Friday nights at the track are the best.

The whole weekend lies in front of you. Nervousness and excitement mix. The anticipation is high.

Your friends are arriving at the track. Friends you haven't seen since the last event 6 weeks ago.

The trash talk begins. Everyone has new stuff on their cars. The mostly-joking accusations of cheating are already flying.

Cars are unloaded. The paddock is filling up. Basic prep work is done, for we all know how early we get started tomorrow morning.

You wonder if you are going to get hassled about your cracked windshield by the tech guys. They love giving everybody shit. They don't even notice the crack.

The sun is setting. The sky is beautiful, but you don't vocalize that.

Most of your group is unpacked, except for the one friend that hasn't even left their house yet. He won't arrive until 1 AM.

The tent is up. The wheels are torqued.

Time to head to one of the two half-decent restaurants close enough to the track. We had Mexican last time, let's do BBQ tonight.

Another hour of trash talk. It's great to be back with these friends. You don't see them often enough.

The whole weekend lies in front of you.

Opportunities abound. To set a new PB. To move up to the next group. To finally master Turn 17.

You hope the car is going to perform. You hope that you aren't going to fuck up.

Dinner is over; the group parts ways. Your hotel is okay. You're only going to be there to sleep, anyways.

Check tomorrow's schedule again. Set three alarms.

Why must the driver's meeting be so early?

Nervousness and excitement mix.

Opportunities abound. The anticipation is high.

The whole weekend lies in front of you.

Friday nights at the track are the best.