NSLA - October 18, 1998
Fire on the Mountain
Street Luge Championship
The second annual Fire on the Mountain
Street Luge Championship was held in Ansted, West Virginia. A field of 33 pilots
showed up to try their skills on the most technically challenging course in our
series. It seemed that all were up to the task however and made an immediate assault
on the mountain to see how far they could push it. It's a good thing we had catch
fences. It seemed everyone was REALLY pushing it. The fastest time of the day
was 73 mph (clocked by the local LEO), a full ten mph over last year's speed.
Just imagine the road disappearing in front of you (because it drops so quickly)
and speeding over that edge at 70+, going airborne! Sick. And as Darren said "the
bar has been raised".
As always we had a wonderful warm welcome from the people of Ansted who turned
out to cheer on their favorite pilot (all of them I think). An estimated 2,500
spectators came out to enjoy the warm Sunday afternoon and take in the race, food
and fun. Not enough can be said of the friendly folks in West Virginia without
filling the page with countless paragraphs so we'll list a few discriptive adjectives;
appreciative, approachable, congenial, familiar, good-natured, gracious, heartwarming,
hospitable, kind.
A hearty thanks to Mayor Skaggs for all his hard work in helping us make this
a success. And to all the city workers and volunteer fire fighters who did such
a great job setting up and maintaining the course for us. Also thanks to Cathy
Swartz, Paul Corbett, Chris, and all who are not named who helped us make it happen.
As you look over the results of the races ponder the story below as told by Bama:
Waldo calls me up and says "Dude..I fell asleep and missed
my flight, like it's just now leaving." I'm packed and ready to hit the road
from Louisville to meet him in Charleston at the airport at 6:30 to take him into
Ansted. This sucks. Waldo books another flight only to find out it can only take
him as far as Huntington WV and arrives at damn near midnite. This means after
travelling nearly six hours to Ansted to drop off our other passenger in time
to meet his reservation, the guy I'm riding with would have to flip around, drive
an additional 2 1/2 hours to meet the flight, play Where's Waldo at the airport,
drive an additional 2 1/2 hours back to Ansted and try to get some rest before
the race sign-in. This didn't work out so we tried to get Waldo a rental car.
Waldo's license is expired so that didn't fly either. Waldo says "Dude...I'll
be there."
It's now 6:10am at the bed and breakfast and we get this phone call. "HEY
BRO!! I'm like 9 miles down the road at this gas station and there's no traffic
to bum a ride with." I hop in the van and go find Waldo sitting in this teeny
little town in the middle of nowhere WV with his gear, luge and a chunk of cardboard
with ANSTED scrawled on it in magic marker. Waldo has hitchhiked the whole damn
way! On the way back to Ansted, Waldo hops out the van and hits some of turns
on hwy60 for the hell of it and we run into Beagle on the road. We make it to
the race and after all the shit he went through to get here...hungover, no sleep,
lousy flights, busted truck hanger (airport damage), no food, no sleep, all night
hitch hiking...WINS THE DAMN RACE!!!! Way ta Go Waldo!!!!
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