Last weekend, I was in New Jersey (which will henceforth be known as the smelliest, most frustrating place to drive in the world). I competed in a National Championship Tour event, which is basically a precursor to the National Championships in Lincoln, Nebraska in September.
There’s a long, long, LONG list of things I dislike about this place. Seriously, it smells. I have been woken up out of a sound sleep and asked, “What! Is! That! Smell!” and been told we were in Jersey. The Jersey Shore, the people that go there, and the show that became of it. If you want to drive across the street, you have to drive 5 miles out of the way, in the opposite direction, and then you have to make a cloverleaf-u-turn. And nothing is labeled well, so you might end up in NYC, or somewhere unthinkable. Like Pennsylvania. The idea that you can’t pump your own gas, and the inefficiencies waiting for Joe Schmoe, the gas station attendant , to be done with whatever it is he’s doing. (The price of gas down there is nice, though.)
There is, however, one thing I do like about Jersey, and it’s the racing site down there. You get spectacular views of Manhattan, amazing pavement in a lot that allows course variation and speed, intense competition with some of the nicest people running a SCCA region, and you get sunsets like this one: