That really does sound like an oxymoron—like Jumbo Shrimp.
But it really means a type of motorcycle and a race that lasts five hours—sometimes eight hours. Sponsored by CMRA, this race was at Oak Hill—just a bit north of Henderson Texas and in East Texas. Pine trees, cows, and giant earth mining equipment surround the race track. As I’ve mentioned before, the race weekend is truly a family event with mostly men and their sons but a few devoted girlfriends and wives and mothers. Most folks camp out with equipment ranging from motorcycle in back of truck and a pup tent pitched nearby to fancy RV’s with satellite TV and a complete mechanic shop.
I am always amazed at the niceness and generosity of the racers. There is very little foul language, everyone is in bed early—no generators or pit bikes after ten pm—and everyone is bushed after a day on the track. And then, if someone breaks something or needs a part for their bike, someone always seems to have a spare or lends a hand—to their competitor on the track the next race.
While my husband catches up on the gossip about assorted riders, I wander about the camping area taking photos. He takes photos of the racers; I take photos of things I find interesting—the flowers in the field next to the track, a little boy hoisted on his father’s shoulders to watch the race, an arrangement of new tires.
We set up in the field across from the track where I had an excellent view of Turn 2. The day was perfect, in the mid eighties, a slight breeze, and our new canopy easy to setup and generous in shade. Since my latest round with skin cancer, I am even more conscientious about avoiding the sun.
Butterflies—fritularies and sulphurs–danced about the brown-eyed Susans and I chased a few trying not to trip on the vines covering the pasture. My camera can do macros but then just when I think I’ve figured it out, the next photo is a total blur.
Lunch was a chopped barbeque sandwich with the most wonderful double fried French fries shared with my husband—two bites for me and three fries—and the rest for him. We drove home hardly able to keep our eyes off the gorgeous mackerel sky lit in oranges and yellows and golds and purples. Supper was an avocado with chopped scallions.
It was a good day.