Sometimes I wish I was still 19 and stupid.

I'm laying in bed last night, enjoying a peaceful night with a book. I've got the balcony door open in my room, letting the cool breeze in. (Christine was at a friend's house, that's how I was able to get away with having the door open when it was 12 degrees outside). Anyways, suddenly I'm interrupted in mid-paragraph by the sound of a V8 pickup with glasspacks roaring down the road below my house, and I mean wide open... the noise fades slightly, then returns, just as loud.. and then a third time. I think, "What the hell, is he doing laps?... Waitaminute, he is doing laps!" *For those who are unfamiliar with my neighborhood, there's an old abandoned oval racetrack in the trees just off the road nearby. The gated access to the track is well down the road from my driveway, but the back stretch of the track borders on the field behind my house.* I jump off the bed and run to the window, sure enough there's two sets of headlights flying through the trees, the loud one in the lead and a quiet one following. Every time they round a corner there's tire squealing and resulting laughter, obviously from people piled into the back of the pickup. I head downstairs and throw on some shoes, intent on getting down there in time to watch a few laps before they take off. 30 seconds later I'm halfway through the field to the footpath that leads to the track, the noisy truck is rounding the bend and crankin it open for the near stretch when..... scrreeeeeeech..BOOOM. I watch the headlights through the trees as they whip around and stop, facing back the way they came, right next to the trail that I'm about to walk down. By the time I reach the treeline I can hear their voices... at first there's a lot of "holy shit, everybody ok?", followed by "who put the tree in the middle of a racetrack? haha". I stop just off the track, in the trees, and just out of sight in the dark. From there I watch the gong show. "Hey man, yer truck's old, this just adds character." "The door won't open and the window won't go up, Duke's of Hazard style baby." I had briefly considered going down there to give them a hand, but quickly reconsidered. They had more than enough manpower available, and nothing kills a drunken teenage buzz like some old dude stepping outta the trees to offer his opinion. Eventualy, with the help of the other vehicle and a tow rope, they got the truck dislodged from the tree. Gave it a push to get it started again, and slowly cruised back around the track. I headed back up to the house, and by the time I got there they had decided to make another couple laps just for good measure. I love Monday nights.
-- I went back to the scene the next day and took the pictures shown below... CSI style :) --