We decided to head to the tower and turn in our pictures and time slips, so as not to keep the Drag Week staff waiting any longer, since they had to make the trip to Michigan as well. I noticed people coming towards us with ice cream, and immediately looked over at my brothers.
"I haven't got my world famous Summit Motorsports Park pound of ice cream for a buck yet, perhaps we should do that first..."
"Naw! We'll get that after we turn in our slips", Boone and Dale answered in unison, so I followed their lead.

We walked out of the time slip room about ten minutes later with our official Drag Week time slips, and route sheets in hand. I looked at the back: 259 miles, ouch. Then I looked at the front and realized it was only 64 miles to the first checkpoint.
"OK, that's doable" I thought to myself, "once we get there, we can regroup and figure out if we can make it all the way tonight."
We walked around to the ice cream booth, with a couple in front of us, but as we approached a smiling young lady was standing in front and proclaiming they were closed for the day. I was about to protest, but took one look at the three elderly ladies removing their smocks and stowing their dippers. I realized they looked as exhausted and worn out as we did! Rachael sprinted to the nearest concession stand and bought four of their premade frozen waffle cone treats (at substantially more than a buck a piece) and we made do, but I felt like I can't really cross Summit Motorports Park off my list without another visit at a later date.

I tossed the trusty Harbor Freight moving blanket on the asphalt next to the drivers side of the car, and got down on it to install the side pipe. The Valiant was providing shade, and I decided to rest my eyes for a few minutes. The adrenaline of racing the car was long gone, as was the two hours of sleep from this morning. I jerked awake as Rachael kicked my feet.
"Dang it Dad! Wake up!" She stood over me with hands on hips as I rolled on my back to look up at her.
"You've been installing that one pipe for twenty minutes so Boone told me to check on you!"
"No...I just closed my eyes for a second..."
"Get moving, I want to get to the motel in time to actually sleep tonight", she spun on her heels and continued to pack the Belvedere.
"Hey", I yelled at her, suddenly remembering a question I had for her that had slipped my mind, "Did you give that empty nitrous bottle to Monte for a re-fill?"
"Yeah", she answered, "but he was packing everything away, so he said I could get it back in Martin."
"Good, one less thing we have to load up!"

We pulled into the 7/11 BP gas station in Monroeville, nine miles from the track, and everyone fueled up on pump gas, sodas, and ice for our coolers. It was 4:15pm, and for a change, we weren't the only Drag Weekers on the road. It felt like we might actually catch up to the timeline of the event if we could drag ourselves another two hundred and fifty miles without falling asleep at the wheel or breaking anything.