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At the U.S. Nationals, the vast majority of race cars fall within these infernal indexed ranks. These cars take talent and skill to build and drive, but they do not provide a natural habitat for someone who is into blowers, injectors, and nitro. Quite the contrary, in fact. I have a solution for those fans who, at some point during one of these seemingly endless sessions feels a combination of being broken, whipped, and castrated. Leave. Most all of the seats at Indianapolis Raceway Park are reserved, so you can vamoose for an hour or two and come back for the stuff you really wanted to see. National DRAGSTER publishes a schedule of qualifying and eliminations for every NHRA race, so whadya worried about? For me, food and drink, is one of the better ways to fight off crushing boredom, mugginess, heat, and overall weather-related punch-drunkenness. In fact for me, sustenance plays a big role in how I begin each and every day. For example, when I have breakfast, I go in face first. I want the restaurant help to know that they’re dealing with an overindulged white cannonball, who is to be treated as an excessive personality ... at the very least. I put on the feed bag as if it were "The Last Supper (Breakfast, actually.)" Three Bloody Marys for a warm-up, a grapefruit, Rangoon crepes, a half-pound of sausage, a Spanish Omelette or Eggs Benedict, a pint of two-percent milk (gotta think of your health.), a chopped lemon for random accenting, a slice of Key Lime pie, sometimes a heart of palm salad and a Cadillac Margarita, and—always a great closer—a large shot of Fonseca Port 1977 and a blown glass pipeful of red Lebanese hash oil for functional distortion.. Then I calmly put on my clothes, pay the bill, and leave the restaurant. It’s Showtime!!! If that’s your idea of on-the-road hot-wiring, then may I offer you emergency rations in a time of need for mid-afternoon entertainment when things go "urp" at IRP. Here are three restaurant/bar/lounges within two miles of the track, that will serve as excellent drag racing tabasco. Firemen’s Raceway Pub -- Good points about the pride of Clermont: TV (pre-season football, women’s bodybuilding), pool, and plenty of butt space at the bar. The joint is so antique, it’s like getting drunk at a Cracker Barrel, but ... uh .. datsda charm of ‘da joint. A nice respite from break-out racing and consequential drag race burnout. Bad points: Lotsa stiff-brimmed cops in the area after the races, so watchyerass. Ah, Jack Webb, what thou hath wrought. -CM Rick’s Cafe Boatyard -- Almost
sounds like the joint in the 1945 classic film Rick’s is located at 4050 Dandy Trail on the Eagle Creek reservoir. Phone is (317) 290-9300. If you’re leaving the track, get on Crawfordsville Road going toward the ultra big Brownsville Road and 16th Street intersection (Union Jack’s, the Waterfront Parkway). You go about a mile or two, and then hang a left on Dandy Trail and go about a mile at the most. Unless you’re driving by Braille, you can’t miss it. The good points: redwood decking outdoors, situated above the water of the reservoir, beautiful panoramic view of sailboats and terminal motorboating drunks. Two fully-appointed bars, one indoors and one outdoors (on said decking.) Ambiance-wise, it’s one of the nice stops in India-No-Place. It doesn’t take a bank draft to buy a beer or a mixed drink. The bad points: Like the rest of Indiana, chefs need to be airlifted to this poverty-stricken void. Ordering seafood or any ethnic dish, short of nachos, is akin to putting a cocked Colt Commander to your temple. The meats are okay. -CM
The look on the faces of the bartenders and waitresses at the three establishments afore mentioned as you staggered out the door leads you to believe that it would be in your best interest not to return until they have had a year or so to get over your visit or new owners with a better sense of humor are in place. Well, Bunky, there is a place for you. Bolt in that spare liver you got at the Betty Ford clinic and visit Russ's. It is located on the same side of the street as the Firehouse but about a beer further down Brownstown Road and is Clermont's version of Cheers, except no one knows your name. Russ's is an indoor-outdoor joint that serves up equally generous portions of food, adult beverages, and (shudder) Karaoke. On big race weekends Russ puts up a big tent out front and opens up the walkup bar window. If you have to get away from the Karaoke the inside bar has plenty of seats and big screen T.V.'s. The drinks are poured by eye and can be of the lethal variety, which is a blessing if the Karaoke participant is doing the 16 minute version of IN-A-GADDA-DA-VIDA! The real bonus at Russ's is the food. I can highly recommend the 10 ounce sirloin (cooked by Russ himself) which with a drink and salad will set you back about a sawbuck as well as the local favorite the fried or broiled Pork Tenderloin sandwich. Russ's would be the ideal spot to go after the race, watch the police herd the traffic and quietly anesthetize yourself while waiting for the fans and cops to go home. -JB
photos by Jeff Burk |
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Copyright 1999-2001, Drag Racing Online and Racing Net Source |
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It’s
fairly safe to say that there are precious few fans who stay seated
through an entire NHRA or IHRA national event. Relieving yourself aside,
it’s the rare fan indeed who can tolerate 220 Super Comp dragsters,
210 Super Gassers, and 180 Stock Eliminator cars, one right after the
other. These are generally not the cars the majority of fans paid to
see. That onus falls to the nitro cars, the pro and alcohol ranks. Sorry,
but that’s the way the mop flops.
This two-story wood framer was built three weeks after
Abe Lincoln bit the husk. No need to put an address on this site of
the "Battling" Nelson/Joe Gans World Lightweight Championship
fight of 1905; it’s on Crawfordsville Road on the way to Rick’s.
Big sign and the whole five-and-a-half yards.
"Casablanca."
Not even close, chummo, but ... when your opponent’s got four aces
and you’re ten high, kicking over the table’s usually the
best medicine. In other words, Indianapolis cuisine is not likely to
challenge the great chefs of Paris, or Morocco for that matter. 
Linda’s
-- No good points or bad points: This is a cave, a dive, a toilet, a
classic, I-came-here-to-get-drunk-eat-peanuts-and-go-to-the- bathroom-type
of joint. It’s real dark inside with a cool pervading, dank humidity
not unlike that of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at California’s Disneyland.
Linda’s, too, is on Crawfordsville Road. If you gotta go somewhere
to relax, but only have a limited time to do it, stop by and see the
Lindster. Right near the Firemen’s Raceway Pub. The service is
usually quicker here.So there it is. Put some foam in your stomach and
take a load off your feet. Get ready for Top Fuel, Funny Car, and Pro
Stock. -CM 
Russ’s
-- OK, you've completed the Chris Martin iron throat marathon. You've
set fire to your intestines at the Firehouse, lounged with the lizards
at Linda's, and basked by the dock of the bay at Rick's Boatyard. You've
completely depleted your supply of industrial strength antacids and
over the counter painkillers but there is one more day at the U.S. Nationals
and you still need food and drink sometime during your last day at the
race.