Lawrenceburg Speedway

So first off, I’m not an adventurous person. My idea of a fun Saturday night is staying in and watching a marathon of Grey Anatomy on Netflix in my pjs while eating Outback To-​Go. Second off, I don’t like Nascar. I have to agree with Ben N. that it’s mind-​numbing. But when my office got free press box seats to see a race I decided to pull myself out of my cozy Saturday routine and be a little venturesome. I ended up staying in the press box most of the night (I have contacts so the idea of getting dirt in my eyes didn’t seem appealing) eating pizza, drinking beer and watching the, surprisingly entertaining, race. Just so you know, the bathrooms are clean, they have decent concessions and I didn’t have any issues with parking. Basically, I recommend it for a good olé American night out.

Motor sports?! Seriously? I don’t know jack about it, and generally couldn’t care less. And glitzy modern-​day NASCAR is just about one of the most mind-​numbing and dispiriting things that I can think of.
But I revere and enjoy authentic Americana of just about any sort, and Lawrenceburg Speedway provides exactly that: a decades-​old dirt racing track that probably hasn’t changed all that much over the years and evokes earlier, simpler times, unsullied by corporate sterility and gloss and hype. This is the motor-​sports version of a unique, old-​model minor-​league baseball park.
We went for the Speedway’s second annual «Night of Destruction»: school bus races, a lawn mower derby, emergency-​vehicles races, a «hornets» race (featuring smaller, beat-​up American cars like Saturns and Ford Focuses), a «roll over» contest (drivers speed their cars – Ford Festivas? – toward a small ramp, which they use to try to roll the cars over as many times as possible), and a demolition derby. In between these events, a late-​model racer tore around the dirt track. (The rest of the April-​to-​October Speedway schedule features straightforward car racing of various sorts.)
There actually wasn’t very much «destruction.» One of the school busses tried to side-​swipe its way through the herd and lost a tire. The roll-​over cars sustained a few new dents. There were only five lawn mowers in that contest. (And we missed the demo derby, which came last and quite late, but we heard it was kind of a dud.) The school bus races were the most badass of these. But I suspect these «Nights of Destruction» will bet getter in future years.
At a mere $ 10, this kind of entertainment value is hard to beat. Even if none of it was particularly thrilling, pretty much all of it brought smiles to our faces for several hours running. And the PA announcer, Chad Cunningham, and the track announcer, whose name I forget, had a good chemistry and were smooth, entertaining, and informative. The metal bleachers in the grandstand have chairbacks and most seats offer good views of all the action on the track.
Concessions, including beer, are quite a bit cheaper than at professional sports and big-​ticket concert events. Think $ 3 for burgers and brats and $ 2.50 for cans of Bud.
And yes, you’ll see lots of jorts, goatees, tattoos, and black t-​shirts with the sleeves cut off (and even cut-​off denim shirts fashioned into Ernest P. Worrell-​style vests). That might scarify some city slickers. But don’t worry: these folks won’t bite. In fact, despite the presence of cheap beer and the availability of several hours in which to chug it, the level of idiotic drunken loutishness was far lower than at the average MLB or NFL game. On this night at least, it was more of a family atmosphere than anything else.
Summary: Hell yes. I think we’re going to have to go back.