One of my friends and I have an annual tradition of hitting up the Rockton Fair, particularly the derby, as he runs in the derby every year in my community's fair (Binbrook Fair, wink, wink, hint, hint, come on out to it next year). We go with the hope that whoever smoked him in the Binbrook derby gets his come-uppance in Rockton. This year, we decided to go out a few hours earlier so we could wander through the buildings, and perhaps swipe an idea or two for Binbrook's fair next year. After we'd parked, we went to the gate to pay our entry fee, and I'd noticed that there were a couple of army trucks on the outskirts of the parking lot. Strange, perhaps, though very exciting, until we paid our dues, entered the grounds, and found the Army's interactive display. An information board giving details about howitzers caught my attention when the corporal running the show asked me if I wanted to try on some gear.
Clearly, I was against the idea, given my excited expression. Of course I wanted to throw on some gear! According to the friend I was with, for people who know me, my appreciation and the extent of my excitement was to be expected. For those who don't, such an attitude could be poercieved as strange. What can I say? I spent seven years as an air cadet, so when the military does something awesome, I start to reminice.
Anyways, the corporal who was running the show decided to load me up. The gear was heavy, but not quite as weighted-down as it was supposed to be. However, I think I still wore it well regardless. What do you think?
We were also allowed to explore their truck, and of course, I pounced upon the opportunity.
When I was finished playing around with the awesome gear, we wandered around the fair a bit more. Naturally, a country fair isn't complete without a tractor display. My Uncle Ivan, who has since passed on, used to have a love of Fords. He was known to have stated that he'd rather push a Ford than drive a Chevy. From what I've been told, he never owned a Ford tractor, but I still couldn't help but think of him when I saw one.
When we were finished with the tractors, we went and found our seats for the derby. After the dog display, you know, the one where a bunch of dogs run through an obstacle course, there was a brief hitching-horse display, and then it was time. The pre-derby show, which always builds up excitement, began. All of the cars that were competing for the best decorated title lined up, waiting for those of us in the crowd to determine the winner. The one I was cheering for didn't win the competition, but it won in my books. Then again, if you're a country mouse too, you would completely understand why.
Also the fact that our farm was home to cattle once upon a time made me love this car a little bit more, even if it was painted after the wrong breed of bovine. Tragically, it didn't fair too well in the derby.
Finally, the derby began, starting with the ladies' straight stock. One of my sister's friends was in that particular heat.
Her car looked this way when she started, and ended in similar condition as her car decided to quit on her within a few minutes. Better luck next year.
Overall, the derby was filled with excitement. One car even managed to back itself up onto the one behind it. We all screamed with excitement when that car managed to get itself back down, and put in another hit before its time was up. The pit was loaded with car parts, crunched metal, and plenty of ruts from where the derby cars spun in their spot. Some people may find this strange. Others, such as my friend and I, consider this annual ritual to be a thing of beauty.
Derby night might not be for everyone, but when you're country born and bred, it's your idea of a good time on a Friday night. It was also a fantastic way to start the Thanksgiving weekend. We look forward to doing it all again next year.
Army get-up photos compliments of my friend Aaron.
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