I heard a barely muffled machine pulling into the parking lot, as the clerk stared at her computer monitor, while tapping the keys on her board, presumably trying to conjure up another room.
I stepped out of the lobby door, expecting to see one of my brothers coming around the corner; instead it was Daryl Yost's Pro-charged Chevelle. He pulled just past the lobby entrance and shut it off, as I held the door open for him to enter.
"My brothers said you were getting a driveshaft made in Kenosha when they were having their cylinder head repaired! So why are you just now rolling in?"
"Oh good grief", He laughed, "We installed the new shaft, and prepared to head out, only to find it vibrated just as bad as it did with the damaged one! Turns out the chrome-moly 1350 yoke on the rear end was bent as well. Finally, we located a shop in Union Grove called SRT that claimed to have one, and we limped over there to get it."
"That place was insane", he shook his head, "Lots of toys, 4 wheelers, snowmobiles, every kind of race car you could think of, so they got me fixed up and we finally got away from there!"
"So Mike made it okay in the Pontiac", I questioned, referencing his "odd couple" traveling partner.
"Oh, yeah...but he had the good sense to get a motel on the other side of the track!" he laughed again, still pretty lighthearted after a long day.
He picked up his room key, and entered the room just down the hall from the one I had, only long enough to toss his bag inside, then he came back to the desk and asked the clerk for a luggage cart. That struck me as a strange request, but she produced one from a back room, and he wheeled it out the door. Five minutes later, he came back in with his slicks stacked on the cart and headed for his room. He had been carrying them strapped to a hitch receiver rack behind the back bumper of his Chevelle, but obviously didn't like the idea of leaving them on it overnight. When he brought the cart back, we resumed our conversation, and I explained my current situation to him.
"Hey, if they don't find you a second room", he offered, "I'm by myself in a two bed room, so a couple of your crew can bunk in there if need be!"
I assured him that I wouldn't hesitate to knock on his door if it came to that, and he sauntered off in the direction of his room. After a couple of steps, he half-turned, and with a big smile, commented:"Ya know, I've dreamed of doing Drag Week for quite a while, and this has been great, but an eleven hundred dollar day can suck that enthusiasm right out of you!"
"Get some rest buddy! I promise it will be better tomorrow", I told him, as he headed off in the opposite direction.

Ten minutes later, all the Gebhart crew rolled in, and the clerk really started feeling the pressure. She finally asked if we knew Jesse Madafari, of all things.
"Of course we do, he's one of the guys doing drag week with us", I offered.
"Well, the last time he called, asking about his reservation, he was still an hour out", she looked at us dourly, "so I'm going to put you in that room, and we'll have to find him something on the other side."
I wasn't surprised that Jesse and his grandson were still out on the road, because he refuses to leave anyone behind, exactly the kind of guy who revels in helping out during a roadside thrash! I wasn't about to argue with her though, so we accepted the keys, and started loading in our gear into the two rooms. James pulled me aside on one of our trips, to explain something to me.
"You know...Rachael didn't shut the Belvedere off at the checkpoint, even though I asked her to..."
"What do you mean", I cut him off, "I heard the car quit running, then she handed you the keys!"
The anger was gone, I wasn't arguing with him, but I knew exactly what I saw and heard that set me off back there.
He put his hands up, fingers splayed, palms towards me, as if to hold me back, "Seriously, it just died...and then after you left, we jumped it, and it wouldn't start! Finally we figured out that it was out of gas, and we had to push it across the street to the station!"
"Out of gas", I stared at him, hands on hips, "We had only driven seventy-five miles, how the heck was it out of gas?"
"Remember when you scolded her for buying the expensive gas at our first stop? She stopped pumping as soon as you said something about it, and shut off the pump!" He shook his head, "She's all out of sorts, you really had her upset!"
"James...she's twenty-six, not seventeen! I expect to pay attention to her surroundings!"
"Well" he blushed, shaking his head, "My girls haven't hit puberty yet, so I haven't got the experience you do...but I think having her boyfriend on this trip was a bad idea!"
"That's something we can agree on for sure", I smiled, "did the Gremlin quit drinking water?"
"I think the bars-leak did the trick", he surmised,"guess we'll find out for sure tomorrow when she's under a strain!"

When I entered the room, Rachael and Skippy were showering, and Boone looked as though he was waiting his turn. I changed to my shorts, and crawled in bed without any further discussion. I was unconscious in a matter of seconds.