At the end of a race season my dad writes a poem for us as a team, thanking those who are most important to us, and he does it in the meter of ” ‘Twas the night before Christmas.” This
Do You See What I See?
My guess is that even if you know what this is, you don’t see what I see. You see shiny silver shapes? Â You see holes? You see water drops? Maybe you know the bottom of a valve when you
My dad has often said that racing is mostly about good friends and good food with a little bit of driving in between. This weekend the cars were temperamental with problems we’re not even sure how to fix. Of 5