Last Dance at TWS

It didn’t hit me until I was in the car with my green student, and was talking about what he should do when he came back next time. Of course, he would not be coming back, ever, since TWS is closing.

Pretty sure I was able to keep the shake out of my voice, and the shades kept anyone from seeing my eyes get red. The wind from the passenger window dried the water leaking from my face. Have not had that sort of fluid leak at TWS before.

For those of you following the saga, TWS is an old racetrack near College Station, Texas. It was built in 1968, and has hosted some pretty big names over the years. It was never picked up as a NASCAR track for various reasons, but it is the only superspeedway in the country available to us amateur types. I learned to drive there. So did Sheri. So did many of my friends.

If it’s one thing racers hate it’s being out of control. That awful powerless feeling gets you. The track is going to be turned into houses and possibly an elementary school. I’m sure it will make the current owners lots of money, though more in the long term. And there’s not a fucking thing we can do about it. The chance passed us by years ago, though that’s another story.

I’ve seen lots of stuff there. Hordes of Miata going green sound like a swarm of angry hornets as they come down the front straight. The howl of a McLaren at full song setting a track record. The hoots from a drunk redneck as he takes a pass in his F-150 along the old oval in the middle of the night, illuminated only by woefully inadequate headlights. He was never seen again. I’ve been off track in every corner there. I know them all, and where to put my wheels so nothing comes to harm. I’ll stop now before it becomes a real Roy Batty moment.

But of all the things I’ve seen there, it was the community that impressed me the most. This was a track which supported amateur racing. And we supported one another. There was one incident of theft I’m aware of from the track in ten years of running there. You never locked a car or truck. Tools were on loan for the asking. The couple running the concession stand have been doing it since 1968. Once you passed through the tunnel, things changed for the better, every time.

The last weekend was great though. I ended it like I started back in 2005, in a Corvette on street tires. Sheri drove Wasp, her 2000 FRC on sticky Hoosier R7s. It was sunny with a light breeze all weekend. Could not have been much better. Never got really hot. The last session on Sunday, which is generally pretty thin was packed. No one wanted to leave. Sheri and I went on track in the same session, working on lead/follow for another chance at a better lap time that will never come.

It’s important to be present at the end of things, as well as at the beginning, but lots of times, the endings suck so much harder.

We were lucky to have the track close to us for the last ten years. It taught me a great deal. I will miss running there.