Lug Nuts, Fried Bologna, And The Loudest Thrill In Sports

When I Took My Family To Their First Nascar Race, I Decided To Do It Right—in An Rv Parked In The Infield. And When Someone Invited Me Onto A Decrepit School Bus For A Jell-O Shot, I Did That Right, Too.

- Ezra Dyer

BECAUSE I’VE ONLY ever been at Nascar races to write stories—and Nascar is what you call media-friendly—I’ve never had a true Nascar experience. An experience that was not meticulously scrubbed of inconvenience. So I had questions: How do you rent an RV? Where do you park it? What kind of tickets do you buy so you can see cool stuff but not blow your budget for fried bologna sandwiches? Is there stuff to eat besides fried bologna sandwiches?

My first call is to a woman named Cathy, who works in sales for Charlotte Motor Speedway. I’m going to the fall Roval 400 race, which will use the track’s new infield road course to throw a few right turns into the Nascar formula. This isn’t some kind of automated Ticketmaster deal— Cathy is selling me tickets, but she’s also advising me on where I should be and what I should do. Infield, yes. Along the fence, yes. Pit access with free admission to the Sammy Hagar concert Saturday night? Hell yes. And buy in advance, yes, because the price goes up in the weeks before the race. “One important thing to remember,” she says before we hang up, “is to make sure your RV isn’t taller than thirteen and a half feet. That’s the height of the tunnel leading into the infield. Taller than that and you’ll be parking outside.”

Duly noted. Also noted is that the space I’ve booked is rather minimalist, in that it’s apparently a chalk outline on a plot of grass. Which means that I’ll need an RV with a generator, because there’s no power (or water or sewer) hookup. My searches on Outdoorsy.com, an RV rental site, narrow considerably. Especially once I factor in my destination. Many owners have specific prohibitions against going to Nascar races. Huh. I wonder why?