing the infamous Superdome and heading into the French Quarter. Streets & Trips took this moment to throw a wobbly, first crashing, then being unable to pick up any of the GPS satellites due to the high buildings, so it was purely good luck that saw me driving straight into Bourbon Street. Either that or bad luck. Cos it was full of nutters who seemed intent on kicking in the side of my car or, even better, the underside of the car… at least that is the only reason that I could come up with for them all trying to get me to drive over them.

After six or eight blocks of madness I got a bit bored and headed down towards the waterfront where the lady in the welcome center had suggested I would find a lot of parking. There was indeed lots of, erm, lots. It’s just my luck that the entry barrier on the one I turned into was broken and unable to give me a ticket. Remembering that the LDW insurance on the car didn’t cover tyre damage I did what the big sign said and didn’t ‘back up’ over the spikes and proceeded straight to the exit to explain the situation. The two muppets stood in the booth wanted to charge me $6 just for having driven through and, when I said I wasn’t going to pay for doing that, one of them pretty much threatened to get the boys down to sort me out! Eventually we reached an understanding that, in return for a hand written ticket, she would get the queue behind me to ‘back up’ and I would indeed park there for the duration of my stay. Unbelievable.

If my image of the city being full of nutters wasn’t confirmed by what I’d witnessed so far then it certainly was when I actually got out to explore on foot. If it wasn’t mad old women coming up to me, shaking my hand and telling me ‘god bless you’, then it was drunken guitar players taking offence when I declined their offer to donate to their personal pension fund. After an hour I was done and headed off for a drive down St Charles Avenue where I’d been told I would find lines of impressive houses.

After a few blocks I realised that, yes, they were very nice but that I’d seen plenty of nice houses in my lifetime and so I headed towards the Garden District to look there. As I turned off St Charles Avenue my jaw must have hit the floor, the entire scenery changed, it was like stepping into a war zone. People were living by the side of the road, in the rubble of their entirely collapsed houses or, if they were lucky enough to have a house, they had entire walls or even roofs missing or covered by blue tarpaulins. Street after street totally destroyed, it felt like I was laughing at them driving through gawping out of a flash car. My camera had actually stopped working earlier that day but, even if it had been working, I’d have been too ashamed to take any photos. I will never understand how probably the worlds richest country can leave those guys living like that after so long.

I had planned to return for a second look in the morning but, with this bad taste in my mouth, I decided I’d had enough of New Orleans and got the hell out of there. As I left I noticed a whole load of signs with encouraging messages like ‘Thou shall not kill’ and ‘Take it out on the government, not each other’ - I felt like crying for those people who’d been abandoned. I was glad to get back to the campsite and turn in for an early night.