Rachael came out of the bathroom, fully dressed, but still using a towel on her hair and mumbled, "Mike Crow hit a deer last night."
"WHAT?"
"Yeah, Pops and I drove by this white car sitting on the shoulder, and I told him it was a Drag Week car. We stopped and I jumped out, and walked back to check on them. The front of the car was mangled, then Mike stepped out and said they were Ok, they just hit a deer. I offered to get them drinks, but he said they were fine and had someone coming to get them."
"Wow, it's the curse of KSJ..."
"What are you talking about?"
"KSJ, from Moparts, you know, Donnie, uh Don McGinnis, he had a new Challenger..."
She looked at me like I had two heads, tossed her hands in the air, shrugged her shoulders, and shook her head, "DAD, I don't get on Moparts!"
"Ok, fine, never mind!"

We met Dad in the lobby, grabbed a little bit off the continental breakfast, and headed to the track. Two miles later the Belvedere coughed a few times, died, and Rachael coasted to the side of the road. "Guess I cut that gas thing a little too close", she laughed as she grabbed a can out of the trunk. We had just cleared an entrance ramp, and she headed down it backwards at a good jog towards the station at the base of the ramp.
I looked at Dad, "Bet she doesn't come back up that ramp nearly as fast!"
He smiled, "I doubt it! Guess the boys will get to the track before we do."
"I hope so, Dad, I hope so."

I called Boone when we entered the gates at Heartland Park, and he told me they were pitted down by the garages, where we were in 2011, that made it easier to find them, as they were away from everyone else. We found out later that Hot Rod had purposely asked everyone to pit in the same general area, to make it a better experience for the spectators, but by rolling in late we missed that memo.

I decided to concentrate on getting Rachael and the Belvedere ready to run first, since the session of class cars had already finished, and the rest of us would have to wait for the open session. With three passes on Monday, I figured a fresh bottle of N20 may be in order, so I swapped them out, tightened everything up, and turned on the bottle. I heard a weird sound, and it stopped when I turned the bottle back off. "What was that?" I asked from the trunk, where I was still bent over the bottle.
"Don't know", James commented as he looked under the hood, "I didn't see any leaks."
"Trade me places, you turn it on, and I'll watch under the hood." The sound of the plate spraying for all it was worth was unmistakable, and cold, white vapor rolled out of the breather, "Shut it off, we just filled the engine with nitrous!"

Dale shook his head as we started pulling the plugs out of the Belvedere, "I'm going to go on up, and get my run out of the way, then I can concentrate on helping everyone else."
"Sounds like a plan", I agreed.