And then after we got in the joint Sunday ... Burk and I were on the rent-a-cart and approaching the staging lanes behind the starting line. Somewhere closer to the Top Eliminator Club big-top than the fence from the road that led to Gate 3A, there was a ramp set up for (I guess) some X Games-style skateboarder. We started to motor around it, when another junkyard pooch came out from behind the woodwork, barking, "Go Back, you can't come here, go back, you can't come here." Jeff explained we had done it for the past two days. "Well that was two days ago, it's different now. Bark! Bark! Bark" A final howl to the sun and we let it go and traveled the extra two miles to get to the IRP oval trailer area. I remember this arf-ing guys had long hair. A member of the Grateful Dead with a badge and an attitude. Official DRO pronouncement: Long hair, in and of itself, has nothing to do with hipness. Is this a weird ass country or what?

After eight hours of heat, so-so racing and too much ground to cover, Burk and I decided to get the cart and head back to Africa and get our rent-a-car. Too late. The gate was locked and had a sign that read "No Exit." Jean Paul Sartre' Redux. The magnums are in the glove compartment. We're going to adopt the methodology of home state boy, John Dillinger. Towers open fire. Every man for himself.

Ron Capps celebrated his third Big Bud Shootout win with a little Bud spraying in the winner's circle.

Tony Schumacher and tuner Dan Olsen won the one race that can turn a complete season around by dropping points leader Larry Dixon in the final when Dixon's digger smoked the tires just pas the tree.