Some of my favorite memories as a kid, and even as an adult have been sitting in the infield at the Terre Haute action track for the World of Outlaws. We'd get as close to center of turn one as we could get, and as close to the track as we could get. Those cars just screamed down that front stretch and came through the corner pointed straight at us at the apex. We were down low, kinda looking up a bit, and never got hit with a bit of dirt. Even better after I was old enough to drink. Great times. Beer, grille grub, and loud ass racecars ripping huge donuts around you
Then later, on in life was hitting Lincoln Park. It's where all the local boys play. Wingless Outlaw cars, screaming around a tiny 1/4 mile oval. Those that went off turn one dissppeared while rolling down a hill
So much action at that track. Holy cow. Stock car races looked like demolition derbies sometimes. I actually pitted for a guy that was running his Outlaw sprint. Changed tires, offsets, etc. He was one of our engineers at an aerospace shop I was at. Around 800hp, open long tubes. He pulled it into the shop one day after a bump start up the road. He stopped right next to me and gave the throttle two quip blips to about 6000rpm. I was about deaf for a good bit afterwards.