Dreams of burning rubber

The smell or orange blossoms and gasoline in the air means the 12 Hours of Sebring has returned! This year celebrates 60 years of racing and, as you’re reading this, I’m somewhere on the trackside soaking up the sun’s harmful ultraviolet rays while I watch a variety of cars zip around the notoriously bumpy raceway.

I’m sure that I’m getting a slightly unhealthy dose of crowd interaction also. Hand sanitizer is a must-have any time you plan on attending a public function, but especially when you go to the Sebring races.

I’ve always fancied myself an undiscovered amateur racecar driver. Goodness knows I have put in some practice over the years on the many back roads of Highlands and Polk counties.

My first car was a 1985 Mercury Lynx hatchback. That poor Lynx saw some intense moments on the road, but the fastest I ever forced it to travel was around 110 miles per hour which made it shake as if it were going to fall to pieces.

You could say I’ve slowed down over the years, though I do tend to speed more when I’m alone in the car. If the kids are with me, they act as witnesses who love to tell on me as soon as Daddy gets home, so I try to keep my inner speedster in check.

The races are a bad influence on me. Every time I head towards the track, I feel my foot pressing down more on the gas pedal the closer I get. When I hear the noise of the cars, I can’t help myself and, before I know it, I’m going 80!

Though I’ve been around the track at a normal speed, my dream is to get behind the engine of a racing machine and tear up the road. I imagine gripping the wheel of a diesel-powered prototype car and zigzagging in and out of the pack to hold the lead and snag the best overall lap time.

While the races are on, my sister has parked her brand new 2012 Dodge Challenger at my house because she doesn’t want to risk it getting scratched at the track. The temptation to take it for a spin is just about to overwhelm me. I know that she knows the mileage on the odometer and I also know she’ll eventually forgive me if I decide to add a few extra miles without her permission.

The biggest reason I want to drive her car is because of a certain toy she found on her dash display. Apparently, the car challenges you to discover how fast you can achieve the speed from zero to 60 mph! How cool is that? Then, it keeps a record of your best time. Because you can’t turn or brake at all during the timing, she hasn’t had a chance to record anything on it which means there is no record to break so I guess I’ll resist the urge to borrow her car for now.

If you’re at the races, come visit our camp between turns 8 and 9. We’re next to the house boat. Yes, someone brought their boat. It makes a weird kind of sense when you don’t have a camper.

If you have access to a fast car and you want to give me an opportunity to play racecar driver, let me first give a quick disclaimer: I said I drive fast, but never said I drive well; however, I do use my blinkers.