Say Anything Blog

This past weekend I tagged along with my kids who went to Bemidji, MN to visit cousins and to take in the Bemidji Winter Festivities.  On Friday night when we arrived in Bemidji the temperature was two degrees above zero.

Saturday morning the kids braved the cold and went to the lake shore to watch the polar dive.  Twenty-four brave (or stupid) persons paid $50.00 each for the opportunity to jump into the lake through a hole in the ice.  But not to worry because there were divers in the water and emergency medical personnel in case of an emergency.  After the Polar Dive, they watched ice bowling, hockey and other games going on upon the frozen lake.  It doesn’t take much to entertain a Mid-Westerner.  Everybody was having a great time.

Sunday was the main event.  My nephews had arranged for my son-in-law to drive a stock car, in a race, on the ice.  That’s right…. On the Ice.  My niece made ham sandwiches and we set out on our adventure.  After crossing the frozen lake, dodging fish houses, we arrived at the “race track.” Two snow plows were moving snow off the ice while drives revved their engines, raring to go.  Soon the plows were finished and the “hot laps” began.  I soon figured out that “hot laps” are simply practice laps.

We parked next to a race car that had a huge sign on it saying, “Fat Chicks Wanted.” A few minutes later a car with a couple and several kids drove up.  The family got out; the driver slapped a number on the car and then joined the other racers.

What fun.  But we got a little chilly sitting in the car on the ice so my brother-in-law went to get us coffee.  When he got back he said, “If you guys want a burger or a hot dog you’d better order now.  The line at the grill is really long.” We opted for ham sandwiches and chips.

Just as the first race was about to begin, a car pulling a stock car on a trailer pulled up beside us.  On the side of the car was a sign reading, “Deke’s pumping.  Your poop is our soup.” Lucky enough he made it into the race.

By now a large crowd had gathered on the lake and the races began.  Several drives loaded up women and kids and pulled into line for the first heat.  I noticed that none of the drivers or passengers had helmets or any protective gear.  When I questioned this, I was informed, “Naw.  No one ever gets hurt racin’ on the ice.”

For a little while I thought I might be at a NASCAR race.  Men were talking engines and swapping engines and what equipment is allowed, what should not be allowed and why can’t this equipment be used. 

My son-in-law drove in the first race.  With my son and my grandson in the back seat.  Horrors.  I sat there praying and saying to myself, “Slow down.  Don’t hurt my bunny.” Nevertheless, he did very well and came in fourth place which qualified him for a front row position in the feature race.  More Horrors!!!  But several laps into the race, he spun out and was finished.

When the races were done the guy who dropped off his family, picked them up again, took the number off the car and drove off.

I can’t believe I watched the whole thing.  But I did and I had a wonderful time.  Does that make me a Red Neck?