The simple drag strip was marked out by 4 beacons (start line – finish line), with an umpires tower and only a thin wooden fence that separated the crowd from... sudden death!!! Well, maybe a very slow death – as it turns out sand is a pretty hard surface to race on and more often that not, the vehicles would sink into the wet stuff and helpers, photographers and drivers would need to jump up to help push bikes across the start line. My one piece of advice for drag racing – it’s all about the start, if you can beat the other guy in the first 50 yards, you’re golden.
My hat goes off to the lady with the starting flag (one of the most important roles in a drag race), who leapt and turned and thrust the race flag to the ground with every starting pistol, time and time again. Luckily it seemed she was kept in good spirits with an occasional cocktail from the Umpires tower.
It was a great race, rare racing machines and a very friendly crowd – the races were forced to stop each day by the rising tide, which was continually reducing the width of the race track over the course of the day. As the sun-set over the race track it was a good chance to meet the drivers, drink ice-cold American beer and dance around the bonfire.