The email that started it all

Here it is. My review from the annual Mud Bogs near my home town in WI.

We're in a field, approximately as secluded as the site for the Minnesota Renaissance Festival. There are two 100 yard 'lanes' of dirt being disked by a tractor (like a big garden tiller). Once disked, these two lanes are watered down to make mud (about a foot of it). Modified pickup trucks, Broncos, and even some cars are raced along these mud lanes. The local fire department is on site (to wash off the cars - I am not making this up! They would probably also attempt to put out a burning car, but mainly their purpose is cosmetic) and there is also a small fleet of EMT's in case someone chokes on a plug of Skoal. There are of course: country music and porta-potties. I literally expected Yosemite Sam to start firing his revolvers into the air to kick the whole thing off, but instead we all stood while the national anthem was played over the loudspeakers. Thankfully I did not see any cowboy hats. But there were plenty of pickup trucks, 4-wheelers, and baseball caps advertising local bars. They even had the Red/Yellow/Green light to start them off, and there was a woman calling the races over a loudspeaker. Some of the trucks had mud paddle tires (purpose: toss more mud at the crowd), and some of them were running on nitrous (purpose: ensure all accidents are fatal) (OK, it IS cool to see a truck skipping over mud at 50 - 60 MPH). One of the drivers had no arms, but he was driving his truck with his one prosthetic arm (I am NOT kidding!! He was steering with a suicide (Brodie) knob). And to end a final comedic ending, I managed to become a genuine redneck by actually sunburning my neck, foehead, and even the PART IN MY HAIR!!